Read Gym Boys Online

Authors: Shane Allison

Tags: #Gym Boys

Gym Boys

 

GYM BOYS

 

GYM BOYS

GAY EROTIC STORIES

 

 

 

E
DITED
BY

S
HANE
A
LLISON

Copyright © 2016 by Shane Allison.

All rights reserved. Except for brief passages quoted in newspaper, magazine, radio, television or online reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Publisher.

Published in the United States by Cleis Press, an imprint of Start Midnight, LLC, 101 Hudson Street, 37th Floor, Suite 3705, Jersey City, NJ 07302.

Printed in the United States.

Cover design: Scott Idleman/Blink

Cover photograph: iStockphoto

Text design: Frank Wiedemann

First Edition.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Trade paper ISBN: 978-1-62778-124-4

E-book ISBN: 978-1-62778-179-4

“Bagged,” by Jake Rich, previously appeared in
Ultimate Gay Erotica 2009
, edited by Jesse Grant (Alyson Books).

Contents

Introduction

One More

The Ropes

Means to an End

Helping Rufus

Heart On

Jockstraps

Steel Dreams

The Artistry of Steam

Birthday Workout

Gym Friends

Montgomery Gymnos

Mr. Sampson's Muscle Palace

Pumping Ivan

Working Out the Kinks

Safari

Bagged

About the Authors

About the Editor

INTRODUCTION

O
h my god, there he was on the treadmill, shirtless, glistening with sweat that trickled down a muscled torso. I thought of how I had a long way to go before I looked like that: drop-dead gorgeous. I was fed up with being overweight, and got the recommendation from my physician that I should drop a minimum of fifty pounds. I finally grew the balls to join a gym. I grew weary of only walking past the window of Gold's, watching everyone but me change their lives. I didn't just want to shed the pounds for reasons of health, but also so I would no longer seem invisible to the hotties that pranced around the local gay clubs. Damn, this guy was handsome. I knew I wouldn't be able to snag a man like him on my best day.

The first day I laid eyes on him I was about to put off my workout for the umpteenth time when I saw him saunter into the gym. He cut me the cutest smile when he walked past me. This guy was the embodiment of hot. If you looked up
gorgeous
in the dictionary, you would probably find his pretty face. This beauty was all the encouragement I needed to take that chance. I went in, filled out forms, signed my John Hand job, I mean, Hancock, on the dotted line, paid my sixteen-dollar membership and followed that muscle-lust stud into the workout area of the gym. I was hypnotized by his stunning good looks. Where in the hell had this guy been all my life? Luckily, the treadmill next to him was vacant. To see his muscles flexing under sinewy skin was enough to make my dick hard. I had never been on a treadmill, and started to fumble around with the contraption, not having the slightest idea what I was doing, yet it provided the perfect excuse to ask for this bohunk's assistance. When I asked him for help, he looked annoyed, breathing heavy, dripping with sweat. “Sorry to bother you, but do you know how to operate this?”

He stopped his own machine to step over to assist me. “How fast do you want to go?”

As fast or as slow as you want, baby
, I thought. “Do you want to walk or run?” I would have preferred to walk, but I didn't want the object of my affection to think that I was a lightweight, so I decided to run it out. I told him that a good jog to get the blood flowing and the heart pumping would be good enough. He instructed me on how to use the buttons and what they were used for, informing me that I could use this and that button to quicken or slow down my speed. When I asked him how often he frequented the gym in some sad attempt to break the ice, I felt like the biggest loser. As soon as that cornball of a question slipped out of my mouth, I wanted to reel it back in.

“About six days a week.” He asked me if it was my first time at Gold's.

“Is it that obvious?”

He smiled all pretty. “I've seen you standing outside a few times, looking through the window.”

I was so embarrassed. “You must have thought I was some kind of pervert or something.”

“Not at all. I was like you once: struggling to take that first step. I'm glad that you made it in.”

I switched on the machine and began to jog at a steady pace. It wasn't long before I started to breathe heavy, but I doubt that it had anything to do with any treadmill. I'm the type who likes to see instant results the moment after I'm done working out, wanting the weight to melt off. “I'm Shane by the way,” I told him.

“Steve.” What a beautiful name for a beautiful man. I wanted to tattoo it on my ass.
Owned and operated by Steve
. “So do you have a goal weight that you would like to meet?”

“I'm trying to lose about fifty pounds.”

“That sounds like a good, healthy size for your height. I think you would look amazing.” Oh my god, had he just said I would look amazing?

“Thank you, I hope so.”

“As long as you keep working hard and being persistent, you shouldn't have a problem meeting your goal.” Steve's words of encouragement were exactly what I needed to hear in order to keep going, considering I felt like I was close to fainting from exhaustion. I adjusted the speed to slow things down.

Steve and I spent a good hour and a half working out and talking, then we hit the showers. I wasn't sure how comfortable I would be showering with another man, but I had to see this guy in the buff. His dick looked to be about eight inches while his ass was bubbled and firm. I would have given anything to cop a feel, to wrap my lips around his horse-hung dick. I would glance down at it as I soaped up. I was scared shitless he might have caught me staring, but he never did. My dick hardened to the sight of Steve's well-endowed appendage. I wish I could say that we got up to something, but Steve showered, got out and dried off the ass I wanted to smother my face in, and left. “I guess I will see you around,” he said.

Now that I had taken that plunge, I made working out a six-day-a-week regiment, all so I could run into Hot Steve. I not only met my goal weight, but I lost twenty more pounds and was quickly burning fat and gaining muscle. After about four weeks I started to see a difference. No one would ever call me Fat Albert again. I could finally see my dick without having to bend over, thanks partly to Steve. The losing weight part, I mean. He and I not only became friends, but loyal fuck buddies, so all of the fantasies and rock-hard dreams I had about him had finally come true.

The sixteen gym-sational stories I have assembled here will, taunt, tease and titillate thanks to some of my favorite gay erotica veterans like Bob Vickery, Gregory L. Norris, Rob Rosen, Jay Starre, Logan Zachary, Landon Dixon, Jeff Mann, R. W. Clinger and Michael Bracken, as well as the rising stars of gay erotica: Brent Archer, Fox Lee, Katya Harris, Oleander Plume, Sasha Payne and Jake Rich. I hope you enjoy reading these stories over and over as much as I have.

Shane Allison

Tallahassee, Florida

ONE MORE
Jay Starre

O
ne More was the name of Raphael's personal training business and when his new young client had asked about it, he explained.

“What use is a trainer if he isn't asking for one more?”

Raphael winked and slapped Tommy lightly on the butt as they made their way into the training area late that Sunday night. The redhead flinched, not expecting the friendly slap. It was hardly unwelcome though. Raphael was a dusky-skinned Brazilian immigrant with raven-black hair and big brown eyes; handsome as hell and with a body to die for. Tommy hired him the moment they met, not only in the hopes of learning more about training but also for the chance to spend some time with the gorgeous trainer.

“One more, I'm up for that,” he replied enthusiastically, hardly imagining Raphael's training method would go way beyond what the twenty-two-year-old could possibly have expected. Or hoped for!

On Sunday evenings the Laguna Beach Gym closed early at 9:00 p.m. and they had the place to themselves. Raphael had arranged it with Bradley, the desk attendant who seemed to be his buddy. Tommy appreciated it, considering he was busy on the beach working long hours this time of year as a lifeguard.

Raphael was a smooth talker with impeccable English and was all smiles as he began to put the redhead through his paces. “That's it, Tommy. Lean back on your heels and push upward with your entire lower body, not just your thighs. You want to engage those glutes, don't you?”

The squats had him straining and sweating, which served the purpose of warming him up adequately. He would need to be warmed up for what followed, although he didn't yet know it.

“Now for some pull-ups. I'm going to wrap your wrists and attach the straps to the chin-up bar. That way you can dangle from the bar and stretch your spine after each set. I warn you though; this is going to be brutal. I expect you to go all out. Are you ready for that?”

Tommy nodded vigorously. His cock had risen up hard and twitching the moment Raphael had slapped his ass, and was still tenting his baggy green workout shorts. He was pretty sure the trainer had noticed it, although he had politely made no mention of it.

The short redhead stood on a crate to reach the bar while the taller Brazilian put the wrist straps on and then attached them to the bar with the Velcro strips. Tommy was ordered to attempt his first set of ten.

“Good job, Tommy. You've already got a great back and awesome shoulders but this exercise in particular will help put on some more mass. That's it, now one more,” he said with a laugh and a second light slap on the ass.

Tommy had imagined himself totally spent, but that slap galvanized him to struggle through one more pull-up. Exhausted after that, he dangled from the wrist straps and tried to catch his breath.

While resting, Tommy gazed into the large wall mirror in front of him. His short red hair was already plastered to his forehead with sweat, and his taut body glistened with a sheen of it. Hours in the sun had bestowed upon him a freckled tan that contrasted with the pale-yellow tank top he wore. His underarms were smooth and pale though, not receiving as much exposure as the rest of his body. He was proud of his compact build but wanted to add some bulk to it, which was why he had hired a personal trainer.

Occupied with contemplating his image, he hadn't noticed Raphael rummaging through his trainer's bag until he came up behind him again. He was rubbing his hands together, apparently working in some hand cream he had taken from his bag.

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