As I reached my early thirties, my metabolism had begun to slow considerably. As a result, for the first time in my life, I needed to watch my diet and exercise. I started jogging on a semi-regular basis after work, which was usually around midnight.

During the winter months, I would join a gym to get some cardio in, since I couldn’t jog outdoors. I usually only exercised on either a treadmill or a Stairmaster. During that time, I quickly found out that I didn’t like a busy gym for several reasons.

The grunts and groans of the powerlifters, accompanied by the clanging and banging of weights, were an annoyance to me. Theoretically, I could have drowned out the noise with headphones, but I had discovered that I jogged at my best with no distractions. I learned to focus on my breathing and keep a constant pace. Music and noise only distracted me from both of those things.

Any women in the gym were usually using the same equipment as me. I was quickly shamed into a position where I felt like I couldn’t even glance in any direction other than straight ahead.

Plus, there was the locker room situation. It seemed like the guys in the worst shape were the ones who paraded around with little or no clothing on. It was even more uncomfortable if I bumped into a guy that I found appealing. I have always had a rather obvious indicator of when something piques my attention. It was like high school all over again.

Around that same time, a small gym opened up in my town, called The Weight Room. It was kind of ridiculous that we had a gym. Our village couldn’t even support a grocery store, but somebody had the bad idea to open up a gym.

I decided to check it out anyway. The times that I had driven by the gym, I had never seen more than one vehicle in the parking lot, which might have held three cars in total. It seemed perfect for my situation, as I was looking for someplace where I could be completely alone.

I had to go there during the morning hours since that was the only time that they had a designated attendant on duty. One of the owners gave me a tour. He was a midlife sort of guy who had become obsessed with weightlifting. He and his workout buddies quickly filled his entire garage with commercial-grade workout equipment. They decided to open a small gym together to help offset the costs of their workout equipment obsession. I would guess that they didn’t even clear enough money to pay the rent.

It was a quick tour, mostly because it was a very small space. Most of the area was designated for weightlifting equipment, particularly free weights, but there were two treadmills and a single Stairmaster machine. That was all that I needed.

The owner seemed happy to let me join the gym on a monthly basis. We quickly agreed on a price, and I fronted the first month’s dues. Then, he gave me a quick tour of the locker area.

The gym was essentially exclusive to men. I think that they would probably have allowed women to exercise there also, but they simply didn’t have the space for a separate locker room.

He led me to the back wall and through a doorway. The locker room was a narrow strip that was no more than eight feet wide and extended the length of the building. As we entered the locker room, there were two toilet stalls to my right, followed by a urinal, a sink, and three shower stalls. The shower stalls seemed to be residential grade, but they were of good quality. I couldn’t help but notice that they had a clear glass door on them. That seemed like an unusual choice for a gym.

The left side was just a solid wall that was adorned with several large mirrors. I thought that the mirrors were odd, but they were probably intended for post-workout posing. At the end of the room was a small bank of lockers and a couple of benches. The lockers looked as if they had been reclaimed from a high school. There were about twenty half-length lockers, four of which had locks on them. I assumed that they belonged to the owners. Everything seemed quite clean and well-maintained. I was confident that the gym would be just what I wanted, even if most people would have scoffed at it.

Eager to try it out, I headed there directly from work that night. Fortunately, my pass-code worked, and I headed inside. I enjoyed my workout in solitude, showered, and arrived home in record time. It seemed like this arrangement was going to work out quite well.

The next several sessions were mostly the same. Then, one day, as I was on the treadmill, a large, jacked-up, four-wheel drive pickup pulled up next to my car. It rocked noticeably as somebody got out. It was a stocky fellow who was wearing shorts and a muscle shirt in the middle of winter.

He entered through the front door and glanced in my direction as he headed into the locker room. Several minutes later, he turned back up and claimed a weight machine behind me. Almost immediately, the room was engulfed with the sounds of his grunts, groans, and the clanging of weights.

I finished my workout soon afterward. As I walked past the guy, he had an obvious erection underneath his spandex shorts. It wasn’t the first time that I had seen these “lifter” guys in such a state. I think that some of those guys enjoy their workouts a bit too much. A bit annoyed by the interruption, I just put my street clothes on and headed home to shower, which was only about two minutes away.

Unhappy that the meathead was interfering with my workout arrangement, I started to adjust my workout time over the next several sessions. Pushing my time back an hour seemed to work, and I was enjoying my exercise time again.

Several days later, I had just finished my workout and headed to the locker room. I had become comfortable simply walking around uncovered or leaving my possessions out since I always had the place to myself. In an effort to speed things along, I simply removed my clothes, placed them on the end of the bench, grabbed a towel, and hopped into the closest shower.

I had nearly finished my shower when I heard the door to the locker room rattle shut. As I looked over, it seemed to be the same guy that I had seen about a week earlier. He was changing into his workout gear, but he was sitting on the bench just in front of my shower. With the clear glass door, it felt like I was putting on some sort of private show for him. I tried to keep my back turned as much as possible, and I extended my shower for quite a while, hoping that he would leave.

Still stalling for time, I turned the water off and grabbed the towel. I toweled off inside of the shower stall, still keeping my front side turned away as much as I could. After waiting an uncomfortable amount of time, I finally gave up on waiting for the dude to leave and stepped out of the shower.

He was sitting on a bench with his phone out. It seemed a bit strange for him to have his phone out for that long in a locker room, but I didn’t get the impression that he had been taking pics of me or anything like that.

As I walked past him to get to my locker, he stood up and extended his hand. I have never been very adept at tying a towel around my waist, so I held it in place with my left hand as I shook his hand with my right. There was a quick exchange of names. His was Scott.

Scott, once again, seemed to be a bit excited, causing me to wonder what he had been doing on his phone. It also made me reconsider whether he was watching me or not. I apologized to him for leaving my clothes out at the end of the bench, because that would generally be frowned upon. He didn’t seem to be bothered by it, though. I couldn’t help but stare at the outline of his erection underneath his spandex shorts. It looked pretty average in thickness and a bit on the short side of average in length. I’m pretty sure that he noticed that I looked down, so I quickly excused myself and scurried back to my locker.

I tried to tuck my towel in as I retrieved my gym bag from the locker, but as I attempted to open my combination lock, it fell to the floor. Left standing there bare-assed, I had to decide whether to hurry and grab the bag from my locker or bend over and pick up the towel. I elected to get my bag out of my locker since my front was facing the locker and wasn’t exposed to Scott. At that point, I could hear a rustling sound behind me. My expectation was that Scott was heading out to the gym and that I would be alone, again.

Little did I know that the rustling I heard was Scott sliding down his shorts and taking a seat on the bench behind me. My anxiety over the dropped towel distracted me just enough to not notice the baby gorilla that was stalking me. If only I had elected to pick up the towel first, I would surely have seen his feet.

Just as I went to turn my head, I felt a set of hands grasp onto my hips. They pulled me backward and lifted me slightly, causing my balance to shift and my legs to kick outward instinctively. Before I could muster any sort of reaction, Scott dropped me down onto his bare lap. I felt his left hand cup my backside and boost me up slightly. By the way that his body shifted, I could tell that he was doing a bit of a “backswing.”

Without notice, he slowly drove his presumably dry cock into my unprepared hole. It literally took the breath from my lungs and was exacerbated by the fact that he had begun squeezing me from behind. With his burly arms wrapped around my torso, I could scarcely move. He immediately started grinding against me slowly and whispered into my ear, “If you are going to parade that ass around in front of me, then ‘Big Daddy’ is going to bust it wide open.”

I thought to myself, “Jeez, dude, you could have just made an offer. Even though over-muscled guys weren’t really my thing, I would have gone for a quick bit of fun.”

He started to bounce me up and down with minimal effort. I felt like some kind of human fleshlight. My body locked up, and I found myself barely able to move or respond. I noticed that he referred to himself as “Big Daddy” several times during the brief encounter. It seemed like Scott was a little self-conscious about his size.

He switched to deeper thrusting for the first time as he rocked me forward and then pulled me back into him, burying every bit of his cock inside of me. Scott toyed with me for several more minutes before emptying his load inside me. He finished with a lot of grunting and growling as he finally relinquished his grip on my hips.

After a bit of hard breathing, he picked me back up and placed me back on my feet. I stumbled on my weak legs and had to brace myself against the lockers. Scott grabbed my towel from the floor and wiped his cock off with it. Then he pulled up his workout shorts and started to head for the door.

“You are my new workout partner, ” he barked. “Be here tomorrow at eleven-thirty.”

He disappeared as I wondered, “What in the hell had just happened?”

I thought to myself that he was a brave fellow attempting anal sex with a completely unprepared partner. Fortunately for both of us, things went well.

I hopped back into the shower to quickly clean up from that little romp. I wondered if I hadn’t inadvertently riled Scott up by keeping my back turned to him. Perhaps he had thought that I was showing off for him or presenting him with an offer. He certainly was a bit forward with his approach, but I decided that I would give it a go, at least one more time.

I put my clothes on and headed out. Scott was on a weight machine, grunting and banging away. As I neared the door, he stopped.

“Eleven-thirty tomorrow! Don’t be late!”

He started to chuckle as I left. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking back.

The following day, I hurried home from work so that I could be ready for my “workout.” The time was a bit tight, but I managed to get there at almost exactly eleven-thirty. Scott’s truck was parked out front.

He was waiting for me as I entered the locker room. He was sitting on the bench with his phone out and simply commanded me, “Take your clothes off.”

I pulled my gym clothes out and put them on the bench, then I tossed my street clothes in my gym bag. As I turned around, Scott was waiting for me. He forced me to my knees and stuffed his cock into my mouth. His cock was probably a bit under six inches long, but it seemed quite undersized on his massive torso. Not surprisingly, Scott was quite aggressive, once again. He began fucking my mouth enthusiastically, but fortunately, his length wasn’t causing me to gag too heavily.

After a bit, he was ready to step things up. He lifted me to my feet and turned me to face the lockers. Within seconds, he was sliding his cock inside of me and slamming away. Fortunately, this time I had some saliva to lubricate things, and I was a bit more prepared. He went full speed for the duration. My hands and arms ricocheted off of the metal lockers and made a hell of a racket. I was quite sure that anybody within a city block would have heard us.

He fucked the living hell out of me for a good fifteen minutes without ever slowing down. Much like the previous day, he finished deep and loud. Then he cleaned himself off and headed out of the room for his workout.

I took a quick shower before heading to the gym. Scott directed me to take the treadmill in front of him. He would randomly bark out things like “Big Daddy’s gonna fuck the shit out of you later!” He was wearing a tank top with just a pair of compression shorts. I was pretty sure that most people wear something over them, but not Scott. He certainly didn’t seem to be hesitant to show off his hard cock to whoever might be around him.

I kept going on the treadmill until Scott finished his workout. We wiped down our equipment, and Scott hit the locker room seconds after me. He had already stripped off his shirt by the time the door closed behind him, and he left the rest of his clothes scattered on the floor within a minute. He gave me an imposing look because I was slower to undress. I hurried and stripped all of my gear off and tossed it into my locker. I was feeling a bit intimidated, and my limp cock seemed to shrink in fear as Scott approached me.

The next half-hour went by like a blur as Scott dragged and carried me from one end of the locker room to the other and back again. He would frequently stop in front of one of the mirrors to watch himself as he dominated me, as well as occasionally flexing his biceps. I was beginning to figure out what really got him worked up. Several times, I either called him Big Daddy or referenced his big cock.

Things got even more intense as Scott lifted me from behind. His hands gripped my thighs as he carried me in front of a mirror. He bounced me up and down, sometimes thrusting in synch with my drop. The hard collision caused me to grunt as our bodies collided with a smack. Scott seemed to enjoy watching my cock flop up and down as he manipulated me. While it certainly wasn’t completely soft, it wasn’t hard either since it had received no stimulation at all. It flopped all over the place and slapped against my midsection or thigh randomly.

I knew that Scott was nearing climax when he stopped manipulating my body and started to pump furiously. He was hammering my ass hard and fast, and I could feel his balls slap against me with every thrust. The sharp sound ricocheted throughout the locker room and was quickly chased by the next. By the time that he finished, I was ready for him to stop, as his balls had pounded my taint until it was sore and had turned to a bright shade of red.

Once again, he finished with a lot of noise and some very hard and deep penetration. Scott lifted me slightly, and his softening cock slipped free. His load was dripping out of me as he lowered me to the ground. My legs were so weak that they wilted, and I fell onto my hands and knees.

Scott turned on a shower and was inside of it and lathering up before I had even risen to my feet. It was at that moment that I realized what this arrangement was to be. We showered and headed out of the locker room at slightly different times.

The next two weeks were mostly on repeat for about four days per week. I had decided to embrace this arrangement for what it was. It was incredibly impersonal, and Scott was certainly not what you would call a considerate partner. Even though he had no hesitation in fucking another guy in the ass multiple times a week, Scott wasn’t gay. He was merely an alpha in every sense of the word. I sensed that he would have much preferred that I had been female, but I was available to service his cock, so I was the one who received it.

Every session was much the same. I arrived and was on the receiving end of a “quickie” session. We had our workout, which was followed by a marathon, hardcore fucking that lasted nearly an hour. Scott had gotten increasingly demanding that I comply with his every whim. He ordered me to wear only a pair of compression shorts, much like him, during our workouts. The workout became his version of foreplay as he would direct me to do whatever revved him up.

I found out from Scott that there were a couple of security cameras in the gym. That was why he didn’t interact directly with me while we were on the gym floor. He wasn’t one of the four owners, but he was friends with them, and some of the weightlifting equipment belonged to him.

Besides his demanding nature, Scott never offered any sort of sexual reciprocation. I tried to make the best of the situation, attempting to pleasure myself whenever I could break a hand free. Usually, if Scott caught me masturbating, he would pull my hands away and restrain them. He never even touched my cock unless it was accidental contact as he was maneuvering me around.

I tried to work with the arrangement as much as I could, though. He had incredible stamina. I had never had a partner before who could pump that hard and fast for thirty to forty-five minutes, so I tried to embrace it for what it was, at least for a while.

Roughly three weeks into our adventure, I arrived at the gym only to find two cars already in the parking lot. It was the first time that anybody else had ever been around. I cautiously entered the gym to find nobody around. As I walked into the locker room, I heard Scott and another man joking around. The newcomer, Chris, promptly introduced himself. He was an outgoing, personable man who was the sort of guy who immediately endeared you to him. Chris was one of the four owners of the gym. He was probably in his mid-forties, and he had a more balanced, athletic build. Once we exchanged introductions, the guys urged me to get ready for a workout.

They already had their exercise gear on, which left me to change in front of them. I realized that I didn’t have any normal workout gear in my bag; I only had the shorts that Scott had insisted that I wear. I had no choice except to put that on. I stripped down and put the shorts and a workout shirt on.

We headed out to the gym as a group. Scott and Chris mostly interacted with one another at the weights, leaving me to have a good workout for once. After a good warmup, Chris joined me on the adjacent treadmill and challenged me to a race. He was just an all-around great guy. As our workout session wound down, we huddled around and talked for a bit. We entered the locker room and slowly stripped down as the conversation continued. There still had not been any indication that Chris knew what had been going on between Scott and me.

Scott was the first to get naked. He stood there stroking his cock as we chatted, acting as if it was normal behavior. Without any indication of his intent, Scott approached me and started to maneuver me against the lockers as he frequently did. He slid his cock inside my ass and immediately started pumping hard and fast. It was a bold move to do such a thing just several feet away from his friend. Chris clearly knew what was going on with us at that point, even if he hadn’t previously. Scott was always aggressive, but it seemed obvious that he wanted to show off for his friend. He battered me for several minutes before hesitating for a bit.

“See, I told you that he can take a pounding, ” Scott boasted and then quickly resumed the action.

I turned back and saw that Chris was pulling his shorts down. He had a long, lean cock that appeared to be on the rise.

Chris answered, “Yeah, I can see that!”

Scott maneuvered me around into several different positions, clearly trying to put on a show. I tried to keep an eye on Chris and his reaction. His cock was already impressive, and it was still rising. It was quite long and had the most pronounced downward curve that I have ever seen. Although it was probably about nine inches long, because of its curve, it must have only been six inches from its base to its tip. It looked much like a poorly-drawn rainbow.

I saw Chris pull a condom out of his gym bag and try to maneuver it down his beautiful but crazy-looking cock. Shortly thereafter, Scott stopped and stepped away. Chris approached me slowly and quietly asked me for permission to take a turn. He considerately guided me to an open spot in the room and had me bend over in front of him. There were moments early on when the expression ‘sticking it in sideways’ seemed to apply. There were also moments when it seemed incredibly pleasurable.

Chris was able to probe his cock all the way in within a few strokes. Although his cock seemed to mostly hold its form, it had a bit of a squishy exterior. It seemed like he struggled to get it completely rigid, which probably actually made the experience better, at least for me. He went at it for roughly ten minutes before passing me back to Scott. At that point, I knew that I was in for a long, hard pounding.

Scott pulled me over to the open area in front of the showers. It was a frequent spot for him to fuck me, as it was in front of a large mirror. He had an extended second turn at me before handing me back over to Chris.

Initial penetration was interesting once again, but it went more smoothly than the first time. I wondered how much Chris’ malleable cock conformed to my body once inside. Roughly five minutes into our second session, I started to feel a tickling sensation at the base of my cock. Several strokes later, I looked down to find that my cock had begun to drip.

“Don’t stop!” I gasped as I was trying to catch my breath.

“Looks like I found the spot, right there, ” Chris replied.

I could tell by his response that this was not the first time that he had achieved that result. For me, it was only the second time that I had been milked by a partner’s cock. It is a bit of an odd sensation, but it is one that I really enjoy anytime that I manage to achieve it. I stared downward and watched as my slowly dripping cock started to pour out a steady stream of watery seminal fluid. It splashed off the floor tile and splattered onto my feet, leaving a slippery puddle underneath me.

Chris confirmed that I had finished before handing me back over to Scott. I am not sure that Scott even knew what had happened, as he wasn’t paying much attention. I requested that we move to another area while Chris dried the area with a spare towel. The guys passed me back and forth for more than an hour before Scott emptied his load inside of me. Scott handed me back over to Chris, then grabbed a towel and started showering while Chris and I finished up.

Chris lasted another ten minutes before he finally came. I could feel his curvy cock straighten slightly and then snap back into position inside of me. His cock already seemed to be mostly flaccid as it squirmed its way out of my hole. Chris guided me to an upright position. As I turned around, I could see that his condom was bulging with a plentiful load of cum.

I decided to express to Chris how much I enjoyed the experience with him. I dropped to my knees, tugged the condom off, and quickly stuffed his cock into my mouth. I licked every bit of cum that I could find from his cock and then stuffed the entire thing into my mouth. It was quite soft, so I was able to manage the entire thing with relative ease. I wondered if I would be able to initiate another erection out of Chris, but it didn’t seem to be happening. I wondered if he had some issues with getting and maintaining an erection. After a minute or two, Chris said that we should get our collective showers. He helped me to my feet, and we hit the showers.

After that night, Scott and I resumed our usual schedule. At that point, I was getting bored with our routine, but I stuck around hoping that Chris would show up again.

It was roughly two weeks later when Chris rejoined us. It was much the same as before, and Chris was able to successfully milk me once again. At that point, I knew that he was the best fuck that I had ever had. During a moment alone, I asked Chris if he wanted to have a one-on-one experience with me. I could tell that he did, but he was reluctant to move forward with me because, apparently, I was Scott’s property.

I continued the routine for roughly another month. Scott and I had slowed our schedule down quite a bit over the last couple of weeks, and Chris joined us on two more occasions.

It was a fun time overall, and both guys had their positives. I have never gone back to the gym, though.

The Weight Room is still in business...somehow.