An encounter in the gym
I’m a machine… fuck bruh, look at me while I’m pumping out hammers with the fifties, it’s nowhere near my max, but it’s enough to catch your attention. I see you trying not to look at me in the mirrors while I work, but you just can’t help it can you? I’m so diesel, you can see every vein in these guns, glistening wet with sweat, each one taping out at 22" inches of grade A beef without the pump. I groan a bit, just for the effect… yeah, you’re watching me all right, I just caught your eye, and suddenly the screen on the lifecycle you’re riding is the most important thing in the room, but that only lasts for about 30 seconds and I can feel your gaze return.
I drop the weights to the ground with a bang, and you jump just a bit… I pull up my wet, gray sleeveless tee, and crunch my six pack in the mirror, your tongue is practically hanging out… with my right hand I adjust the bulge in my white spandex tights, and give you a smirk in the mirror. I can almost hear the thoughts in your head, you want to be me, this big, this swole, this overwhelmingly masculine. You’re probably not gay, but it don’t fucking matter, some part of you is turned on by this display… I strike a few poses, damn these guns are tight… I’m fucking on the verge of overheating even with the sweat pouring out of every pore, but its not time to cool down yet. I use the hem of my already wet shirt to wipe my brow, knowing that by pulling up my shirt so high you can see my sweat drenched crack, the white spandex basically translucent, i know you can make out the straps of my jock against the white fabric. Damn, I almost wish I could see my ass myself, but I know it’s big, round, and thick, product of endless squats, ass to the fucking grass, bruh, ass to the fucking grass…
I slow walk my way across the gym floor, knowing you’re still trying not to look, but how can’t you as I stop to take a swig out of my gallon jug, and hum and sing tunelessly to the music playing on the gym’s sound system, taking up as much space and drawing as much attention as possible. I’m finally near the row of bikes, and of the 6 available, I swagger up to the one next to you. I know you’re fucking smelling my man scent now, and you’re repulsed and turned on at the same time. I smell like a thousand locker rooms, like a dirty jock, a pig, and you fucking love it because I smell like a real fucking man, an Alpha… I smell the way a real man should, of sweat, and cum, and a bit of piss… it’s a scent I’ve cultivated because I know it works. Nobody smelling this is going to doubt I’m anything but a real fucking male….
I get on the bike next to you and grunt, ‘fuckin’ cardio fuckin’ sucks, don’t it?"
You mumble some reply, almost ashamed that I’m talking to you, a mere man, when I’m so much more… I begin my cardio intervals, and when I have a slow interval, I bring my guns up over my head in a stretch, giving you a full on blast of my musk… I can’t tell if you’re ready to cry or cum, fuck bruh, this is like my favorite part, cause I know what’s coming.
You practically jump off that bike, and I can see by the tent in those baggy shorts, you’re fucking turned on. I watch you hurry across the gym floor to the locker room, just where I want you… I dismount from the bike and I saunter across the floor. You ain’t going nowhere… when I enter the locker room, I hear the shower going, I know I just have to wait. I strip down silently, admiring myself with every movement… the shower shuts off just as I strip off my jock exposing my leaking 10 inch fuck stick to the world. It’s just a step into the shower room. My bulk fills the doorway… you try to get around me, but it’s impossible, you’re not getting around a guy who’s 5’9, 290 with visible fucking abs unless he wants you to, and that is not part of my plan.
I half shove you, half intimidate you back into the shower. You tremble both from fear and from the water drying on your skin. Ive got you pinned in the corner. You start to shout for help, but my fuckin’ hungry mouth shuts you up pretty damn quick… fuck, maybe you are a fag the way you’re greedily returning my kisses, fuckin’ A bonus for me, makes this so much easier… I push your face away from mine, bringing it to rest in my pit…
“Lick…” I command, and you do. I can feel your pathetic tool grow hard against my leg, and I know it’s fuckin’ time.
I brusquely flip you around, and I ram my dripping cock in hard… no foreplay, no lube… I begin my rhythmic pumping.. and grunt in your ear, “I… am… a … fucking… machine…” just as I release my seed, the seed that now links us. I watch you shudder and explode, the best and longest orgasm of your existence… fuck me, this is hot… your head slumps forward as the nanobots contained in my cum take control of your pathetic body and mind… after a few minutes our control is complete, and you stand erect. You turn to me , and say, “I am a machine…”
There is no need for more speech, using our link I transmit all I know. Your body feels every rep I’ve ever performed, every fucking bench press, squat, deadlift, row, and curl… your body begins to respond… I watch as we change you, watch your back widen, your traps mound toward your ears, your pecs, legs, and arms fucking blow up like balloons… as your rod expands I know you are close to complete. Your vocabulary is being replaced with what people expect from a typical meathead, bruh, and your attitude begins to fuckin’ match mine, no more pussy boy beta, you are fuckin’ next generation Alpha now… I can hear your thoughts conforming, you are one, I am one, fuckin’ we are one… part of the many, soon the one will be all. Last of all our musk overcomes you… we are perfect, we are complete.
Wordlessly we leave the shower. I dress you in clothes from my gym bag, a dirty jock, tights, a lime green stringer and matching shoes… through our link, I give you the address of a gym across town, instructions on how to stock your collection kit,and send you on your way…
As for me, my cooldown period is now complete. Time to bust some quads, I am a machine…