SPH-THEMED EROTICA STORIES

*****

Part 2…

Our next session went at the same pace as the first.  All business, firm, precise directions, and an abundance of formality.  But that is not my style.  I need to interact with people, speak with them, and engage in meaningful conversation.  Oh, who am I kidding? I have an inner need to make people laugh.  That can be accomplished either at their own or, most often, my own expense.

I listened attentively to his expertise on muscles and how they work, his educational approach to individual metabolism and diet requirements, and how he aligned this knowledge with my goals.  Apart from my nodding in response to his asking me, “Does that make sense?”  Or “Are you OK with that?”  I did little talking.

My trips home afterward were a blaze of mixed emotions and thoughts.  Trying to remember all that he passed along to me with each set and exercise, after all, that is what I was paying for.  But then there were those moments when he would hold my arms into a proper position, or place his palm on the small of my back to ensure proper posture.   Ah, those were the difficult times that forced my brain to focus and not let my little head draw too much attention to itself.  I could see how this could become difficult to maintain as we progressed.  But he never let on anything as to what I had said to him that day at the window of his car.  I felt like a blind man trying to break into a vault- the numbered wheel spinning and spinning in my fingers, trying to feel a telltale click.

Finally, I decided to lighten up the sessions with some questions that aligned with what he was teaching me, but also reached beyond our specific purpose and got a little more, shall we say, personal?

“So, how long have you been a trainer?” I thought that would be a good opener.

He shot back a flat “One and a half years.”

“Wow, here since then?”  The wheel on the vault kept spinning around. I was hoping to hit at least one number…gentle…

“After school, I started at another gym, but Linda is a friend of the family, so I joined with her here about a year and a half ago.”  I hit the first number…gentle…

“Cool, yeah, I moved here about a year ago, myself.  Took me a while to get more serious with my workouts.  This is just what I need.”

As I said, he suddenly knelt to adjust a weight pin on a stack so I could do some lat pull-downs.  His head was level with my waist, and I jerked backward in politeness.  As he rose, I saw him glance at my sweats, right where my little head made a small, almost imperceptible bump.  He smiled, which seemed to me an unexpected but welcome response.  His smile hit me like a ton of bricks.  I started a nervous chuckle, too.  I finished what I was about to say without considering the sudden shift in the situation.

“So I guess we have that in common?” I asked. “I mean …(awkward pause) we’re both here about a year!” I added quickly.

“Yeah, right…”  he said almost in a whisper as I sat for my pull-downs.

“…and too. “  I added taking advantage of the impromptu awkwardness…(what the hell, right!?)

I pulled down on the bar.

He just stared at me like he wanted to say something, but froze for a bit.  Then he looked away and then back again for a fleeting moment.  I was looking at the bar.

We proceeded on to several more machines with far less conversation for the rest of that session—no more numbers to the vault that day.  But I could swear I heard a faint CLICK.

The next session was when it all came together.  As we ended our last set, he followed me out of the gym area and walked with me toward the lockers.  He turned to me when we were far from anyone, and he asked me if I drank coffee.  The question initially sounded somewhat benign, but gave me pause…I didn’t quite know what to say.  Was this a training test of some kind?  Was coffee part of a healthy diet?  Did it inhibit muscle growth?  What was the right answer…???  I looked at him, bewildered, and asked hesitantly,  “I don’t know, should I?”

With a smile, he went on to ease my fears and explained that there was a new coffee shop not far away and that he was planning to head over for a try.  He was asking me if I’d like to join him…?

Would I like to join him?

Would I like to join him?

Would I like to join him?

“Sure, cool!”  I heard the vault door creak open…

We walked into a line of folks who shared our same idea of ‘trying the new place’.  There was no table, couch, or counter space to be had.  When we finally placed our orders, he insisted on paying, saying it was proper since he had invited me.  Once we received our steaming brews, there were still no seats available, so we sauntered outside into weather that had turned from gray to a fine misting rain.  He suggested we hang out in his truck if that sounded OK?

“Sure, it’s close enough.” I agreed.

We settled inside the truck, sipping from our cups.  It felt slightly awkward, but he seemed to relax a bit once inside his familiar cocoon.  He sat back and turned himself toward me, using the cup holders between us.

“So,” he started.  “Are you gay?”

Talk about getting to the point.  I had to chuckle and slowly nod my head, affirming that I am.

“Huh.” Was all he said

”You?” I asked in return.

“Well, maybe.   I mean, I’ve never been with a guy, and only a few girls.  But I’m  kinda curious.”  He wasn’t shy, but I could tell it took a lot of effort to talk about himself.  He continued, “You seem so sure of yourself, not like other gay guys I’ve seen.  I mean, you’re not like them.”

“OK, thanks, I guess.  I’m just always…myself, I guess.  I’m the same me with my family, friends, and anyone else I happen to meet.  ‘Strangers are just friends you haven’t met yet!’ I heard someone say that once, and I always liked it!”

“Huh, I like that.  But I’ve just always been discreet with everything, everyone.  Don’t have much family nearby.  Not too many friends, except Linda and, well, just some of her friends.  I’m not very good at meeting people.” He spoke not to me but to his cup.

“Well, you met me!”  To this, he looked up at me and offered a crooked little smile and a truthful chuckle.

“Maybe it was the way we met that …”  He stopped in mid-sentence and rubbed his eyes.  “I don’t know…”

He was descending fast. I could see the regret come over him, wanting to escape this conversation and where it was headed—the direction in which I needed to quickly re-direct.

“I have an idea!”  I was quite upbeat and animated.  “Let’s start anew, wipe the slate clean.”  That seemed to get his attention.   “I know nothing about you, and you know nothing about me.  Fair enough?”

He looked at me long and hard.  I saw something in his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes that yearned to speak.  It started to really come down outside; it got dark, and the rain whipped the windows all around us in a steady crescendo.  He put his cup in the holder between us and in one clean, swift moment reached out his hand behind my neck and drew me towards him and kissed me.  It was so soft and tender.  I could feel him shake a little, maybe it was fear, maybe it was a shot of caffeine. He backed away slightly to stare into my eyes, our noses barely touching, then he came at me again with a deliberate intensity.  The look I saw in his eyes at that moment was one of complete surrender.  He surrendered to his inner battle, to his discretion, to all that we had shared since we first met.

He held my head so tenderly in his hands as his lips played over mine. When he stopped, he held my cheek against his, and his hot breath brushed my ear.  His hands slid from my neck to my shoulders to rest gently on my chest.  He slowly settled back into his driver’s seat, both hands now on the wheel.  We sat there, silent for some unmeasured moments, listening to the rain.  What light of the day remained was being filtered through the steady waterfall on glass, shrouding everything in our little cocoon with a vibrant movement of light and shadow.

“I’m sorry, we should go.  Get you back to your car…”  he offered as he turned the key and started the engine.

“Please don’t apologize.”  I let that hang there for a moment.  “You are the most respectful man I’ve ever met.  Thank you for being you. I bet that took a lot of… courage.”  I offered softly.

When he looked up at me, his eyes were full, and he heaved a long sigh.  He grabbed one of the small napkins that were near our cups and wiped his eyes clean.  It reminded me of that first time I saw him by the sink, wiping his face and hair with a towel, so fresh and clean.  That was the last moment in his life before we actually met, when we were still unaware of each other.  The innocence of a few weeks ago, reborn?

I wanted so much to leave him be, or at least not ruin what emotional progress he had just made.  He looked toward me with those puppy eyes, trying so hard to regain any semblance of composure that he displayed when we were at the gym in a session.  I reached out and put my hand on his.

“Let’s get out of here.” He said as he put the wipers on and started to back up.

I decided I’d let him take me wherever he wanted to go…

To Be Continued…?

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