Copyright by Marathon Brad, 2026, permission given to GayDemon to reprint this story. It may not be copied to another website without prior approval from the author.
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A Triathlete's Troubles
The Heated Edition Chapter 2
Still standing in the weight room of Thrust Hard Men's Athletic Club, naked and dripping, I had not moved. My cum was on the mirror. Three men had just taken everything I had as they fondled and explored my body. My legs were still shaking when Rico pulled a small white cotton hand towel from his back pocket and handed it over with a grin. "Wrap this around your slim waist," he said. "Follow John. He will take you to the massage room."
Simple enough, I thought.
It was not simple. I stood in front of the brightly lit mirror and worked at the request, turning the towel this way and that, trying to find an angle that worked. The towel was simply too small. No matter how I positioned the overlapping ends, they kept landing directly in front of my cock, which was the last place I needed the attention drawn. My dripping erection had not softened even slightly. My thick cock stood straight up, very slick at the tip, catching the light, and the little white towel framing my erection only made things worse. The towel covered nothing that mattered.
The mirror did not help. There I was, naked and flushed in the middle of an all-male health club, in exactly the kind of situation I could never have imagined explaining to anyone. The club motto was everywhere. On the lobby sign when I walked in. On the walls of the weight room. Even here on the mirror in front of me. Play. Sweat. Repeat. I was standing with these handsome health club attendants who were watching every move I made. I pressed the towel harder against myself. I caught Rico in the reflection, that smirk on his face, giving his colleagues a wink. My predicament did not seem to bother him. He was enjoying this. All three of them were. I was definitely their entertainment.
John stepped in and tried to help, picking my tiny posing suit up off the floor and doing his best to hold the towel against my waist as he guided me forward. The strategy did not matter. My cock was too hard, too thick, too firm. The towel slipped within seconds and that was that.
Rico took over from there, and I am fairly convinced that was the plan all along. He smiled at me.
"Trust me, Brad."
Then he led my naked youthful body back and forth through the gym's weight area. He took his time. Weaving around clients with no urgency whatsoever, making sure all of the men in the room took a long look.
The more eyes that found me, the more aroused I became, and the more precum dripped from my cock. I was being walked through a weight room that had somehow filled up with lean, well-built men who all seemed to be standing directly between me and the locker room door. John even called over from across the gym encouraging me to stop for a drink at the fountain. Both of them were doing everything they could to keep me out there, naked and on display, for as long as possible.
I was aware of every eye in that room. The men at the cable machines, the ones resting between sets on the benches, the two near the stretching mats who had stopped talking entirely. They all watched. Some pretended not to. Most did not bother pretending. My cock stayed hard the entire walk and the slow drip of precum had reached my inner thigh by the time we got to the locker room door. Rico glanced back at me once and his expression said everything. He was enjoying every second of this.
Soft carpet covered the locker room floor. Two beautifully tanned men were heading to their lockers after a tennis match, still carrying that confident energy of men who had just competed. One glanced at me and stepped politely aside. The second one looked longer. His eyes moved over my smooth shaved chest, down my abs, lower, and back up again with the calmness of a man who sees exactly what he wants and is deciding what to do about it. As I passed him, he placed his hand on my ass. Not a graze. A full warm palm pressed against my glute, squeezing once with quiet authority. I heard him groan low in his throat, a sound of pleasure, like he had been waiting for an opportunity like this.
John was at the massage room door fumbling with his key and having no luck. I stood there while this man treated my body like it was his personal reward for a good day at the club. His hands moved to my shoulders, then down my back as though my body already belonged to him. When John gave up and said he needed to go back to the front desk for another key, the last set of eyes that might have kept this man in check walked away down the hall. Rico was gone. Jose was nowhere. Just me and a stranger who had decided I was his to explore.
He leaned close and whispered that it was obvious I took care of my body. That I had to be a serious athlete. His breath brushed against my ear and his hands had not stopped moving, one tracing the curves of my ass, the other resting on my hip.
I nodded. Another drop of precum landed on the carpet. I hoped John would hurry.
Rico had apparently been talking with someone. That was when the fondling stranger introduced himself as Vince. He said he had heard about a handsome triathlete who looked exactly like me. Word had already gotten around to the right people.
Vince was forty-seven and wore his age in the best possible way. Lean. Composed. The kind of man who had been turning heads for decades and knew it without being loud about it. I learned that he was the health club manager.
He asked my name. I told him Brad. He asked how I stayed in shape.
I told him I was a triathlete. 26 years old. Running was my strongest discipline, followed by biking.
Vince's eyes moved to my chest. He said I had to be a strong swimmer, too. He was feeling me up. All of me.
I smiled and told him I loved all three. No weak spots.
He nodded like that was exactly what he was hoping to hear.
I thought about how different this moment was from the version of me Vince might have passed on the street. At work I wear fitted suit pants, pleated in the front, that wrap closely around my ass in the back. Freshly pressed white shirts with no undershirt beneath. A tie that points straight down to my crotch. My thick cock positioned to give a nice mound in the front of my pants. That version of me turned heads too. But this version, standing here with nothing on and nowhere to hide, seemed to be doing a better job of it.
When John finally returned to the locker room, he unlocked his door and gave me a reason to finally break away from Vince. I followed John into the massage room. The room was about ten by twelve feet. The walls were painted a warm sage green.
John needed a few minutes to prepare the massage table. He asked me to stand nearby and wait.
Standing there, I had nothing to catch the precum that continued to leak. The plush carpet began to gather a large wet spot at my feet.
Vince came into the room to check on me. He handed me a bottle of water and let his eyes do the rest. He took his time. Starting at my shoulders. Moving down my chest. Settling on my cock before finally looking back up at me. He did not seem embarrassed about any of it.
Just like the other health club employees who made me aroused, I found myself very attracted to Vince. His thick black hair. His trimmed goatee. The way he carried himself like a man who always got what he wanted.
He looked down at the wet spot gathering on the carpet and smiled. He said a 26-year-old triathlete with a cock like mine had no business standing around waiting. He said his cleaning person Trey would come take care of the carpet. Then he put his hand on my glute and told me to relax.
His hand stayed there a beat longer than it needed to. Then he said that Rico would be joining us shortly.
John had me start the massage lying on my front so he could work on my back. While I settled in, Trey came into the room to clean the floor.
I noticed him in the wall mirror the moment he stepped in. Trey moved quietly, efficiently, like a man who was used to working around people. But his eyes were not on the carpet. They were on me. He was a very good-looking man, in his late twenties, with short preppy blondish brown hair and bluish gray eyes that caught the warm light of the room. He wore a white stretch sleeveless shirt that clung to his chest, his nipples visible through the thin fabric, and navy and white spandex shorts that left nothing about his lower body to the imagination. His legs were covered in hair that the material’s colors showed off well.
Something about Trey reminded me of a college wrestling teammate. The build. The easy confidence of a young athlete who knew exactly what his body was capable of. I had not thought about my wrestling days in a while. Being face down and aroused on a massage table was probably not the best time to start.
I watched Trey in the mirror and felt my cock press harder into the table beneath me.
To help give my body more proper attention, John asked Trey if he could assist him by holding my shoulders as John finished working on my back for a few more minutes. After, Trey was asked to move and provide support to my legs as John said that he would need them to remain slightly apart so he could work the inner sides.
Trey's hands settled confidently on my legs. He held them firmly, his palms flat against the back of my calves, thumbs grazing the skin lightly as if he could not help himself. I could feel the heat of his grip all the way up into my thighs. When John asked him to keep my legs slightly apart, Trey did not hesitate. His hands moved up just an inch or two and held firm. I pressed my face into the table and tried to breathe.
Four hands on my body. I could not think.
John had a pattern. He would begin at my round glutes and work his hands and fists upward toward whatever area he was giving attention to, such as my armpits. Each pass started a little lower. A little closer to my crack. Eventually John parted my firm cheeks and let his fingers linger at my hole. He did not rush. He pressed lightly, just enough to let me know he was there, just enough to make my breath catch. I gripped the sides of the table and said nothing.
John whispered that my ass was one of the best-looking asses he had ever seen.
I took pride in keeping my glutes as round, firm and muscular as possible. Squats every day. It showed. College wrestling had built my chest and arms over the years, giving me the kind of upper body that filled out a fitted shirt without trying. I shaved my chest clean for swimming, to pick up every extra second in the water. Standing here now, with John's hands on me, I was glad I had kept all of it up.
Trey was quiet for a moment. Then he added that he loved how soft my skin was, even down to my lower legs.
He made his point with his hands. His palm moved from my ankle to the back of my knee and stopped there. Then it kept going. Just an inch. Maybe two. His thumb pressed and held. Firm. Warm. Certain. My hole clenched. My cock was soaking the table beneath me.
A moan came out before I could stop it. Neither man said anything. They just kept going.
I could not stop leaking.
As John worked around my body, he allowed his fingers to linger with each pass. Every sound he made told me he was enjoying this. He asked why I had not visited their city and this new club sooner. His hands answered that question every time they moved across my skin.
Then John and Trey began talking as if I had fallen asleep on the table.
John asked Trey what he would do if he were ever alone in bed with a jock like me.
Trey giggled. He said he would probably spend the whole night sleepless. Like Sleepless in Seattle. I smiled into the table. I was thinking Trey could just as easily say Sleepless in his Spandex. He was that kind of dream in the tight material he was wearing. The kind of dream that made sleeping the last thing on your mind.
John agreed. He said it would be fun to find out how many ways a man could lick a body like mine. He said he had some ideas already.
I felt my cheeks part again. John's fingers found my hole and toyed with my opening. Taking his time. Learning about my body. One finger pressed in and held there. My breath left my body. I moaned. My cock pushed hard into the table beneath me and I gave up trying to control any of it.
To help with the entry, John asked Trey for assistance. He told Trey to come to the opposite side and spit onto my ass. A few beads of Trey's saliva landed on my cheeks and ran down into my crack. John used it as lubricant and worked two fingers in. Then three.
I gripped the edges of the table. My knuckles went white. John worked them in and out in a way that made me want to beg him to stop, or to never stop. I could not decide which. Every time he pushed deeper, I let out a breath. Trey watched from across the table. I could see his expression in the mirror. He was watching me take it, his chest rising and falling a little faster than before.
The room was warm. I was sweating. My cock was trapped beneath me and leaking so much I could feel the wet spreading under my hips. I pressed my face into the table and moaned into the cushion.
John whispered that my ass was so tight.
Then I felt something warm and wet that was not fingers. John's mouth found my hole and I stopped breathing entirely. Without thinking I raised my ass up off the table, offering myself to him, giving him every inch of access he wanted. My body knew what it needed before my mind caught up.
His tongue moved in slow circles around my rim, teasing the edges, reading every reaction I gave him. Then it pressed in. Deep and certain and patient. A moan tore out of me that I could not stop. My hips pushed back against his face wanting more of what he was giving me. My toes curled. My back arched. Every nerve ending I had was focused on that one spot and what John was doing to it with his mouth.
He gripped my cheeks with both hands and spread them wider. Like he wanted every last bit of me. Like he had been thinking about this since the moment I walked into the club. His tongue pushed deeper and I gasped into the cushion and whispered “Oh god” before I even knew I was going to say anything at all.
Trey watched from across the table. I could see his expression in the mirror. His lips were parted. His hand had moved to the front of those navy and white spandex shorts and was not moving away.
John took his time.
He always took his time.
The door opened. I heard Rico before I saw him. I lifted my head just enough to catch the mirror and what I saw was Rico standing in the doorway taking in the full picture. Me face down on the table. My ass raised. John's face buried between my cheeks. Trey across the table with his hand pressed against the front of his spandex shorts. Rico did not say a word for a moment. He just stood there. Pleased. Hungry. Completely unsurprised. Like a man who had timed his arrival down to the second.
Then he smiled and asked how it was going boys.
Trey let out a short laugh. John did not lift his head.
John mumbled from between my cheeks that they were having absolutely no problems helping me relax on this quiet Sunday.
Rico took position near my head. He stretched his arms and reached down to rub my lower back and upper ass with his hands. The position brought his mouth close to my ear. He was so glad I had come back today. His warm breath carried the words right into me.
I had learned that I was the talk of the club. Not just the trainers. The other clients too. The locker room had filled up fast after I walked in thirty minutes ago. Rico said all of this like it was the most natural thing in the world, his hands never stopping. As if a 26-year-old triathlete leaking onto the massage table was just part of the Sunday routine.
Trey said he should go back and finish the carpet.
John stood up and took the opportunity to show Rico just how defined my muscles were. He asked Rico to run his hands along the back of my arms and feel for himself. Rico did not need to be asked twice. His palms moved up from my elbows to my shoulders and back down again, like a man appraising something he already knew he wanted.
When completed, Trey told John he was finished spot cleaning the carpet and thought he would clean the massage room window while he was in the locker room.
Window, I thought? Where was the window?
I found out quickly. One of the walls was not a wall at all. A full window hid behind a blind drawn down to keep the men in the locker room from seeing in. When Trey raised the blind, I realized I was on display again. Just like the weight room, this club had a way of finding new ways to put me in front of an audience.
The light from the locker room spilled in and fell across my body like a spotlight. I felt it on my back, my ass, the backs of my thighs. I turned my head just enough to catch the reflection in the wall mirror and what I saw made my cock jump hard against the table. Men had already gathered. Three, four, five of them, standing at a comfortable distance with their eyes fixed on the window. Some had towels around their waists. Some did not bother. Every one of them was watching me. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. They just stood there taking me in like they had nowhere else to be on a Sunday afternoon.
Rico caught my eye and smiled.
"You look good, Brad. Let them enjoy the view."
Then he went right back to massaging my shoulders.
John went back to rimming my hole as Rico kept his hands on my arms. Neither of them acknowledged the audience. John reached beneath me with one hand and found my cock hanging hard and dripping beneath the table. He wrapped his hand around it and began pumping me as his tongue kept working my hole. I pressed my face into the cushion and tried not to make too much noise. I failed.
Trey told John and Rico he did not have his full window cleaning supplies on hand and would need to go to the front desk for his spray and towels. He said it loud enough for the men at the window to hear. He was giving them time. He knew exactly what he was doing.
After about five more minutes John stopped eating me out and asked me to turn over. My erection continued to be the center of attention, leaking like a faucet. I could now see the window clearly. Men were walking past it, some repeating the pattern, pacing back and forth, finding excuses to pass by again and again for another look at what was happening in the massage room. I was the Sunday afternoon entertainment and everyone watching out there knew it.
John took his time covering my front side with oil, working every area until my body caught the light with a nice shine. He was thorough. Nothing was skipped. His hands moved with the focus of a man who had been looking forward to this part. My cock and balls needed very little. The precum was already doing that work, giving off its own glow under the light.
John's oiled hands moved across my chest first, pressing flat against my smooth shaved skin, working outward from the center of my chest to my shoulders and back in. My nipples hardened the moment he touched them. He noticed. He ran his thumbs across both and watched my face. I could not hide it. My back arched off the table and a sound came out of me somewhere between a moan and a sigh. John smiled like he had been waiting for that exact moment.
Rico stood near my feet watching. That calm patience of a man who already knows how something is going to end. His eyes moved from my face to my chest to my cock and back up again. Taking his time. Taking all of it in. My cock jumped under his stare and another thick drop of precum ran down the shaft and caught the light.
Rico smiled.
"Looks like one muscle still needs a little attention, Brad."
I could not have agreed more.
Rico greeted Jose as he came into the room to see how things were going. He took one look at the scene and whistled. Long and low. Like a man who had just walked into exactly what he was hoping to find.
Yes, I was aroused. Having these three men near me again only made my mind race about where this massage was heading. My cock made that answer for me. Throbbing hard, another thick rope of precum ran down the shaft and caught the light. A moment later all three sets of hands began roaming my front side. Six hands. Warm oil. Nowhere to hide.
My breathing became faster and faster. Without a word the men spread my legs wide across the table.
Nobody asked.
Nobody needed to.
I wondered where Trey was. Someone needed to close that blind. The men at the window had a very good view of everything that was happening to me and I was about to give them something worth watching.
Jose lifted my hand and brought it to my cock. He wrapped my fingers around the shaft and told me to stroke for a few moments. I did not argue. He leaned in close and caressed the head with his fingertips, light and teasing, tracing the ridge, collecting the precum that had gathered at the tip and spreading it back down with his thumb. A shudder tore through my entire body. I stroked once. Twice. My hips lifted off the table.
All three men knew I was close. They had to. My cock was flushed and dripping and my breathing had become something I could no longer control. They just kept roaming their hands freely across my tan oiled skin. Chest. Abs. Inner thighs. Everywhere at once.
John had me rise up off my back and told me to support myself on my elbows. He came around behind my shoulders and worked my chest from that angle, his hands reaching around from behind, his mouth close to my ear, his breath warm on my neck.
Then I felt Rico move in close behind me, too. His lips were at my ear. His hand appeared over my shoulder holding a small brown bottle. He did not say a word at first. He just let me look at it. The cap came off with a soft click.
I hesitated.
Rico's lips brushed my ear. Trust me, Brad. His voice was barely above a whisper. He said it would open everything up. That my body was ready. That he had been waiting for the right moment and this was it.
I turned my head toward the bottle and inhaled. Once on the left. Once on the right.
The rush came from somewhere behind my eyes and rolled through every muscle in my body like a slow warm wave. My hole loosened and pulsed. My cock swelled so thick and hard in John's hand that I heard myself groan from somewhere deep in my chest. The room tilted. Every hand on my body multiplied. The men at the window blurred and brightened at the same time. My whole body was one open nerve ending and every man in that room had access to all of it.
Rico screwed the cap back on and slipped the bottle into his pocket. His lips stayed at my ear.
"Good boy," he whispered. "Now give them everything."
Then he said that the massage was just the beginning. That my hole had no idea what was still being planned for it this week.
I was not going to last much longer.
John took my rigid cock in his hand and began to milk me again. He stopped to rub the precum from my slit around my crown. He said all my muscles needed to be taken care of. I was too far gone to wonder anymore if Trey was coming back to close the blind. John whispered to me to just relax.
His hand was slick with oil. Long firm strokes from base to tip, steady and certain, a rhythm that made my thighs tense and my toes curl. I dropped my head back and that is when I noticed them. Small red lights. Blinking in each corner of the ceiling.
Cameras.
This room had cameras.
I did not know whether to be shocked or more turned on than I already was. My cock answered that question for me. Throbbing hard in John's hand, another thick rope of precum ran down the shaft.
The crowd at the window had grown. Eight, maybe ten men now, pressed close to the glass. Some had towels. Some did not bother. Every one of them was watching me. Rico glanced over at the window and gave the crowd a slow easy nod. Like he was their host. Like he had arranged all of this just for them. Maybe he had.
The oil on my skin continued to catch the light. My chest was flushed. My nipples were stiff. Three men on me at once, cameras blinking in the corners, and every eye at that glass fixed on what was about to happen to my body.
How did I keep getting into these situations? I thought.
Rico leaned in close. In a quiet sexy voice, he told me to cum. Do it again for us all to see. He said I was a real horny young man to watch when I was about to shoot a load.
I was not going to make him wait long.
John's grip picked up its pace. One hand worked my crown while the other stroked my shaft. His fingers slid down with each stroke until they grazed my thick patch of pubic hair. The oil made every pass feel like nothing I had ever experienced on a massage table before.
“Yes,” I moaned quietly. “This feels so good.”
Jose held my balls in one hand, rolling them with a patience that made my breath catch. His other hand slid under my ass and found my hole. Still open from everything John had done to it earlier. Jose looked up at me for just a moment. Then he brought his fingers to my mouth.
I opened without being told. I licked them slow. Every one. He watched my face the whole time with a grin that told me he had been planning this since the moment he walked into the room.
Then he pressed two fingers into my hole. I gasped. My hips lifted off the table and pushed back against his hand before I even realized I was doing it. Jose felt that and smiled. He knew exactly what my body was telling him.
He worked his fingers in and out with a slow steady rhythm that matched nothing John was doing with his hand on my cock. The two of them were completely out of sync and that was the point. One pushing me forward. One pulling me back. Nowhere to go except deeper into both of them at once. My head dropped back. My eyes closed. Nothing existed outside that room and those hands.
Jose pressed his fingers deeper and curled them slightly. Whatever he found in there made my whole body jerk. A sound came out of me that I did not recognize as my own voice. John tightened his grip and kept stroking. Rico watched my face from across the table with those dark patient eyes and said nothing. He did not need to.
Then Jose pulled his fingers out just enough to spit onto them. Warm and wet. Then back in. Deeper this time. I moaned.
I finally had to say something. I told them they were gorgeous. Every one of them. That they had no idea what they were doing to me.
John said they loved touching my body. He told me to just relax and let it go. To shoot my warm white seed all over my jock chest muscles. His grip tightened as he said it.
Something built from somewhere deep. Starting at the base of my spine and spreading outward like heat. My cock swelled harder in John's hand, thicker and more urgent with every stroke. My whole body went rigid. My toes curled. My jaw clenched. I grabbed the edges of the table and held on like the table was the only thing keeping me in that room.
Then Rico was at my ear again. The soft click of the cap. His hand came around and held the bottle under my nose.
One more time, he whispered. Let go completely for us.
I inhaled. Both sides. The rush hit harder this time. My hole clenched around Jose's fingers and my cock surged in John's hand and every camera in every corner of that room and every eye at that glass and every warm hand on my body collapsed into one single blinding point of heat.
The cameras blinked red in the corners. The men at the window pressed closer. Rico watched my face with those dark eyes and that patient smile of a man who had been waiting for this moment since the second he first laid eyes on me in the weight room.
I was right there. Right on the edge. One more stroke and the whole club was going to know it.
The moment did not last long before I let go and shot another large load. The climax seemed to last forever. I could not believe what was happening to me on this Sunday.
I looked toward the window. More men had gathered, including Vince and Trey. All of them watching. All of them smiling. Vince gave a slow nod like he was approving of everything he saw. Trey's smile lit up the room. That youthful face glowing in the light, beaming, like he had just witnessed something he would not forget for a long time.
The cum landed across my chest and abs in thick ropes. John kept stroking through all of it, drawing out every last wave until my hips were jerking and I was making sounds I could not control. Rico pressed his hand flat against my chest and held it there, steadying me, grounding me while my body shook through the last of it.
When the last wave passed Jose slowly pulled his fingers from my hole. Then he tapped my inner thigh once. Warm and approving. Like a coach who had just watched his athlete break a record.
My arms gave out and I dropped back onto the table. My chest was heaving. My load was cooling on my skin.
I lay there afterward with my cock still twitching, covered in my own load, completely on display through that open blind, and I felt completely satisfied.
Jose gathered some of the cum that had landed on my abs, chest and neck. He asked me if I wanted to taste it.
I nodded.
Jose brought his fingers to my mouth. The same fingers that had just been deep inside me. I opened without hesitation and licked them clean one by one.
The window crowd watched every second of it. I could not look away from them.
The men at the glass pressed closer. I held their gaze and opened my mouth for John's fingers again. I was putting on a show and every man out there appeared to enjoy it.
Then Rico stepped in. He collected what was left from my chest with two fingers and brought them to my lips next. I took them without hesitation. His dark eyes stayed on mine the whole time. I licked his fingers just as clean and he let out a long slow breath like he had been holding it since the moment he first walked me through that weight room.
Rico’s smile melted my heart every time. He gave me a long slow wink. He knew. He had known all along. Another Sunday. Another situation I had walked right into with my eyes wide open.
John tapped my chest and thanked me for being a good sport. He reminded me that the massage was on him. No charge. He then asked with a grin if he had done a nice job.
I was not in the mood to make eye contact with anyone. I giggled. My load was still drying on my chest. The blind was still up. The men at the window were still there. I said I did not know how the massage could have been any better.
Excellent, John said. He told me he would be happy to provide another massage before I left my hotel in a few days. His hand was still resting on my chest when he said it.
My face still felt warm. My cock was still half hard. I told him I would be more than happy to receive another massage but hoped the window would be cleaned by then.
The guys laughed. All of them. Even the men at the window smiled. They reassured me they would do their best to have it cleaned before the afternoon was out. Nobody seemed to be in any hurry to close the blind.
I turned to Rico during this very uncomfortable moment and reminded him that what I really wanted right now was a chance to cool down in the pool.
He raised an eyebrow. Like that was the funniest thing he had heard all day.
Oh yes. The pool. The wet area.
Was that not the reason I came into this gym in the first place?
At least that was what I kept telling myself.
Play. Sweat. Repeat.
Author is Brad
My email address is [email protected]. Please share your thoughts with me.
Other stories I have available here on GayDemon include The Chosen Jock, George and His DILF, and Diego’s Heat in the Pool.
I love making men excited whether through reading my erotic stories, watching me work out in my skin tight gear at the gym, sharing my body online, or dancing on a stage.
I will stay hard for you in every way that matters.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
