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. Please feel free to share your comments, thoughts and/or ideas with me at [email protected]
I was very honored to have received this opportunity of being a physical education professor at the prestigious Prima Universitate Internațională de Atletism in Bucharest, Romania, for this school year. The All-English speaking college was well known for educating athletic males in both academics and soccer. In addition to being hired to teach physical education, I was appointed to serve as an advisor for the freshmen class and coach them with their academics. Some of my students were not fluent in English and were required to receive an hour of independent tutoring in the English language from me each week.
Although I was strong playing the game of soccer, I was more known in the athletic community for my wrestling accomplishments. I had wrestled and played soccer in college back in Philadelphia. My physique was of a very fit, well-toned 42-year-old athletic jock that enjoyed having my muscles on display as much as possible. I welcomed the opportunity of wearing tight-fitting clothing and/or a pair of minimal soccer shorts.
There were five students that had a basic understanding of the English language. George, an eighteen-year-old, dark-haired, handsome athletic student was from Prague. Among the group, George had the charisma that could melt any room upon entering the door. The first time I had met him, neither one of us could take our eyes off of each other.
The Director of the University, Dr. Hezky, set up the introduction meeting with George and me. Both Dr. Hezky and George were from the same wealthy suburb of Prague. Dr. Hezky had his eyes on George during his high school years as he also played for the Czech international team. He knew that George could excel at his university and searched out a strong athletic teacher who could be a wonderful mentor for George.
Dr. Hezky stood close beside George, both of them facing me as he translated. He seemed focused on the conversation, unaware of the quiet moments when George and I locked eyes. The young man had the charm to keep my attention. A few times, I noticed him slowly lick his lips while looking at me, and I felt myself drawn in more than I expected.
As I admired George's youthful body, I roamed my eyes from his well-trimmed head of black hair, down to his stylish Adidas black athletic shoes. George was wearing a pair of white fitted silky soccer shorts that had pockets. The white shorts contrasted well with the body hair that could be seen on his exposed legs.
The freshmen student had placed his hands in his pockets after the introduction began and seductively fondled his cock and balls. At times George caught me noticing his playful show as he stroked the head of his cock through the fabric. I felt my knees get weak and wondered how I would respond if I ever had the opportunity of watching this student in the locker room showers.
Dr. Hezky ended the conversation by stating he was appreciative that we all had this opportunity of meeting and that he was looking forward to some wonderful bonding between George and me. All of us smiled as if we agreed with Dr. Hezky's thoughts and hopes for the upcoming school year.
A few weeks into the school year, I prepared for a physical education class with the freshmen students. I enjoyed wearing very short and white thin nylon fabric shorts. On warm September days the light weight shorts that I wore breathed very well for me. I knew today was George's turn to lead the class with our end-of-class stretching routine.
The late September sun filtered through the tall gymnasium windows, casting long streaks of golden light across the polished wood floor. The room buzzed with the chatter from the freshmen class as they took their positions for the stretching routine. George stood confidently at the front of the group with the most perfect upright posture.
I stood to the side, arms loosely crossed, observing as he directed his classmates in broken English. His accent was thick, and though his words were not always precise, his gestures were clear. "Stretch... arms up. Hold. Yes, good!" he said, smiling when the group followed along.
George's short dark black hair curled slightly at the edges, dampened by the lingering heat of the day, and his athletic build was showcased perfectly in his fitted required workout gear. He looked up at me from time to time, perhaps for approval. Each glance felt intentional, lingering just a moment too long, his brown eyes searching mine.
I nodded encouragingly, keeping my expression neutral, though I was aware of every detail, the afternoon sunlight caught the sharp angles of his face, George's presence commanding the attention of the room, including mine.
As the routine progressed, George's confidence seemed to grow. "Next, we go...uh, legs." He demonstrated and stepped into a forward lunge. His movements were deliberate, almost exaggerated, as if he knew someone was watching closely. He looked toward me again with a small curve at the corner of his lips.
The class followed his lead, but I could not shake the feeling that George's performance was more for me than for them. I cleared my throat, forcing my attention back to the group. The intensity of George's glances and the controlled precision of his movements were difficult to ignore.
When the session ended, I gave George and the group a quick nod. "Well done today. George, you did a great job leading."
George appeared to enjoy leading the final stretches, his body moved effortlessly, each muscle flexing and shifting beneath his skin. He knew how to command attention, and he thrived on it.
"Thank you," he replied to me, his words hesitant but sincere. His gaze lingered on me again. As the other students dispersed, George held the smile on his lips before he turned to rejoin his classmates leaving for the locker room.
As the rest of the students showered, grabbed their things, and headed out, their voices faded into the hallway. George lingered near the locker room. I stood by the door, pretending to sort through some papers, but my attention kept drifting back to him.
George was not in a hurry to change. Instead, he stretched his arms again, rolling his neck like he needed more time to cool down. But I knew better. He was stalling and waiting.
Finally, when the last student disappeared, George glanced my way, his dark brown eyes aimed to control my interest before he finally walked fully into the locker room. I followed after him, my pulse already picking up.
With all the students gone, but George, the locker room was silent. The damp air was thick with the scent of sweat and body wash.
The locker room's shower area was built wide open, fully visible to anyone standing anywhere in the room. George knew that. He also knew exactly where I was standing.
He took his time undressing, peeling off his sweaty shirt, letting it drop to the bench beside him. His lean, athletic frame was on full display, strong pecs, tight abs, his skin golden under the dim locker room lights. He stretched again, arms reaching overhead, his lats flaring slightly, making sure I saw every inch of his toned torso. His arm pits were matted beautifully with black hair.
George took advantage of one of the lone bright flood lights that lit areas of the dull looking locker room. The flood light acted as a spot light above his handsome, youthful perfectly toned body.
Then he slid down his shorts.
His powerful thighs flexed as he stepped out of them, standing in nothing but his white jock. The fabric clung to him, outlining everything beneath. He hesitated for just a moment, forming a bit of amusement across his face. George then glanced in my direction as if he knew I was watching him. With one slow motion, he pushed his athletic supporter down.
Completely bare, George grabbed a towel and draped it over him, highlighting every ridge and curve of his body. He reached for some soap, lathering up slowly, his hands gliding over his chest, down his tight stomach, spreading the foam over his muscles. His movements were unhurried, deliberate. He knew I continued to watch as he worked to build up white lather to place the cleaning foam all over him. The contrast of the white lather and his tanned skin was so beautiful to view.
His fingers traced over his arms, then lower, sliding over his hips, teasing just enough to make my breath jump. Every shift of his body was calculated, a performance made just for me. George was my current Statue of David, but brought to life.
George continued, resting one of his palms on the shaft of his cock, slowly stroking it. The other hand lightly played and teased his right nipple. The combination of the two had no trouble helping his cock to quickly get hard, pointing straight out from his magnificent perfect body with his balls hanging like low lying fruit.
I found myself moving closer to the edge of the shower room, George just standing a few meters from me. I was being drawn to this erotic show, needing to be as close as possible.
The intense lathering was being developed with the soap liquid that George carefully placed in his two hands from the nearby dispenser. White lather was constantly flowing down his adonis body for me to view. I watched in awe as he found a seductive way to jack off his athletic cock amidst the lathering work. I wanted that cock. I needed that cock.
George turned slightly, giving me a slight view of his back, his shoulder blades shifting, his spine curving down to the firm roundness of his beautiful ass. He would run his hands over it, letting the soap glide down his thighs. He was in complete control. Jerking off for his professor to see. I was in love with this young college stud and he knew it.
After what seemed like a 10 to 15 minute show, George abruptly stopped lathering and allowed the lather to rinse completely off his naked body. He stood there, water streaming down his body, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths. I watched as he turned his head slightly, eyes locking with mine from across the room.
A smirk. A knowing, sly smirk.
George remained in the shower area, legs spread wide with one arm artfully placed on the back of his neck, exposing his hairy arm pit. His cock was yearning to shoot. He stared at me as I watched this athletic God stroke for me. I marveled at how he worked the head of his cock. Circling the hard knob, teasing and pleasuring himself. I wanted to lick his perfectly exposed nipples that were at the height of his developing upper chest. To be able to worship and touch this college student would be a dream. I would take my time, allowing not to be rushed with this well-built young man.
George was in no hurry to end this display of erotic behavior. There was no need for him to end as the locker room and gymnasium would not have another class coming in for over an hour. It was like he knew the schedule.
My skimpy looking white athletic thinned fabric shorts had become damp, the front showing signs of pre cum leaking from my hardened cock. George smirked at the sight of my now exposed precum. I could tell he was realizing I was a slut. A man that wanted a cock to suck and used for my joy.
As I continued to watch this show, George appeared to be on a make-believe stage, as his climax finally took place. I carefully admired this jock as he shot his cum. His face showed the sign that an eruption was going to take place. His breathing came to a stop.
His load shot many spurts across the shower room. Thick, long ropes flew from the head of George's cock. What remained in his hand was brought up to his mouth as he licked the last of the load onto his tongue.
I exhaled, too.
George then walked slowly, grabbed his towel and slung it over his shoulder before stepping out of the shower past me. I turned and continued to watch. He did not rush to get dressed. Instead, he continued to drag out every motion, making sure I saw everything. And I did.
George had just shifted the balance between us, claiming a quiet kind of dominance in that moment. And I let him.
Author is Brad
My email address is [email protected]. Please share your thoughts with me.
I enjoyed the opportunity of sharing our fantasy thoughts in this story between my younger friend, George, and me.
Another story I have here on GayDemon is The Chosen Jock.
I love making men excited whether through reading my erotic stories, watching me workout in my skin tight gear at the gym, showing off on line or dancing on a stage.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
