I didn’t think he even knew my name. We went to the same gym: small, 24-hour, no-frills spot tucked behind a strip mall. The kind of place that smells like sweat and pre-workout and plays the same ten rock songs on loop. Ethan? He was the loud guy. The hot one. Always flexing in the mirror, always surrounded by girls, always shirtless by the time he got to his last set. Straight as hell. Walked like he owned the floor.
I kept my head down. Same 9PM slot every night, hoodie on, headphones in. We’d maybe nodded once or twice. But a few nights ago, he stopped me mid-set and said, “Yo Leo, can you spot me?”
That was it.
One set became two. Then a stretch. Then a full workout together. Then it kept happening.
Tonight, we were finishing chest and shoulders. I wiped down my bench. He was messing with his hair in the mirror, shirt off, shorts slung low.
“Got a date tonight man,” he said, tossing me a grin. “Can’t go in too worked up.”
I blinked. “What do you mean Ethan?”
He shrugged. “You know. Pent-up. Need to clear my head. You ever help a bro out before a date?”
I laughed...awkward, nervous. “Like... what?”
He didn’t laugh. He held eye contact in the mirror, flexing a little.
“I’m serious. Blowjob. Quick. You want it or not?”
He said it like he was offering gum. Like this was nothing. Just a favor.
I followed him into the back locker room, heart punching through my chest. Late-night meant we were alone. Fluorescent lights buzzing. Rows of empty lockers. He sat on the bench like he belonged there, legs wide, gym bag beside him. He pulled his phone out, typed something, then dropped it on the bench.
“Girl’s running late,” he muttered. “Perfect timing.”
He spread his thick thighs a little more. Looked at me, eyes lazy.
“Well?”
I dropped to my knees.
He didn’t even pull them down. He made me do it. Tugged the waistband of his gym shorts down and revealed a fat, semi-hard cock already leaking. Bigger than I expected. 8 inches. Uncut. Thick. He smelled like sweat and salt and pre-cum; raw, gym-boy pheromones hitting me like a fucking drug.
“You ever done this before?” he asked, like he didn’t care about the answer.
I nodded.
He leaned back on his elbows, his chest rising slow, lazy. “Then don’t be shy,” he said, watching me like a challenge. “Got twenty minutes before the date.”
I lowered my head between his legs and wrapped my lips around the tip of his cock, warm and already leaking. My spit rushed in instantly, thickening as I eased down on him. The weight of it. The heat. He tasted like sweat and gym heat, the kind of raw, salty grime that clings after a hard lift.
He let out a low groan, one deep, careless sound that vibrated through his chest and tilted his head back like he was just stretching out after a long lift. Like this was routine.
I started slow, easing him deeper inch by inch, letting his cock swell in my mouth until he was hard enough to ache. My tongue worked under the head, circling, teasing the slit. Every twitch made me hungrier. Every pulse told me he liked it, even if he didn’t say a word.
He didn’t move. Didn’t guide me. Just sat there with his legs spread and his cock in my mouth like it belonged there. Eyes half-lidded, breathing steady, watching me take care of it like I was nothing but part of his warm-up.
He got harder fast. Heavy in my mouth. Slapping against my tongue when I went too fast. His thighs flexed. He adjusted his hips.
“Fuck, yeah,” he muttered. “That’s it. Sloppy, just like that.”
I looked up at him, but his eyes were on the mirror behind me; watching himself, not me. Watching the way his abs flexed every time he fucked my throat.
He grabbed my head when I started gagging. Didn’t push, didn’t stop either. Just held me there, letting his cock throb against the back of my throat.
“Goddamn. You’re good.”
I moaned around him; couldn’t help it. I was leaking in my shorts, hands gripping his thighs so hard they shook.
He started fucking my face slow. Controlled. Measured. Like a workout. Like he knew how deep he could go and how long I could take it. “Thought you’d choke,” he muttered, eyes still on himself. “Guess not.”
His phone lit up. He didn’t check it.
“Gotta make this quick,” he said, voice lower now. “Open that mouth wider.”
He pushed deeper. I choked, spit flooding out the corners of my mouth, dripping onto the tile. He groaned again, this time louder. Breath hitched.
Then he stood. Pulled out. Tugged me by the jaw and smeared the head of his cock across my tongue, cheek, nose. Marking me.
“You gonna swallow?”
I nodded.
He shoved it back in. He didn’t last thirty seconds. One hand on my head, the other gripping the bench, hips grinding in tight, short thrusts.
Then he gasped; short, sharp and came hard. Flooded my throat with it. Thick. Salty. Endless. I swallowed and gagged and swallowed again. He didn’t stop until he was fully drained.
When he pulled out, his cock slapped wet against my chin. I stayed kneeling, throat raw, mouth open, breath shallow. He didn’t look at me. Just adjusted his shorts, grabbed his phone, and muttered, “Appreciate it Leo. She’s downstairs.”
Then he left. Like it was nothing.
The door clicked shut.
A minute later, I got a text.
Ethan: i’ll let you know if that blowjob helped me last longer. might need you again next weekend if the trick works
────୨ৎ────
I did not expect to see him again. Definitely not like this.
It was around 9:30 PM. Gym mostly cleared out. Just a few people still finishing their sets. I had wrapped up a legs workout and was showering. Steam curled off the tile. My head was down, eyes closed; just standing there and rinsing off.
I heard the door swing open. Didn’t think much of it; until I turned and saw him.
Ethan.
He had a towel wrapped around his waist. Shirtless. His skin was glistening like he’d just finished a brutal set. Phone in hand, scrolling like he couldn’t decide whether to rinse off or check his DMs. He smirked when he saw me. Walked right into the stall next to mine. No hesitation. “Bro. Leo..”
I blinked. “Yes..Ethan?”
He leaned against the tile. “It worked.”
“What do you mean?”
He grinned wider. “Last week. That blowjob you gave me? Nasty shit. I was able to last longer with this chick after. Like, way longer.”
He didn’t even wait for me to respond. Just stepped closer. I could see the drops of sweat running down his abs. “So,” he said casually, “you wanna help out again today?”
“I’ve got another date tonight,” he added, shifting his stance so the towel dipped lower across his waist. “This girl Emily. Hottie. I wanna impress her.”
His eyes slid down to my mouth. “And I’m not gay or anything. Just… figured you could help again"
I hesitated. “Bro..I thought that was a one-time thing.”
Ethan turned, walked back out of the stall, and dropped his phone on the bench like he was setting down a water bottle. “C’mon, man,” he called back. “I really wanna bang this chick tonight. Emily’s hot as hell. If I cum now, I’ll last longer when I fuck her tonight.”
He looked at me over his shoulder. Waiting.
I swallowed.
“…Yeah. Okay.”
He turned back around, already grinning. “I was jerking off before I came to the gym,” he said, stepping closer. “But fuck... I couldn’t finish. I always need a mouth or a pussy on my cock to get off.”
He looked down at me, “Then I remembered; you suck dick like crazy.” He let his towel drop and stepped in close, like my mouth was already open for him.
I dropped to my knees. “I’m only doing this to help out, man,” I mumbled, looking up at him. “I’m not into you or anything.”
Ethan smirked like he didn’t believe me. Or didn’t care. “Thanks, Leo,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re the best." He angled his cock in one hand and guided it to my mouth, slow and deliberate, like he’d done this a hundred times. I caught it right away: sweat, a trace of precum from when he was probably jerking off before the gym, blending with the warm, salty taste of his skin after a workout.
I wrapped my lips around the head, tongue teasing the slit, spit already pooling at the corners of my mouth.
“Fuck, Leo. Yeah. This is exactly what I needed.”
He looked down at me, smirking. “Fuck, man. You suck way better than the girl I fucked last weekend. You should do it more.”
One hand gripped my hair while the other braced against the wall. Then he shoved and buried his cock deeper like my mouth was his to use. His cock drove deep into my mouth...wet, blunt, fast. I gagged. Water hit the back of my neck. My hands scrambled for his thighs as he started to fuck my face with the same rhythm he probably used on the leg press.
“Open wider,” he said. “You’re good at this. Might as well go deeper this time..”
He set the pace; fast, controlled, brutal. Each thrust pressed my nose to his abs, skin slapping against skin, balls hitting my chin. My throat tightened, then gave in. I drooled, choked, swallowed.
“Emily better fucking appreciate this,” he muttered. “You’re doing all the hard work.”
He adjusted his grip and shoved his cock deeper into my mouth. My gag reflex fired again and again. Didn’t stop him. He held me there until my eyes watered and spit poured down my neck in hot, slick strands. “Fuck, yeah bro” he groaned. “Throat’s fucking tight.”
He started moaning louder. Low, animal sounds. Still fucking my mouth like it was a means to an end. My jaw ached. My knees shook. I was soaked, rock hard, untouched. He was deep in my throat, heavy and slick, and I could taste everything. Sweat. Salt. That raw, gym-boy flavor that clung to his skin. The deeper he got, the nastier it got. I fucking loved it.
I pulled back for a second just to breathe, spit webbing from my lips to the tip of his cock. “You taste so fucking good,” I muttered, voice hoarse, throat ruined. “Tastes like sweat and cum.”
“Fuck,” he grunted, fist tightening in my hair. “Say that again.”
I didn’t get the chance. He shoved back in, harder this time, burying himself deep again. My eyes rolled. My throat fluttered around him. I could feel every vein now, every twitch like he was about to blow.
His hips stuttered. Breathing turned ragged. Wet, desperate grunts filled the stall; every thrust louder, sloppier. I gagged around him, spit bubbling up around the seal of my lips. The slap of skin against skin echoed with every grind of his hips. He let out a long, guttural moan, cock twitching hard against my tonsils. Then he growled, “Fu-uckk Gonna nut... don’t pull back...”
One last thrust. Balls pressed to my chin. Then he came. Hot, salty, thick.
I gagged once, then swallowed. Fast. Barely keeping up. His cock pulsed against my tongue, dumping shot after shot down my throat.
He pulled out halfway through the last spurt on purpose. Let it paint my lips, my chin. Then slapped the head of his cock against my lips, slow and wet. Cum dripped down my mouth, slid off my chin, hit the tile with a tap and mixed into the stream of shower water running past my knees.
He looked down, satisfied. Smirking. “I wonder if Emily can deepthroat better than you.” Then he stepped back and grabbed his towel, drying his face. Before he turned to leave, he looked down at me one more time and said, “Leo. I think I might need to invite you over if the date doesn’t go well.”
He walked off...slow, loose, like he’d just hit a new PR.
I was still kneeling there, dripping. Throat raw. Cum and water mixing on the floor. And deep down, I had a feeling he was going to call me over even if the date went well. He just needed an excuse to fuck my throat, and I secretly loved every part of servicing a straight guy.
______
Guys like Ethan get addicted to having their dicks sucked..especially when someone like Leo gags on dick better than any chick ever could. Date or no date, it’s only a matter of time before Ethan sends a late night invite.
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