Tongues Sliding
Thursday morning the gym felt smaller, the air already warmer even before the sun rose over Vienna. Patrick stepped inside at 6:30, the glass door clicking shut behind him like a secret. His body was buzzing from the night before. He had replayed the shower scene in his head until he fell asleep, Mike’s thick, hairy cock sliding between his lips, the taste of his cum still faint on his tongue hours later. Patrick had come twice in his own bed just thinking about it, but the ache had only deepened. He wanted to push further today. He wanted to hear Mike moan louder, wanted to feel that furry body give in a little more.
He changed quickly, the white tank top stretching tight across his smooth, muscular chest, the black compression shorts hugging his thighs and the growing outline of his cock. The mirror caught every flex as he walked onto the empty floor and started his routine. Shoulders first, heavy dumbbells rising and falling while sweat began to trace shiny paths down his hairless abs. By the time he moved to the squat rack his skin was glowing, nipples tight, cock half-hard and pressing visibly against the thin fabric. He loved the way he looked right now, pumped and ready, knowing Mike would see exactly what he was offering.
At 6:55 the door chimed. Mike came in with his toolbox and a coil of fresh cabling, dark-blue work trousers clinging to his powerful legs, polo stretched across that broad, hairy chest. His green eyes found Patrick immediately in the mirror. This time the nod was slower, almost deliberate, and Patrick noticed the faint flush already creeping up Mike’s neck. Patrick dropped from his last pull-up, grabbed his phone, and typed without hesitation.
Locker room. Now. I want your mouth on me today. And I want to taste you again while you’re still in that work gear.
He sent it, then kept lifting for a few more minutes, letting the tension build. His phone buzzed sooner than expected.
On my way in five. Still shy but… fuck I want it too.
Patrick smiled, finished his set, and headed straight for the locker room. The small space was quiet except for the distant hum of the city waking up outside. He stripped deliberately, tank top first, then the shorts, standing naked under the lights. His cock was already fully hard, smooth and thick, curving up toward his abs. He stroked himself once, slowly, spreading the bead of pre-cum over the head while he waited.
The door opened. Mike stepped in and locked it behind him this time, phone slipping into his back pocket. His eyes raked over Patrick’s naked body, lingering on the cock that twitched under the stare. Mike’s breathing was already heavier.
“You first,” Patrick said softly, stepping close enough that the head of his cock brushed the front of Mike’s work trousers. “On your knees. Keep the shirt on. I like how the hair looks peeking out.”
Mike’s cheeks burned but he did not argue. He sank down onto the bench, then slid to his knees on the cool tiles, green eyes looking up as Patrick stood over him. The contrast was perfect: smooth, sculpted body against the fully dressed handyman in his work gear. Mike’s rough hands settled on Patrick’s thighs, sliding up the hairless skin until they cupped his ass. Then he leaned in and took Patrick’s cock into his mouth in one slow, wet glide.
Patrick groaned low, one hand resting lightly on Mike’s short brown hair. “That’s it. Take it deeper.”
Mike did, lips stretching around the smooth shaft, tongue swirling under the head. He was not experienced at this angle but the hunger made up for it. He bobbed steadily, taking more each time until his nose pressed into the smooth skin at the base and Patrick’s balls rested against his chin. The sight of Mike still fully dressed in his polo and work trousers, hairy forearms flexing as he gripped Patrick’s ass, sent a fresh surge of heat through Patrick’s veins.
Patrick started to move his hips, gentle at first, then a little firmer, fucking into Mike’s mouth with controlled thrusts. Mike moaned around him, the vibration traveling straight down Patrick’s shaft. Saliva dripped from the corners of Mike’s lips, slicking everything. Patrick tightened his fingers in Mike’s hair, not forcing but guiding, face-fucking him in slow, deep strokes.
“Look at you,” Patrick murmured, voice rough. “Sucking me while you’re still in your work clothes. So fucking hot.”
Mike’s eyes watered but he did not pull away. Instead he sucked harder, one hand slipping between Patrick’s legs to roll his smooth balls gently. The other hand stayed on Patrick’s ass, fingers digging in like he needed something to hold on to. Patrick could feel the tension building fast, the wet heat of Mike’s mouth pushing him close already.
He pulled out suddenly, cock glistening, and tugged Mike to his feet. “Shower. Now. I want you naked this time.”
Mike stripped faster than yesterday, polo hitting the bench, trousers and boxer briefs following until he stood completely bare. His body was everything Patrick had imagined and more: thick muscle under a dense pelt of dark hair that covered his chest, stomach, and thighs. His cock stood heavy and leaking, the thick head flushed dark. Patrick pulled him under the hot spray, water cascading over them both, plastering Mike’s body hair flat against his skin.
They kissed hard under the water, tongues sliding, hands roaming. Patrick dropped to his knees again and swallowed Mike’s cock to the root, burying his face in the wet pubic hair while he sucked. Mike’s hands gripped the short blond hair on Patrick’s head, hips jerking forward in shallow thrusts. Patrick let him, opening his throat and taking every inch until Mike was groaning openly, the sound echoing off the tiles.
After a few minutes Patrick stood, spun Mike around, and pressed him chest-first against the shower wall. He spread those hairy cheeks wide and licked over the tight hole again, tongue pushing inside while one hand stroked Mike’s thick cock from behind. Mike was shaking, pushing back onto Patrick’s tongue, moans coming louder now.
“Patrick… fuck… that feels so good,” Mike gasped, voice breaking.
Patrick added a finger, slick with spit, sliding it in alongside his tongue. Mike tensed for a second, then relaxed, taking it deep with a shaky exhale. Patrick worked him open slowly, one finger becoming two, curling to find the spot that made Mike’s knees buckle and his cock leak steadily onto the tiles.
“I want to fuck you one day,” Patrick whispered against the wet, furry skin of Mike’s ass. “But not yet. Today I want to feel you like this.”
He stood, pressed his own cock between Mike’s thick, hairy thighs, and started thrusting. The slide was slick from water and pre-come, the friction perfect against the dense hair on the inside of Mike’s legs. Mike clamped his thighs tighter, pushing back to meet every thrust. Their bodies moved together, Patrick’s smooth chest against Mike’s broad, hairy back, arms wrapped around to stroke Mike’s cock in time with the thrusts between his thighs.
The heat built fast. Mike was moaning steadily now, no longer trying to stay quiet. Patrick bit gently at the furry back of his neck, hips snapping harder, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the shower.
“Come for me,” Patrick growled against his ear. “I want to feel it.”
Mike came with a deep, broken groan, semen shooting across the shower wall while his thighs clenched around Patrick’s cock. The tight, pulsing heat pushed Patrick over the edge seconds later. He thrust once more and came hard between Mike’s legs, painting the back of his thighs and the tiles with pulse after pulse of hot come.
They stayed pressed together under the spray, breathing hard, water washing everything away. Mike turned in Patrick’s arms and kissed him again, slower this time, almost tender. When they finally stepped out and dried off, Mike pulled his work gear back on with slightly shaky hands. The polo clung to his still-damp chest hair, and the sight made Patrick’s spent cock twitch again.
Mike paused at the door, green eyes meeting Patrick’s. He spoke out loud this time, voice low but steady.
“I’ve never let anyone do that before. The fingers… the thighs thing. It felt… really good. I’m still figuring shit out but… tomorrow I want even more.”
Patrick smiled, pulling on his own clothes. “Tomorrow I’ll give it to you. And you’re doing great, Mike. No pressure. Just us, right here.”
Mike nodded, a small, shy smile breaking through. He slipped out, and Patrick finished his workout in a warm haze, body satisfied but already craving the next day. When he left the gym at 8:05 the first regulars were arriving, but Mike was up on the ladder again, glancing over once with a look that promised the week was far from over.
Patrick checked SPARKR as he stepped into the morning air. One new message waited.
Can’t stop thinking about your cock between my thighs. Tomorrow I might beg for more. Don’t go easy on me.
... To be continued
If you enjoyed this story, consider supporting the author on Patreon.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
