A couple days had passed since that first night my gym trainer Brock fed me his load straight from the source. I joined the gym thinking I would finally drop the gut from too many desk beers and late takeout. Met Brock. The hunk trainer. Six three of solid muscle with thick veined arms and that constant five o’clock shadow. Deep voice that rumbled promises to shred me if I listened. Form corrections turned into something else that late night. Now it had become a ritual.
I rearranged my day around it without even noticing at first. Skipped dinner because I wanted my stomach empty. Moved work calls to make sure I finished early. Showered twice. Once after work. Once before heading over. Told myself it was just for hygiene. But I knew better. I could not stop tasting him. Jerked off twice thinking about it but never finished. The edge stayed. Pulled me back to the gym every time.
Tonight I showed up early again. Parking lot dark except for Brock’s black truck parked crooked in the handicap spot. Cock already stirring in my shorts from the drive over. Heart kicked up as I texted him. “Outside.” Door buzzed open almost immediately. Inside the gym was dim. Lights glowing along the floor. Mirrors catching faint blue from the exit signs. Brock was at the squat rack finishing a set. Tank soaked through. Shorts low on his hips. He racked the bar with a heavy clang. Wiped his face with the bottom of his shirt. Abs flashed for a second. Then he looked over.
“You’re early again.”
“Yeah man. Could not wait.”
He chuckled low. Walked over slow. Slapped my ass hard enough to sting through the fabric. Pulled me in close. Chest to chest. Heat rolled off him in waves.
“Eager tonight huh.”
I nodded. Swallowed thick. “Been thinking about it all day.”
He grinned. Hand stayed on my ass. Squeezed once. Firm. Possessive.
“I can tell. You look hungry.”
His other hand landed on my belly. Pressed flat. Fingers spread wide.
“Bloating’s down. You’re hardening up already.”
I laughed shaky. “Yeah. Skipped dinner today.”
“Good. Smart move.” He stepped back. Looked me up and down slow. Eyes lingering on the tent in my shorts. “Time to work for your protein shake. You need it after all the workouts you have been doing. Keeps the junk off. Builds real muscle.”
He flexed his abs. Let me see the ridges pop under the tank.
“Feel that.”
I reached out. Fingers traced the lines. Hard. Warm. Veins pulsing under skin. He watched my face the whole time.
“That is from clean fuel. Not pizza shit. Your shake comes straight from the source tonight. Hot. Thick. Full of gains.”
“Fuck bro. Sign me up.”
He laughed. Deep rumble that vibrated in my chest. “You already are.”
He led me to the mat in front of the big mirror wall. Stopped. Turned.
“Kneel.”
I dropped. Knees hit rubber. Face level with his crotch. Mirrors showed it all. My eager eyes. Flushed cheeks. Brock towering. Cock already thickening behind his shorts.
He set rules. Voice calm. Intentional. Like he had been thinking about this.
“You do not touch yourself unless I say. You do not cum unless I allow it. You earn the ritual.”
I nodded fast. Hole twitched empty. Cock throbbed hard against the compression fabric. Pre already wetting the pouch.
He made me strip slowly. Watched in the mirror.
“Shirt first.”
I peeled it off. Cool air hit skin. Nipples tightened instantly.
“Shorts.”
I tugged them down along with my underwear. Cock sprang free. Hard. Leaking. Pre stringing from the tip to my thigh.
Brock eyed me. Stepped closer. Hand on my shoulder. Heavy.
“Fuck Logi. Look at yourself.”
I glanced at the mirror. Flushed. Marked by want. Body changing already. Ass plumper but tighter from squats. Chest filling out a little. Abs starting to show under the last layer of softness.
“You are changing fast.” He squeezed my shoulder. “That is obedience. Throat is what we are training tonight.”
He dropped his shorts last. Cock sprang free. Heavy. Veiny. Already leaking. Head thick and purple. Balls full and low. Musk hit me hard. Salty. Raw. Male. My mouth watered instantly.
He stroked once. Slow. Pre beaded at the slit. Thick drop.
“Open for taste test first.”
I leaned in. Tongue flicked out. Lapped the pre. Salty. Bitter. Warm. Coated my tongue thick. Lingered heavy.
Brock groaned low. Fingers threaded into my hair.
“Good boy.”
He looked down. Voice rough. Dropping lower.
“Now kneel properly. Time to earn your shake.”
I adjusted on the mat. Knees wider. Back straight. Face lifted toward him. Mirrors caught the shift. My cock stood rigid between my thighs. Pre dripped slowly onto the rubber. Brock stepped closer. Cock level with my mouth. Head glistening. Veins thick under the skin.
He tapped the head against my lower lip once. Twice. Wet pre smeared.
“Open wide bro.”
I parted my lips. Tongue flicked out. Lapped the bead of pre. Salty. Thick. Bitter warmth spread across my tongue. I swirled slow. Traced the slit. Collected every drop. Brock groaned low. Fingers tightened in my hair. Not pulling yet. Just holding.
“That is it. Taste your fuel.”
I sucked the head in. Lips stretched around the flare. Warm. Heavy on my tongue. I sealed tight. Cheeks hollowed. Sucked gently at first. Then harder. Saliva pooled fast. Started dripping from the corners. I bobbed slowly. Taking more each time. Halfway down the shaft. Veins pulsed against my lips.
Brock’s breathing roughened.
“Deeper Logi. Work for it. Earn every fucking drop.”
I relaxed my throat. Took his cock further. Nose brushed pubes. Musk flooded my senses. Sweat. Man. Raw. Balls rested heavy against my chin. I held it there. Throat fluttering around him. Eyes watered. Spit ran down his shaft. Dripped onto my chest.
He hissed. Hips twitched forward once.
“Good boy. Look at yourself.”
I glanced at the mirror. Lips stretched wide. Chin wet. Throat bulging. Brock towering. Abs flexing with each controlled breath. I looked owned. Addicted. Wrecked already.
He started moving. Slow thrusts. Pulling out halfway. Sliding back in. Steady rhythm. Wet slurps filled the quiet gym. Every pull back left strings of spit hanging between us. Every push forward made my throat stretch.
“Fuck yeah. That is how you take your protein. Straight from the source. Hot. Thick. Full of gains.”
I moaned around him. Vibration rumbled up his shaft. He growled.
“You like that? Tastes better than any shake powder right?”
I nodded as best I could. Mumbled around the cock. “Mmmph yeah.”
He chuckled low. Thrusts picked up. Firmer now.
“Choke on it bro. Milk the load. You have been hungry for this all day.”
Gags came wet and messy. Throat tightened each time he pushed deep. Spit bubbled at the corners. Ran down my chin in thick strands. My cock bounced untouched. Pre pooled on the mat between my knees. I was close. So close. But his rule burned in my head. No cumming without permission. I whimpered.
He pulled out sudden. Cock wet and shining. Slapped it against my cheek. Once. Twice. Smearing spit and pre across my skin.
“Not yet. You do not cum till I say. This is about discipline.”
He pushed back in. Deeper. Faster. Facefucking now. Controlled but relentless. Balls tapped my chin. Gags constant. Wet choke sounds echoed off the mirrors.
“You are getting better. Learning fast. Throat trained for this.”
I hollowed my cheeks. Tongue pressed flat under the shaft. Swirled every vein. He growled louder.
“Suck harder. Make me nut. Earn your protein.”
Cock swelled thicker. Head flared against my tongue. Thrusts became erratic.
“Here it comes bro. Your protein shake. Don’t you dare waste a drop..”
He locked both hands on my head. Pulled me onto him hard. Buried deep. Cock pulsed once. Twice. Thick ropes hit the back of my throat. Hot. Salty. Bitter. Flooding my mouth fast. I swallowed greedily.
Gulp after gulp.
Some leaked out the corners. Dribbled down my chin. He kept shooting.
Glug
Glug
Pulse after pulse. Coating my tongue. Filling me up. I moaned around him. Swallowing everything. The taste lingered heavily. Owned every inch of my mouth.
Brock held me buried until empty. Cock still twitching. Then pulled out slowly. Shaft glistening with spit and cum. The final string connected my slutty lips to the head before it snapped. I coughed once. Gasped air. Face flushed. Chin wet. Eyes teary.
He looked down. Grinned cocky. Tugged his cock back into his shorts. Zipped casual. Like nothing happened.
“Good fucking boy.”
He reached down. Wiped a stray drop of cum from my chin with his thumb. Brought it to my lips. I opened without thinking. Sucked it clean. He chuckled low.
“This only works if you stay disciplined. Show up hungry everyday and I’ll reward you with my shake.”
He bent. Picked up his tank from the floor. Slung it over one shoulder. Turned toward the locker room.
“See you tomorrow. Same time.”
Door swung shut behind him. Soft click.
I stayed kneeling. Cum cooling on my chin. Taste thick on my tongue. Cock aching hard. Untouched. Throbbing against my shorts. Hole twitching empty. Mirrors showed me exactly what I was. Flushed. Spit-covered. Marked. Wanting.
I tried to stand. Legs shaky. Cock bobbed heavy between my thighs. Pre dripped steady onto the mat. I wanted to finish. Needed to. But his rule burned in my head. No cumming without permission. I whimpered low.
I reached for my clothes. Pulled on my underwear first. The fabric clung wet against my leaking cock. Then shorts. Hard length pressed tight. Outlined. Throbbing. Every step rubbed it. Made me hiss through my teeth.
I walked out slow. Gym door clicked shut behind me. Cool night air hit my skin. I sat in the car. Seat leather cold against my back. Cock still aching. Leaking into the pouch.
Phone buzzed in my pocket. Screen lit up. “Brock Trainer.”
I opened the message.
Yo Logi. Forgot to tell you. The crew will be working out at our time tomorrow. Gotta impress them. Be ready.
I stared at the words. Heart slammed against my ribs. Hole clenched empty, still slick from nothing but anticipation. Pre leaked more, soaking the pouch of my underwear, warm and sticky against my skin.
What did he mean by impress them?
The crew. His buddies. The other trainers who hung around after hours sometimes, all built like him, all cocky, all the type who slapped backs and talked shit about lifts and gains. I had seen them once or twice in passing. Zane with the sleeve tattoos. Colt with the buzz cut and perpetual smirk. They looked at me like I was the new kid on the block. Now Brock was bringing them in. At our time. Our ritual time.
Impress them.
Did he mean my form on squats? My deadlift numbers? Or did he mean something else? The way I knelt. The way I swallowed. The way I took his load like it was the only thing keeping me going.
My cock throbbed harder at the thought. Leaked again. I shifted in the seat. Fabric rubbed the head. Made me hiss.
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