I jogged up the cement stairs up to the gym entrance. I reached up for the door but I just couldn't bring myself to pull it open. I just froze. This gym and I had history; a very complex history. Five years had gone by since I last stepped through these doors.

That same feeling of regret that I felt when I agreed to meet my old trainer, Deon, surged through my body. I hadn't been around or involved in anything involving boxing for more than five years, since my last fight.

"Hey, you going in or what?"

I turned around and faced a pair of pre-teens toting gym bags and boxing gloves over their shoulders. A feeling of nostalgia crept in me and a silly grin formed on my lips. The two of them were a little older than I was when I step in a boxing ring for the first time.

The tall dark-skinned boy looked at me, annoyed. I quickly yanked opened the door and stepped aside so they could go inside. Now the door was open and all I had to do was step inside. I took a deep breath and walked through the door.

The familiar thickness in the air from a gym full of ambitious boxers training and conditioning pressed against my skin. Sounds of jump ropes smacking the ground, gloves connecting with punching bags and flesh, and trainers yelling to push the boxers harder filled the air. It was intoxicating. I fought the urge to slap on a pair of gloves and go an hour on the speed bags. I missed boxing, a lot and I didn't realize how much until now.

About two dozen or so boxers were working out throughout the gym. I scanned the room but I couldn't spot Deon. His being ghost wasn't a surprise. For the ten years Deon had trained me the main thing I learned about the man was that he was always late to everything except for a match.

I'd invited him to my birthdays, dinners with my family, my high school graduation and a long list of other events I thought were important but he was always late. The only redeeming quality in light of his persistent tardiness was that he always showed up, even if it was after the event was over. And I always waited for him, even if it was hours afterwards.

For my twenty-first birthday, all the guys at the gym had rented me a hotel room and hired strippers. I spent most of my time looking and waiting for Deon to show up. By three in the morning everyone had left, even the strippers. Then at five o'clock in the morning I heard a knock at the door. It was Deon.

For some reason I was never mad or angry at Deon for being late. If anything, I was always a little disappointed that he wasn't around. But whenever he did show up I was ecstatic. When he smiled at me I felt special. It was that same feeling of being special when everyone congratulates you for winning a title. But it was a special thing between him and I.

When I let Deon in the room the first thing I noticed was that he was empty handed. It wasn't that I wanted a gift but a simple card would have been nice. I thought he forgot it was my birthday. Before I could get upset, Deon walked up to me and held me in a way he never had before and told me he had a special gift for me. He led me to the bedroom and took me. It was the most amazing and sensual experience I had ever had.

But that was years ago. Deon and I were different men now and there was no point in lingering in the past. I walked through the gym and studied some of the boxer's form and technique. I wasn't impressed.

The boys sparring in the ring looked horrible. Their stance was all wrong and it looked like one didn't even know what punch to throw. A trainer was yelling for him to throw a cross but the kid was throwing a jab.

Once the boy took a seat in the corner he started arguing with the man that I thought was a trainer. It was actually his dad. That explained why the kid was poorly trained. Just about every other boxer in the gym looked just as bad or worse.

There was some raw talent but it would take months to get just a handful of them ready to compete in a tournament. They needed work. And with that realization, I knew exactly why Deon had called me out of the blue after five years.

I jumped at the heavy hand that came down on my shoulder.

"Whoa, calm down, Beast."

I turned towards the familiar deep, baritone voice. It was Deon with a huge grin on his face. We clasped hands and embraced each other in a brother-man hug.

His arm wrapped tightly around me. I felt like that inexperienced twenty-one year old under his touch. I took in a deep breath. He smelled the same. Reluctantly, I let him go and took in the sight of him.

Deon was just as handsome and confident looking as the last time I remembered seeing him. His skin was still taut over his ripped muscles. For thirty-six the man looked damn good. He could probably hope back in the ring as a light heavyweight if he wanted to. He'd obviously been taking care of his body.

"No one's called me Beast since I was in the ring." I said, smiling at the man that was my first love.

"I gave you that nickname." Deon said, raising his right eyebrow. "And I don't recall it having anything to do with your performance in the ring."

My dick jumped at the memory of the first time Deon called me Beast. It was the first time he let me inside of him. I looked at him, starry eyed.

"Well, they say that a boxer's performance and skill in the ring reflects his skill in the bedroom."

"Yea? Well, you're one hell of a boxer."

"Was," I corrected. Deon shook his head.

"No. Once a boxer, always a boxer."

Deon draped his arms over my shoulders. I thought I would faint. I hadn't felt Deon's heavy hands on my body in years. He was the first and only man that I let get that close to me. That I let stir so many emotions in me.

When we reached the office, Deon motioned me to sit down. I watch his firm, perky ass intently as he walked to his desk. If I didn't know any better I would have sworn his ass had gotten bigger. Maybe it was just the form fitting khakis. Either way, my dick liked the view.

"I'm pretty sure you have an idea on why I asked you come down."

I sat back in the chair and crossed my arms over my chests. This wasn't a personal call. He wanted to talk shop and I was more than willing to oblige. There was no way I was helping at the gym.

"Your gym is some shit, your short on trainers and you have parents working with the kids and fucking up their technique. You need help."

Deon nodded his head and leaned forward on his desk. Sunlight from the small window in the office made the grays in his salt-pepper hair shimmer. He looked beautiful.

"So are you going to help me?"

"You know I don't box anymore. I can't."

"I'm not asking you to box, Roman, I'm asking you to train and help run the gym."

"I'm sorry, I can't."

"Why not? These kids could use your help. You see how bad they look."

"Deon, I haven't seen or heard from you in almost five years and you hit me up with this shit. You know why I can't."

"What? Because you didn't get a title? You won the golden gloves three times in a row. That's no small feat in New York. You were the most sought after middleweight."

"Yea, and then I got knocked out in the fifth round and was unconscious for weeks."

"I remember. I was there. And its nothing to be ashamed of. I know you don't want to hear this but that knockout saved your life."

I shot up from the seat and went for the door. Deon was quicker. He rounded his desk and pressed against the door. The look in his eyes made my knees buckle.

"There is no telling how many months or years would have passed before that tumor in your head killed you. They found it early because you got knocked out."

I shook my head and covered my face with my hand. Deon was right but I didn't want to hear that shit. Yea, they found the tumor. But it ended my boxing career. And what kind of life did I have now? Wife divorced me and I couldn't hold a job. Deon took hold of the nape of my neck and pressed his forehead against mine.

"I need you, Roman. I need you." Deon whispered, over and over again.

I heard the words but they meant something different for me. The sound of his voice, his touch on my skin and his warm breath on my lips pulled at a deep longing that I hadn't felt in years.

I nudged forward and pressed my lips against his. Not knowing where his mind was, I pulled back slowly and studied his face, waiting for some affirmation that what I had done was okay.

Deon exhaled loudly and bit his bottom lip. I could see the internal struggle in his face. I pulled away from his grip and tried to get to the door again. He blocked my way.

"Wait, Roman."

"For what? We're done, right?"

Deon held my gaze, consoling me with his eyes. He took my head in both his hands and pulled me in and kissed me. His lips felt like fire against mine. I thought my knees would buckle when his tongue grazed against my bottom lip. He teased me with his mouth, not only licking but sucking my bottom lip. Deon was never one to rush. He took his time. And that was one of the reasons he had me hooked so many years ago.

His tongue slid smoothly in my mouth, exploring every inch and gently wrestling with my tongue. I ran my hands up his shirt and let my finger tips graze over his hard midsection. The six pack was gone but his muscles were still taut and firm.

My hands shot up to his firm flexing chest. The intense beating of his heart against my palm sent jolts though my body, I felt connected to Deon. I was sure he felt the same way. I even mused that he felt so hot to the touch because I was giving him fever.

Deon pushed me back against the wall, reached for the door and locked it. He looked at me with the same lust filled stare he had on his face when I fucked him for the first time. I knew exactly what he wanted.

I grabbed Deon by the waist and pushed him back until he bumped into the desk. Lust and longing flared in his eyes. I was sure he saw the same in mine. I reached behind him and pushed everything off his desk. He smiled and shook his head.

"Little fucker. You know you're going to clean that shit up, right?"

"Why you stressing the small shit?" I asked, teasingly. I pulled his hips into mind and grinded my hardening dick into his thigh. "And I don't know if you forgot, but there is nothing on me that's small."

I unzipped my pants and let them fall to the ground. With both my hands, I pushed down on Deon's shoulders and urged down to his knees. He was eyelevel with my crotch.

Deon planted both his hands on my thighs as he nibbled at my straining meat through the fabric of my underwear. His teasing was driving me crazy. I wanted his mouth wrapped around my dick badly. I placed my hand on the back of his neck and tilted his head up to face me.

"Go ahead and put it in your mouth. Stop playing."

Deon's brow wrinkled as he shook his head and smiled. He brought his hands up and pulled at my waistband, finally freeing my straining dick from it's prison of fabric.

I watched, mesmerized, as my dick disappear down Deon's throat. He took my dick deep in his mouth, tightening his lips around my pulsing pole. He was slow at first, paying close attention to the crown of my dick. Then he speed up, bopping up and down at a quick and steady rhythm.

My head tilted up to the ceiling. I clinched my eyes shut out of pure excitement. The wet warmth of Deon's mouth engulfing my shaft had my mind spinning. My balls tightened and drew up. I could feel my orgasm building exponentially each time Deon bottomed out on my shit.

I had to pulled him off my dick before I busted in his mouth. He stood back up and smiled.

"Too much?"

"Naw, not at all. Just not used to you going like that. You were more of the slow and steady type from what I remember."

"Have to keep up with you youngins. Had to up my skills."

"Hmm, I turn thirty next month. Not all that young anymore."

"No? Well, I'm sure the Beast is still alive and well."

I bit my bottom lip and grinned from ear to ear. "Maybe."

I grabbed Deon by his hip and lifted him up on the already cleared desk. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it over to the chair. I ran my fingers over his collar bone and down through the soft patch of hair in the middle of his chest. His body looked amazing. His nipples were still dark like a pair of Hershey kisses.

I leaned in and sucked on his nipples until I heard a soft, muffled moan echo in his throat. Encouraged, I bit at his chest, leaving little marks on his light, caramel complexioned skin, all while working his pants off.

Deon's thick pole flopped down on his stomach when I yanked his pants off. He wasn't wearing any underwear. I grabbed his meat in my hand and stroked it, hard. A large pearl of precum formed at the slit of his dick. I took the index finger of my free hand and scooped up the natural lubricant.

I looked up from his swollen meat and locked my eyes with his. He knew what was coming next. The look on his face screamed that he wanted it. So I gave it to him.

I smeared the precum over his hole and rubbed my finger over sphincter until I could feel the tension in his body relax. Then I pressed inside of him. Deon's body twisted and turned, a moan mixed with slight discomfort and familiar pleasure rolled over his lips.

His dick jumped him my hand as I jutted my finger in and out of his tight, hot hole. I could feel his warm inside flex and caress my finger. I could tell he was getting used to the invader, so I added a second finger. He yelped and grabbed my forearm.

With his eyes, Deon told me to go slow and I had no problem obliging. I kept pumping his dick until it was wet with his precum. Still pressing my two fingers inside him, I leaned down and ran my tongue over the engorged crown of his dick. I felt his ass muscles clench around my fingers and I saw how his body tensed.

Deon let out a heavy breath, reached down and pushed both of my hands away. He leaned back on the desk and thrust his large, muscular legs in the air. Deon's puckered rosebud was fully exposed. My mouth was wet. He brought his head up and looked at me.

"Fuck me. I want you to fuck me."

"I will," I assured him. "I want to taste you first."

Deon smiled and laid his head back down on the desk. I moved in on his ass. First, I nibbled on that small piece of flesh between his balls and hole. Then I dragged my tongue down and over to his ass cheek.

"Stop playing with me, Roman."

I chuckled a little and moved to his hole. I pressed my tongue against the lips of his ass and easily slid inside. My fingers had down their job and worked him open already. I darted my tongue in and out Deon's fuck chute, his soft whimpering driving me to push in him deeper and harder.

"Yes, work that ass, boy." Deon said, moaning. "Make this ass yours, shit, just like that."

Enough was enough. I stood up and grabbed my dick at the base. I placed my free hand on Deon's stomach as I smacked my meat against his ass cheeks. His body tensed up in anticipation.

Veins bulged and pulsated in my dick as I lined the head up with Deon's hole. He flinched and placed his hands on my thighs. I brushed his hands away and pressed inside of his ass. The head went in easily. His ass gripped at my dick with every inch I slid inside him until my balls nestled up against his ass.

I watched Deon's face wrestle with discomfort and sexual euphoria. He clenched at the edge of the desk with one hand and pulled at his nipple with the other. Watching him get used to my dick inside of him was the most arousing and erotic thing I had seen in a long time.

Slowly, I pulled half the length of my pole out before pushing it all the way back in. Over and over I half dicked his ass until I knew he could take some pounding.

"Fuck! You feel good, Roman."

Deon's hand slipped from the desk to my side, push and pulling me into him faster and harder. I grabbed his hip with my right hand and reached up for his throat with my left. His body went rigid as I pulled out, leaving only the head of my pole in and plunged the full length back inside. Small screams struggled from his squeezed as I started plowed his ass hard but with slow determination. I wanted him to feel every thick, pulsing inch of me.

"Fuck me, Roman, just fuck me." He said, his words little more than whispers caught between moans of pleasure. His hips bucked up meeting my deep, hard thrusts. Deon pulled his legs up against his chest, giving me a perfect angle to destroy his ass.

In a fury of lust, I grabbed Deon by the wrists and placed his behind my neck.

"Hold on."

Deon nodded, fear in his eyes, as I picked him up from the desk by the waist. I squatted slightly with him in my arms. I lifted him up, off the length of my dick and all of his weight down on my meat as I thrust up. It sounded like a train had collided. Deon's legs shook against my sides.

I did it over and over again, the sound of wet flesh filling the room. Deon clinged on to my neck, fighting to hold on and take all the dick I was forcing in his tight ass. The smell of sweat, ass and sex filled the room. The two of us had become little more than a mangle mess of horny flesh.

I growled against his chest and plunged the length of my pole deep inside of Deon's tender hold. Shot after shot of my nutt lined his inside. I could feel my seed dripping from his used hole down on my balls.

His body still quivering, Deon eased my dick from his hole and placed his feet on the ground. I wished he would have let me stay inside of him until I went soft...if I went soft.

He looked at me shaking his head and grinning. I know what he was thinking. I was thinking the same thing. Deon walked over to the metal cabinet in the corner of the office and pulled out a towel and some wet napkins.

"Here, we need to get dressed. There's someone I want you to meet."

"Oh, so you think you're going to get me to train your boys by throwing me some ass?"

"Think? Naw, I know. This ass is priceless."

I chuckled. "Come on, Deon. You aint even tell me how much it pays."

"We'll discuss that later, right now I got a kid I want you to meet."

"Kid?" I asked.

"Yea, his name's Quinton, he'll be twenty-one next week. He's a hot head, just like you were."

"Quinton, hunh."

"Yea, I figured you could take him under your wings like I did you."

"Hmm, we see how that turned out."

We both laughed as we got dressed. I still wasn't sure about getting involved with boxing again but I was anxious to meet this Quinton kid. Maybe he'd have enough raw talent to justify my time.



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