The Gym Trainer

It's been a while since I've written anything, but I'm back with some good stories for you all! As always, leave a comment below or email me if you liked the story, or have any feedback! Follow me on twitter @QuesadillaNFrys for previews and depictions of my stories! If you have a story idea you'd like me to write, check my profile for instructions and email me at [email protected]!

Thank you, and enjoy!

---

I packed up my briefcase, worn out from overuse, and grabbed my gym bag. It was late, well past bedtime for most, but I was headed down to the gym on the bottom floor of our firm's building. My legal career took up the bulk of my time, but even so, I managed to maintain a well-sculpted body. The hours were long and our days didn't give much time for anything besides work, and even then, I spent even more time at the office than half the senior partners. At 25, I'd made partner very quickly, which I consider a personal testament to my work ethic, and I generated some of the highest billable hours at the firm. There practically wasn't a moment where I wasn't either asleep or in the office, occasionally at the same time. Still, working at one of the most prestigious law firms in the country had its perks; among them, our firm maintained a state-of-the-art gym. Working out was perhaps the only real pastime I had beyond work.

My assistant could tell the stress of my job was starting to get to me; even I didn't notice until she pointed out that I'd spent the past week sleeping on my tiny office couch. She insisted I take some time off in the evenings for myself, and despite my pushback, she scheduled me an appointment with one of the new gym trainers. She knew working out was one of the few pastimes I'd allowed myself, and she figured that would be the easiest way to get me to relax. Working out certainly did help me deal with stress, and she figured it wouldn't be a bad idea to have someone keeping an eye on me to make sure I actually did it.

I headed down to the gym. It was practically empty, most of the facility cleared out for the evening as others spent their evenings at home, eating, sleeping, or whatever else they did outside the office. I checked in with the receptionist. "Your trainer will be right over," he said cheerfully. A few moments later, a young, muscular man, who looked about 21 or 22 years old, came over to greet me. Immediately, my attention turned to him, his ripped body and handsome face drawing my focus.

"You're Drew?" He greeted me. "I'm Jay! Nice to meet you." I stared at Jay for a moment, mesmerized by his appearance. I couldn't explain it, but something about this guy captured my attention in a way I hadn't thought possible, even with women. His face, the lower half covered in stubble, had a youthful yet rugged charm that hinted at a life less bound by the constraints of a legal brief. His eyes, a shade of blue that seemed to dance with an inner fire, held a warmth that seemed to draw me in. His tanned body, though covered in a loose-fitting tank top, emanated a sculpted strength that was impossible to ignore. His tan skin suggested he spent a lot of time outdoors. There was an unspoken confidence in his every move, a silent assurance that life outside the courtroom or office held its own set of victories.

I found myself momentarily lost in the contrast between the meticulously organized chaos of my legal world and the untamed allure emanating from Jay, but I managed to regain my composure before he noticed. "Yeah, I'm Drew," I finally managed to say, my voice almost betraying a hint of surprise. "Nice to meet you, Jay."

Jay flashed a friendly grin, a glimmer of genuine enthusiasm in his eyes. He put out his hand, and I shook it briefly. He definitely had a strong grip. "Likewise, Drew! I heard you're here for a bit of a stress buster, huh?"

A bemused smile played on my lips. "Yeah, something like that. My assistant thought I could use a break, so here I am. Insisted, actually. She can be incredibly persuasive when she wants to be. Sometimes, I wonder why she didn't just become a lawyer, she'd have more billable hours than half the partners."

Jay chuckled, his laughter echoing in the cavernous space of the gym. Before diving into the workout, Jay directed me toward the small gym's locker rooms to change into my workout gear. "Get comfortable, and we'll get started," he said.

I ducked into the locker room, leaving the minimal gym buzz behind for an even more vacant locker room. Rows of lockers stared at me; the air in there smelled like it got a daily dose of cleaning spray; no doubt they'd want to keep an upscale gym like this clean and fresh, especially in the locker room. I wasted no time ditching the suit for some comfy workout gear. I stripped out of my suit, but only then did I notice the large bulge in my underwear; not yet full, but definitely growing. It stretched the fabric around it, the shape clearly visible and pointing upwards. Panic mode began to set in, but I calmed myself down with some less provocative thoughts. Thankfully it started to go down, but I had no idea how I'd control it for the next hour. I took a deep breath, willing my body to cooperate as I hastily changed into my workout clothes. My gym attire, a pair of gym shorts and a tank top, felt more forgiving, less constricting than the tailored suit that had accompanied me through a day filled with legal work. I glanced at myself in the locker room mirror, a silent reminder that, for the next hour, my focus should be on reducing stress, not adding more.

As I exited the locker room, rejoining the gym's slightly-less empty workout area, Jay was waiting, and flashed a welcoming grin as I approached. "Ready to get started?" he asked, gesturing towards the array of equipment that lined the walls.

"Absolutely," I replied, doing my best to project an air of composure. The panic from the locker room still lingered, a reminder that my body had its own agenda. I tried to push the distracting thoughts aside, instead focusing on the workout we were about to start.

"We're going to start with some basic stretching," Jay said, as he guided me to a nearby mat. I followed Jay's lead to the mat, determined to shift my mind's focus to the workout ahead. The minimal gym buzz enveloped us once again as we settled into the stretching routine. Jay's instructions were clear, his movements fluid, and soon, the panic that had gripped me moments ago began to fade. As it turns out, working out wasn't just a good distraction from work, it was a good distraction from the trainer, too.

As the workout progressed, the initial awkwardness faded, replaced by a sense of camaraderie with Jay, which seemed to help. The stress from work was replaced by the rhythmic flow of exercise, and with each movement, the mental weight seemed to lift. Jay's friendly banter accompanied the workout, a testament to his ability to seamlessly blend encouragement with instruction. "You're doing great, Drew. Remember, this is your time," he remarked, and for the first time in a while, I allowed myself to believe it.

Jay and I got to know each other a little better, too. I learned he was 22 years old, and that, similar to me, he had a passion for fitness that went beyond just the routines he prescribed. We bonded over our shared enthusiasm for fitness, and it wasn't just about the routine workout grind – we both got a kick out of breaking a sweat and feeling the burn. Recently out of college, he didn't quite know what he wanted to do with his life yet, but took this job because it was something he'd enjoy doing while he figured it out. "It's probably not something I want to do forever, but I figured, if it pays the bills and I enjoy doing it, why not do it for a few years?" Even so, he seemed to put just as much effort into his work as I did in mine. I couldn't help but compare both how similar and how different we are; our personalities meshed, but our outlooks in life were totally different: I knew exactly where I wanted my life to go, while he was still figuring it out. And yet, it felt like sometimes I had no idea where it was going, and Jay just let it go with the flow.

The workout felt like it flew by quickly, and before I knew it, we were nearing the end. "We're gonna do one last exercise, a few reps on the bench press. Lay down, and I'll spot you," Jay said. I did as he instructed, positioning myself on the bench, the cool metal against my back. Jay hovered above, his presence reassuring as he adjusted the weights on the bar, standing right over my head.

"Alright, Drew, let's finish strong," he encouraged, his voice cutting through the hum of the gym. With a nod, I gripped the bar, the cold steel contrasting with the warmth of my palms. The rhythmic clinks of the weights being secured resonated in the air, a prelude to the final challenge of our workout. Jay's hands rested on the bar, ready to provide support as I embarked on the last set.

I closed my eyes to improve my focus. As I began the controlled descent, the weight pressing down towards my chest, I felt a surge of determination. The bench press, the culmination of our session, demanded both physical strength and mental focus. The hum of the gym faded into the background, and all that remained was the steady rhythm of the exercise. I pushed the bar up, and then started to lower it again. I repeated this for a few more reps, until I felt comfortable opening my eyes. Jay's shorts hung over my head. It seemed like he wasn't wearing any underwear for some reason, but I paid that thought little attention as I completed another rep.

Suddenly, Jay's stance shifted, and the opening of his shorts covered part of my face. I could see cock. He definitely wasn't wearing any underwear. The slab of meat hung over my face, apparently soft, but still surprisingly big. I wasn't sure if he'd realized I could see it, but my own cock was starting to get hard. Just like that, everything I'd tried to put out of my mind at the start came flooding back. My thickening shaft began to strain in my shorts, as the distraction drew my attention away from the exercise. "You've got this, Drew. Push through!" Jay's encouragement spurred me on, his presence a steady anchor. With each repetition, I could feel the burn in my muscles, a testament to the intensity of the workout. With Jay's vocal support, I managed to complete the final rep, and we replaced the bar back onto the rack. He stepped back, and I sat up, panting, attempting to conceal my boner with my legs. I don't think he noticed my situation, and I was more than happy to keep it that way.

"Great job, Drew. That's how you finish strong," Jay commended, a shared sense of achievement settling between us. "Go get changed, and then we can figure out if this is a good time for a weekly training session," he added. I nodded, and quickly made my way to the locker room.

My dick was practically sticking out of my shorts, the erection having come back with a vengeance, and this time, I knew I wouldn't be able to get it to go down as easily. I stripped off my clothes and made my way to the showers, turning the water on and leaning against the wall. I started stroking my fat cock, thoughts of Jay's cock still filling my mind. I thought about his ripped body, his handsome face, and the facial stubble that for some reason turned me on. In only a few strokes, I shot a load like no other. "Arggghhhhhhh...Fuuuuuuuck!" I grunted as my jizz shot out. It flew through the air, mixing with the water as it hit the floor and began slowly circling the drain. I collapsed onto the bench to catch my breath, as cum still dribbled out of my dick. “What the fuck is going on with me?” I thought to myself. “How am I jerking off to a guy I just met, shooting loads out like water cannons?” I figured I just needed to get my head on right, and a good night’s sleep would take care of it. In a week, I wouldn’t even remember this.

I cleaned myself off in the shower, the warm water washing away the remnants of sweat and jizz coating me from this evening’s activities. The steady patter of water against the tile was surprisingly soothing. As I dried off and changed into some casual clothes, a sense of rejuvenation settled in, a subtle reminder that the gym had provided not only a physical workout but also a mental reset.

Making another appointment with Jay for next week, at the same time, felt like a commitment to maintaining this newfound balance. I was sure that next week, things would be "normal" again. The thought offered a semblance of comfort, although I was strangely far more excited for it than I cared to admit.

***

The following week felt like it flew by, and I was practically on autopilot the whole time. My next training session with Jay came around, and I was already hard just thinking about it. I headed down to the gym a few minutes early and checked in with the receptionist. I used the extra time my early arrival gave me to use the locker room. As with last week, there was nobody in here. I stripped down, staring at my body in the mirror. My huge bulge was throbbing, already leaking precum through my underwear. Fuck, they were soaked! Luckily I kept a spare in my gym bag. I headed to the showers. I figured from last week, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to start my workout with the risk of popping a boner, so I’d come down early to take care of it in the shower. I sat on the bench, water spraying on my body, as I rubbed one out. This time, I focused my thoughts on my ex-girlfriend’s body. It worked; I fired my load and cleaned myself off as soon as I came down from it. After drying off, I changed into my workout clothes; a tight-fitting tank top and gym shorts. This time, I tucked my dick into my underwear in a way that wouldn’t put it on display so much if the worst should happen. A sense of relief washing over me as I focused on the routine that awaited.

Exiting the locker room, I stepped into the familiar hum of the gym, the weights clinking, and the steady thud of treadmills in motion. Jay, already on the gym floor, noticed my arrival and flashed a welcoming grin. He was wearing an old tank top, with a low-cut neckline and sides that were practically non-existent, the shirt itself not even wide enough to cover his whole chest; it showed off his big, tanned pecs through all three openings, leaving no doubt about his capabilities as a trainer.

"Hey, Drew! Ready for another round?" Jay called out, his enthusiasm contagious.

"Yeah, let's do it," I replied, pushing aside the private prelude to focus on the workout ahead. The gym, with its rhythmic pulse, seemed to offer a sanctuary—a brief escape from the tumultuous currents of my personal thoughts.

The routine — an appropriate descriptor if I ever heard one — was much the same as last week. As Jay guided me through the warm-up, the earlier tension dissipated, replaced by a shared focus on the physical exertion at hand. The camaraderie from the previous week lingered, and the gym became a space where worries, at least temporarily, could be set aside.

The workout progressed smoothly, the weights a familiar challenge, and Jay's encouragement kept me at a steady pace. Throughout the session, Jay's coaching took on a personal touch. "Focus on me, Drew. You've got this!" he cheered, as I pushed myself. I felt free of distractions, my mind able to concentrate on improving my body.

Finally, we ended again with a bench press. I laid down, the cool metal against my back providing a sharp contrast to the warmth of exertion. Jay, leaning over, adjusted the weights on the bar with a precision born of familiarity.

As Jay took his position above me, however, his perfect pecs stared down at me, like two eyes pleading with me. Like last time, I closed my eyes. "Last set, Drew. Make it count," he urged, his voice a steady cadence in the rhythmic pulse of the gym. The weights descended, and with each controlled lift, I felt a surge of determination. Jay's voice, a constant guide, provided a rhythm to the repetition. "Up and down, Drew. Keep it steady," he coached, his words merging with the ambient sounds of clinking weights and the distant hum of cardio machines.

I completed the final rep, panting as we put the bar back into place. “Nice, dude. You did fantastic," Jay complimented, his hand landing on my shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie. “Go hit the locker room, then we can see if you wanna schedule a regular standing training session.” He headed over to the front desk and disappeared behind a door. I started to get up, but then I noticed it — a massive boner, tenting up in my shorts. How long had that been there? Did Jay see it? It seemed impossible to miss, but then again, I had until just now. I rushed to the locker room, eager to keep anyone else from seeing it.

I barely had time to strip out of my clothes before almost literally jumping into the shower. Thankfully, there was nobody in the locker room at this late an hour. I sat in there a few minutes, not really doing anything, just trying to process today’s workout session and let the water wash over my well-worked muscles, soothing them. Moments later, I heard the door open.

Panic began to set in; the gym was practically empty. Was that Jay? I heard the footsteps move closer. They stopped for a minute, I could hear the rustling of clothes being shed. The figure stopped near the showers, and my anxiety peaked. Then, a familiar voice broke the silence, "Hey, Drew, you in there?"

It was Jay.

Anxiety washed over me, and I let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, Jay, just finishing up." I stood up and grabbed the soap, beginning to lather my abs. He stepped into the shower area, wearing just a towel around his waist. Somehow, it accentuated his pecs and abs, which were beginning to glisten with the spray of water.

As Jay began to undo his towel, his grin was infectious. "Mind if I join you? You were my last client of the day, I need to wash off the gym sweat from my shift," he said, his tone easygoing.

"Sure, go ahead," I replied, though my heart raced a bit at the unexpected intrusion. We exchanged a friendly smile, the kind of polite gesture you make in a locker room shower, but somehow it felt a little more close.

When he removed his towel and hung it on the rack, I felt like my heart skipped a beat. Here he was, completely naked, his big-yet-still-soft cock swinging in the air beneath him. It complemented his muscles well, and I watched as water dripped off of it. My cock, as if it wasn’t already hard enough, jumped and throbbed as I observed his naked body, leaking precum in the process.

As Jay stepped under the adjacent shower head, we engaged in casual banter, a surprising ease settling between us. The water continued to cascade from the showerhead, creating a soothing background noise. It was a moment of vulnerability, sharing a space typically reserved for privacy, yet it felt strangely comfortable.

"Another killer session, huh?" Jay remarked, his easygoing demeanor putting me at ease. I nodded, offering a half-smile in agreement.

"Yeah, your workouts are no joke," I replied, lathering my pecs. I tried to keep my frontside turned away from him. If he’d noticed my erection, he hadn’t said anything. Still, it throbbed out in front of me, begging for the release I couldn’t give it right now.

Jay chuckled, seemingly oblivious to my internal struggle. "Glad you think so. Gotta keep you on your toes, right?" His words, spoken with a playful undertone, carried a lighthearted coversation. I felt a mixture of relief and anxiety, unsure if he was genuinely unaware or just respecting the unspoken privacy of the moment. The water's rhythmic cadence continued, a comforting backdrop to our shared moment of post-workout banter. Jay's laughter and the sounds of our conversation echoed in the confined space, creating an odd sense of intimacy in a setting where vulnerability and privacy intersected.

But finally, he brought up the raging boner in the room. “Dude, are you gonna take care of that?” He asked, glancing down at the enormous, throbbing, 8-inch hard-on sticking out in front of me. My face turned the brightest shade of red. unable to respond, I just stammered incoherently.

“I—uh…oh, no…” Jay cut me off.

“Drew, it’s alright. It happens. We’re both naked, in a public shower, and there’s no one else here. I work late and usually there’s nobody in the locker room when my shift ends; sometimes I gotta rub one out after work, too. I mean, do you know how hot and sweaty I can get after a long shift of basically doing nothing but exercise all day?” That last part made my dick throb again.

“And dude, some of those ladies I train, and the gym clothes they wear…man, I’d be shocked if there isn’t a guy who doesn’t have to take care of things after a workout. Seriously, it’s cool, just pretend I’m not here.”

Submitting to my base desires, and feeling permission to do so, I began slowly lathering my thick cock up. I let out a moan as a rope of precum shot out. Fuck. Not only was Jay here, I was jacking off with him right next to me. Yet somehow, my cock kept me from cumming just yet, perhaps wanting me to enjoy the moment. “Ohhhhh, shit…” I moaned, squeezing and stroking my cock like a madman.

I glanced at Jay. He tried not to seem like it, but he was stealing a few glances at me, and I could see his already-big cock starting grow. Holy shit! That turned me on even more, and I put that energy back into my dick. As his own shaft quickly reached its full, stunning 10 inches, Jay started grabbing at it, leaning against the shower wall. Fuck, I was finally getting to see this stud in all his glory!

"Man, fuck, I've needed this..." Jay said.

"Y-yeah, me too," I admitted, my breath coming faster as the sensations built.

Jay's strokes became quicker, and he seemed to be struggling not to moan, too. Fuck, the sight of him, his big cock and ripped abs and his perfectly-shaped ass was enough to drive me insane. Before I knew it, I was right on the edge, and so was he.

"Fuuuuck, I'm gonna shoot!" I groaned, my voice reverberating in the shower.

"M-me too," He managed to reply.

I shot first. my cock erupted, ropes of jizz flying through the air and hitting the ground, mixing with the water from the shower and eventually disappearing down the drain. "Goddamn...FUCKKKK!" I moaned, and the biggest load I've ever shot flew from my cock. Seeing me cum must have triggered his own orgasm, because he let it fly moments later. "Aaaaaagh, fuuuuuuck yeah!" he grunted, and a huge load erupted from his cock. His spunk was a thick, white liquid that, despite the shower water, somehow looked as if it would be sticky to the touch. It mixed with the water and disappeared down the drain as well.

"Fuck..." he cursed. "I've never done THAT before..." he leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.

"Neither have I," I panted, sitting on the bench.

I quickly finished cleaning myself off and went to the locker room to change. A sense of dread began to envelop me. What the fuck did I just do? I just jerked off with a guy in the locker room shower, and I had no idea how to feel about it. On the one hand, he was the most attractive guy I've ever seen, and I've never cum as hard as I did then. On the other hand, I know I'm still into ladies. I got dressed and rushed out of there, not waiting to schedule another training session.