Mark slammed his locker shut and wiped sweat from his forehead. The gym was dead quiet at this hour, just the hum of fluorescent lights and the faint smell of chlorine from the pool next door. He peeled off his soaked tank top, then his shorts, standing there naked while he grabbed his towel. His cock hung heavy, half-hard from the pump of his workout and the heat in the room.
The door creaked open. Another guy walked in—tall, broad shoulders, dark hair matted to his neck. He nodded once, stripped without a word, and headed for the showers. Mark watched the way his ass flexed with each step, round and firm. No one else was around. Mark followed.
Hot water pounded down. The guy stood under the spray, soaping his chest, then lower, hand wrapping around his thick cock and stroking slow. Mark stepped under the next showerhead, dick already stiffening as he soaped up. Their eyes met. No smiles, just heat.
“Need a hand with that?” the guy asked, voice low and rough.
Mark didn’t answer with words. He stepped closer, grabbed the guy’s cock, and pumped it hard.
It thickened fast in his fist, veined and leaking. The guy reached for Mark’s shaft, thumb sliding over the head, spreading pre-cum. They stroked each other under the spray, water sluicing over their bodies, hands moving faster.
Mark dropped to his knees on the wet tile. He took the cock into his mouth, sucking deep, tongue pressing the underside. The guy groaned and thrust, hands gripping Mark’s hair. Mark swallowed more, gagging lightly but pushing until his nose hit trimmed pubes. Spit ran down his chin and mixed with the shower water.
“Fuck, yeah. Suck it,” the guy growled. He pulled out, spun Mark around, and shoved him against the wall. Soapy fingers pushed between Mark’s cheeks, finding his hole and working one inside, then two, stretching him open with quick, rough thrusts.
Mark pushed back on the fingers. “Do it. Fuck me.”
The guy lined up and drove in. One long thrust buried his cock to the balls. Mark grunted, hole clenching around the thick shaft. They fucked standing up, water beating on their backs, the guy’s hips slapping loud against Mark’s ass. Every stroke went deep, cock dragging over Mark’s prostate until his own dick throbbed untouched.
They switched. Mark bent the guy over the bench outside the showers, spit on his hole, and pushed inside. Tight heat gripped him. He pounded hard, balls swinging, one hand reaching around to jerk the guy’s cock in time with his thrusts. Sweat and water mixed on their skin.
The guy came first, shooting thick ropes across the bench while Mark kept fucking him through it. Mark pulled out, stood over him, and stroked fast until he painted the guy’s back and ass with heavy spurts. They stayed like that a minute, breathing hard.
Later, dressed and heading out, the guy handed Mark a folded piece of paper with a username scrawled on it. “Nifty archive. Search my handle. Plenty more where that came from.”
Mark pocketed it, already half-hard again thinking about round two.
