This story is 100% fiction.
If there was one thing I really hated, it was Mondays. Traffic was slow; subways were packed, and worst of all, the weekend was over. My name is Andrew Carr, I’m 24 years old, and studying kinesiology at university. I wasn’t the most organized guy, but I managed. At 8:30 AM, my alarm went off, I rolled out of bed, and I walked the short distance from my bed to my small apartment bathroom.
The cold air on my skin made me shiver. I turned on the shower and watched the room fill with steam. The hot, moist vapor soothed my goose bumps, and I let my boxers fall to the floor. I tried to take a piss, but my morning wood had yet to subside. The steam from the shower had started to cloud my bathroom mirror. Nevertheless, I could still make out my reflection. Brown hair, blue eyes, an athletic build, and a slight treasure trail – at the end of which was my 9” cock, still hard with morning wood. My erection subsided, and I took a long awaited piss, then hopped in the shower.
I was going to be late for sure. While my apartment was only 10 minutes from campus, traffic was always worse on a Monday. I missed the subway, and ended up jogging the rest of the way carrying my backpack and gym bag. Today was not a good day to be late. I had a motion lab at 9:00 AM. In kinesiology, labs were more like gym class: lifting weights, running, measuring muscles, and so on – it was fun. Students got in groups of two, and completed the assigned lab work together.
With two blocks left to run until I reached campus, I glanced down at my watch: 8:59 AM – exactly. I sprinted the remaining distance, wrenched open the locker room door, and bolted through it. The change room was a long hall lined with metal lockers. In the middle of the room were benches, and off to the sides were nooks, offering some privacy in an otherwise open room.
As class had already started, the locker room was deserted. I stripped off my clothes in the middle of the hall, enjoying the fact that I had the room to myself. I pulled of my shirt, jeans, and socks, and removed my briefs, still sweaty from my sprinting. I upturned the gym bag at my feet, only to discover a sea of gym clothes – none of which belonged to me. Clearly I’d just dumped the contents of someone else’s bag. Frustrated, I located my gym bag, and started to change.
Just then, I heard a sink turn on, and then footsteps. Apparently the locker room wasn’t deserted, after all. From the showers came a blond haired toned figure, wearing nothing but a towel.
“You running late too?”
“Ya, I missed my train”, I answered him.
The guy introduced himself as Ryan, and continued walking towards me – apparently it was his gym bag that I’d upturned. The guy was hot, to say the least. I looked down at the mess clothes at my feet – a mixture of my discarded clothes and the contents of Ryan’s bag.
“Sorry, I’ve been meaning to do laundry...”, Ryan said, gesturing to the mess of gym clothes on the floor – there was several days worth there.
We kept talking as I collected my share of the clothes and he changed. I shoved my jeans, socks, and shirt into my bag, locked my locker, and started to leave.
“Wait, you forgot these!”
I turned around to see Ryan holding my sweaty underwear. They were white Calvin Klein’s with a red waistband; Ryan was grinning.
“Fuck, I just locked all my stuff away in my locker.”
“Don’t worry about it, man”, said Ryan, as he added my sweaty Calvin’s to his locker. “I’ll put them in my locker, you can get them after.”
“Oh, right. Thanks man.”, I managed, and left the change room alongside Ryan.
My usual partner, Nick, was off in the other side of the gym, already working with another partner, and so Ryan suggested we work together. We took turns lifting weights, and recording each other’s heart rates after each set. Next, we did sit ups, and measured various muscles with tape measures. Then it happened.
Ryan was wrapping a tape measure around my thigh when I started to get hard. I could feel his hand pressed up against my cock, and soon I couldn’t tell if he was measuring my thigh or the contour of my hard-on.
Ryan suggested we go to the supply closet and fetch heavier dumbbells for the next set. I agreed – anything to avoid the awkward situation of Ryan satring at my hard-on – and so we set off together.
In the storage room, Ryan asked ,“How big is it?”
He must be talking about the assignment, and muscle size, I thought. It had to be that.
“I dunno, never measured. You better check.”, I said. He had to talking about the work. Not my hard-on – he was referring to the work, I told myself.
Ryan grinned, picked up the measure ribbon, and got on his knees. I put my leg forward, expecting him to continue recording data on the sheet. Instead, Ryan grabbed hold of the waistband of my gym shorts, and pulled.
My initial reaction was sheer shock: “Dude, what the fuck?!” Ryan, however, just grinned.
“I like the other ones better”, he said sportingly, pointing at the pair of black Calvin Klein briefs I had on for the workout. “These’ll have to go.”
Before I could protest, I was naked from the waist down. Ryan measured my cock – I let him. At the back of the storage closet were large mats, used for high jump and gymnastics. Before I knew it, Ryan and I were laying on the matts; they were coarse, but filled with foam, and strangely comfortable.
All of my earlier apprehension had evaporated. As Ryan had explored my body earlier, I explored his. Ryan took of his shirt and gym shorts, and laid on the matt next to me in his jockstrap. He was muscly, and had a great ass. Perfectly shaped washboard abs, and strong shoulders. I felt Ryan's bare ass, and the bulge of his jockstrap. Then, Ryan started to jack me off, and I reached to take off his jock. Just then, however, the door opened. The lab was over, and people were lining up to put away equipment. Fuck. Lucky for us, the matts were located behind a row of crowded shelving units, hiding us from immediate view. Ryan and I quickly and silently dressed, and left the storage closet with none the wiser. Ryan gave me his number – after all, we had homework to finish, and he still had my Calvin’s in his locker. This was just the beginning.
Chapter 1
If there was one thing I really hated, it was Mondays. Traffic was slow; subways were packed, and worst of all, the weekend was over. My name is Andrew Carr, I’m 24 years old, and studying kinesiology at university. I wasn’t the most organized guy, but I managed. At 8:30 AM, my alarm went off, I rolled out of bed, and I walked the short distance from my bed to my small apartment bathroom.
The cold air on my skin made me shiver. I turned on the shower and watched the room fill with steam. The hot, moist vapor soothed my goose bumps, and I let my boxers fall to the floor. I tried to take a piss, but my morning wood had yet to subside. The steam from the shower had started to cloud my bathroom mirror. Nevertheless, I could still make out my reflection. Brown hair, blue eyes, an athletic build, and a slight treasure trail – at the end of which was my 9” cock, still hard with morning wood. My erection subsided, and I took a long awaited piss, then hopped in the shower.
I was going to be late for sure. While my apartment was only 10 minutes from campus, traffic was always worse on a Monday. I missed the subway, and ended up jogging the rest of the way carrying my backpack and gym bag. Today was not a good day to be late. I had a motion lab at 9:00 AM. In kinesiology, labs were more like gym class: lifting weights, running, measuring muscles, and so on – it was fun. Students got in groups of two, and completed the assigned lab work together.
With two blocks left to run until I reached campus, I glanced down at my watch: 8:59 AM – exactly. I sprinted the remaining distance, wrenched open the locker room door, and bolted through it. The change room was a long hall lined with metal lockers. In the middle of the room were benches, and off to the sides were nooks, offering some privacy in an otherwise open room.
As class had already started, the locker room was deserted. I stripped off my clothes in the middle of the hall, enjoying the fact that I had the room to myself. I pulled of my shirt, jeans, and socks, and removed my briefs, still sweaty from my sprinting. I upturned the gym bag at my feet, only to discover a sea of gym clothes – none of which belonged to me. Clearly I’d just dumped the contents of someone else’s bag. Frustrated, I located my gym bag, and started to change.
Just then, I heard a sink turn on, and then footsteps. Apparently the locker room wasn’t deserted, after all. From the showers came a blond haired toned figure, wearing nothing but a towel.
“You running late too?”
“Ya, I missed my train”, I answered him.
The guy introduced himself as Ryan, and continued walking towards me – apparently it was his gym bag that I’d upturned. The guy was hot, to say the least. I looked down at the mess clothes at my feet – a mixture of my discarded clothes and the contents of Ryan’s bag.
“Sorry, I’ve been meaning to do laundry...”, Ryan said, gesturing to the mess of gym clothes on the floor – there was several days worth there.
We kept talking as I collected my share of the clothes and he changed. I shoved my jeans, socks, and shirt into my bag, locked my locker, and started to leave.
“Wait, you forgot these!”
I turned around to see Ryan holding my sweaty underwear. They were white Calvin Klein’s with a red waistband; Ryan was grinning.
“Fuck, I just locked all my stuff away in my locker.”
“Don’t worry about it, man”, said Ryan, as he added my sweaty Calvin’s to his locker. “I’ll put them in my locker, you can get them after.”
“Oh, right. Thanks man.”, I managed, and left the change room alongside Ryan.
My usual partner, Nick, was off in the other side of the gym, already working with another partner, and so Ryan suggested we work together. We took turns lifting weights, and recording each other’s heart rates after each set. Next, we did sit ups, and measured various muscles with tape measures. Then it happened.
Ryan was wrapping a tape measure around my thigh when I started to get hard. I could feel his hand pressed up against my cock, and soon I couldn’t tell if he was measuring my thigh or the contour of my hard-on.
Ryan suggested we go to the supply closet and fetch heavier dumbbells for the next set. I agreed – anything to avoid the awkward situation of Ryan satring at my hard-on – and so we set off together.
In the storage room, Ryan asked ,“How big is it?”
He must be talking about the assignment, and muscle size, I thought. It had to be that.
“I dunno, never measured. You better check.”, I said. He had to talking about the work. Not my hard-on – he was referring to the work, I told myself.
Ryan grinned, picked up the measure ribbon, and got on his knees. I put my leg forward, expecting him to continue recording data on the sheet. Instead, Ryan grabbed hold of the waistband of my gym shorts, and pulled.
My initial reaction was sheer shock: “Dude, what the fuck?!” Ryan, however, just grinned.
“I like the other ones better”, he said sportingly, pointing at the pair of black Calvin Klein briefs I had on for the workout. “These’ll have to go.”
Before I could protest, I was naked from the waist down. Ryan measured my cock – I let him. At the back of the storage closet were large mats, used for high jump and gymnastics. Before I knew it, Ryan and I were laying on the matts; they were coarse, but filled with foam, and strangely comfortable.
All of my earlier apprehension had evaporated. As Ryan had explored my body earlier, I explored his. Ryan took of his shirt and gym shorts, and laid on the matt next to me in his jockstrap. He was muscly, and had a great ass. Perfectly shaped washboard abs, and strong shoulders. I felt Ryan's bare ass, and the bulge of his jockstrap. Then, Ryan started to jack me off, and I reached to take off his jock. Just then, however, the door opened. The lab was over, and people were lining up to put away equipment. Fuck. Lucky for us, the matts were located behind a row of crowded shelving units, hiding us from immediate view. Ryan and I quickly and silently dressed, and left the storage closet with none the wiser. Ryan gave me his number – after all, we had homework to finish, and he still had my Calvin’s in his locker. This was just the beginning.