So there I was, a skinny 5'9" guy in my black shorts, white t-shirt, and tennis shoes. Towel in bag, bag on back, feeling pretty fly. I probably wasn'... as muscular as my reflection liked to tell me, but I wasn't in bad shape either. I was yet to fill out, but you couldn't deny I had some definition. I walked up the stairs of the gym and signed in. Being quite late on a Friday night, the gym was almost deserted. There was an old guy doing some rowing in the corner, some guy with headphones doing. ‘Unngh… Mmmmm! Loverrrr.’ ‘Darling, I’m going to dance us over through that archway. I want you so much – maybe there’s an empty room over there,’ I mumbled. ‘Oh, yesss, pleeease’. She was kissing my neck and sucking on my ear lobe. ‘There are restrooms and some other doors in that hallway,’ she whispered back. ‘Hold me closer, please, you feel so good.’ We couldn’t get any closer, of course. We were glued together from chest to groin – we could hardly move to the music. My lower hand was under. More

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