The Faces You Show Me - Pt. 02

Author's Note: Thank you so much to those who are reading this story! I know the first chapter wasn't "spicy" per se, but I think this should more than make up for it. I want this story to be rooted in real queer experiences, with fleshed out characters who have honest conversations. Erotica is fantasy, but I want mine to feel grounded by reality. Hope you enjoy this one!

Chapter 2: The Locker Room

On the drive back from Dave's, my thoughts moved faster than my car. They all circled around the same question: What just happened? Although my anger subsided, I was left frustrated - emotionally and sexually.

Porn doesn't talk about the prep that goes into a hookup. There's the physical stuff - I trimmed my pubes, douched, showered, styled my hair, brushed my teeth, wore the sexiest underwear I owned. But there's the mental prep too. How long did I spend staring at myself in the mirror, wondering if he would like the way I looked? I fantasized, imagining someone staring at me, cock swelling, desperate to get his hands on my body. I wondered what it would have been like to be with Dave. Was he telling the truth about how he would focus on his wife?

What would it be like to feel like the closet was safer than being out? Before I came out, I felt like I was living a lie. Coming out meant coming into myself. At first, it was terrifying. It was like admitting that I'd been wearing a costume my whole life - I wasn't sure who I was underneath. One day, I asked my mom to take me to the mall. We tried on different clothes for hours. She was so patient. I tried everything: crop tops, blouses, tank tops, legging, hats, shoes, jewelry, skirts, cargo pants. I tried every shape, size, and colour I could find. It didn't matter whether it came from the men or women's side of the stores or even if it fit my body. I just wanted to figure out what felt the most like me.

We only bought two things. First, I got my ears pierced by a pre-teen (I blame her for the infection that followed). Second, I bought a black baseball cap with a pride flag embroidered on the front. It was simple, felt like me, but made a statement about who I was. I'm grateful to my mom every single day for the hours we spent in that mall. She gave me a safe space to explore, had great advice for what looked good on me, and never once made me feel judged. That's how things should be, right? What would Dave wear if he could have done the same? I tried to ignore the growing ache in my groin.

I decided I needed to calm my mind and drove to the gym. It was a 24-hour location and had become my comfort space over the years. I wasn't a bodybuilder or anything - I went a few times a week for the mental clarity. As an anxious person, exercise was a grounding tool for me. It gave a me place to turn my nervous energy into movement. The muscle tone that resulted from it was just a bonus.

It was nearly midnight by the time I arrived, and the gym was quiet. A pair of familiar strangers ran on the treadmills across from me while I began my stretches, earbuds in, taking deep breaths as the ritualistic movements calmed my nerves. I tried not to gawk at the handsome man lifting weights heavier than my body. As my muscles relaxed, Dave slipped from my mind, replaced with the music I loved. I focused on my immediate surroundings and everyone else disappeared from my conscious awareness. The workout was a blur. Cardio, some bicep curls, chest presses, and planks. By the end of it, I was too exhausted to think about how horny I was.

The best part of any workout is the shower at the end. I walked into the locker room, trying to ignore the pungent smell of body odours and cheap cologne. Another man - the one I'd avoided staring at before - was changing with his back to me as I passed. We were the only people there. I tried not to be a creep, but it was hard not to notice the sculpted musculature of his hairy back. And that ass. He seemed young - maybe in his early twenties. I walked past him, opened my locker, stripped, and willed myself not to look as he took off his clothes.

I'm not shy in the locker room. With a deep breath, I pulled down my underwear, willing myself to stay soft. My dick was average - maybe six inches hard, three inches soft. But my balls more than made up for it in size. I walked to the open showers, letting the hot water run down my face, washing the sweat from my hair with a relieved sigh. The warmth was intoxicating on my throbbing shoulders and upper back.

Footsteps approached. When I opened my eyes, the other man in the locker room was standing directly across from me, facing away. I grinned, taking a second to check him out. He was naked, water dripping down his round, voluptuous ass. His back hair was thickest along his shoulders, almost black. He was exactly my type. I started to feel a warmth in my groin and knew I was starting to get hard. Fuck. I turned around, trying to think of anything else to calm me down.

"Saw you working out earlier. You look like you know what you're doing. How come I haven't seen you around?" His voice was low and gruff. My dick was throbbing now. When was the last time I came? Days ago? If I turned around, the best-case scenario would be that this beautiful man would never talk to me again. At worst, I would be assaulted.

"Thanks." I squeaked. "I... usually come earlier in the day."

"Makes sense. You okay? You seem a little tense."

"Mhm?" I tried to say calmly. I'm not sure what came out of my mouth, but it sounded more like a question.

I heard footsteps. Was he walking up to me? Nerves shot through my body - I was definitely going to get beat up. Fuck. I started to shake.

The whisper in my ear sent chills down my spine. "I think you should turn around."

This couldn't be real. Did this kind of thing really happen? I'd read about cruising, but didn't think people actually approached each other like this. Was it a trap to lure me in? Would he complain to the staff and get me kicked out of my gym? I gulped and turned around, unsure of what else I could do. My cock was completely erect and throbbing.

I faced him, terrified that I was misinterpreting. Precum dripped from the tip of my dick. I lowered my eyes, afraid to meet his.

He was hard. He was circumcised, seven inches, and girthy. My jaw dropped. I traced my gaze upwards, taking in his glistening, stunning body: The abs. The v-line. The near-black chest hair clinging to his skin. The sky-blue eyes.

MuscleStud69 was unmistakeably smiling back at me.

Not Dave. This was the man Dave was pretending to be. I'd practically studied his face, fantasizing about this exact scenario. He had no idea I'd seen him naked already, that I'd already planned to meet him. It didn't matter - nothing could have prepared me for how fucking turned on I would be seeing him in person.

"Like what you see?" he asked, pride in his voice. Was he flexing his pecs?

I nodded, in pure, erotic awe. Words were no longer possible.

"You can touch it, if you want."

Who was I to say no? His cock was thick, smooth, and veiny. His pubic hair was dark and neatly trimmed. His balls dangled loosely - I suspected from the volume that he had a full load ready as well. I wrapped my hands around his base, applying firm pressure. He let out a breathy moan, and I nearly exploded. I began to massage his cock, thumb pressing along the lower side, milking the precum from him. A drip welled at the tip. I rubbed it between my fingers, using it as lube.

"Good boy," he groaned. Something in my brain melted when he said it. I stroked faster and felt him swell. With my other hand I grabbed his firm ass and pulled him closer. "Fuck you know what you're doing! That's right - stroke it like a good little slut. Don't you fucking stop until I say so."

I learned that night that I really like dirty talk. The more he told me I wanted it, the more I did. I stroked him slowly, coating the ridge around the base of his head with his precum, intoxicated by way moaned. I squeezed his balls. His hips started to sway, and I tightened my grip until his groans filled the showers. I massaged his perineum, meeting his glazed eyes. My shoulders ached. I didn't care. I kept going, releasing his balls and massaging his perineum.

"You're really good at that. Look how much my cock is dripping!" He moaned in exasperation. It was true - I played with it in my fingers and coated the rest of his dick, using it as lube. "If you keep going like that, I'm gonna cum. Do you want me to cum?"

Instead of answering, I moved my fingers to his hole, teasing the entrance. His eyes were wild. His breath quickened. He was going to lose his load because I made him finish. Because in that moment, I was his good fucking boy.

"Tell me you want me to cum," he growled. My cock twitched as the assertiveness.

I smiled and locked eyes on his. "Cum for me. Please. I need you to cum for me."

"Fuuccckk," he moaned. "I'm cumming!" I felt pulsing and then a warm spray as his cock spasmed and shot rope after rope of cum on my belly. I didn't stop, desperate to milk every drop from his balls.

He grinned that wicked smile that I'd seen in the photos. It was even better in person.

"Turn around, baby. Your turn now."

Hot water from the shower ran down my chest, running along the pools of cum on my body. He pulled his massive torso close to me, pressing up to my back. His hands wrapped around me, slowly tracing their way to my erection. They were surprisingly smooth. I whimpered when he squeezed my balls. He whispered, "You like that, don't you?"

"Mhm," I moaned.

"You want me to milk the cum out of you?"

"Yes." I gasped.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Sir!"

His laugh was devilish. "You know what I want you to call me."

I did. "Yes, Daddy." It was the first time I'd ever said it to someone. Fireworks of pure, unadulterated lust exploded in my mind. Was this normal?

"Good. Boy." His remaining hand wrapped around my cock, easily enveloping the entire length. He stroked it slowly as he pulled my body tightly against him. His cock, somehow still hard, rubbed against my ass and I wanted nothing more than to have him inside me. Whenever I groaned, he growled in response, stroking a little faster. I pushed back, imagining having him inside me.

"Daddy. I'm gonna - fuck!"

I practically screamed, not caring if anyone heard me. Cum sprayed from my cock, plastering the shower wall like an abstract painting. All my senses were flooded - I couldn't see, hear, or think. The only thing that mattered was that I felt safe enough to lose control as he pulled me tightly against his body. I was safe with him. Pure bliss washed through my body as the contractions lessened in intensity. My body seemed to melt into his.

"Mmmm," he growled. "Look at that load. You must have needed that!"

He finally released my cock and pulled away from my body. I could have cried. All I wanted was to feel his chest hair against my back: the contrast of the soft skin and firm muscles beneath. He walked back to his shower, and I hid my disappointment when he pulled away. Why couldn't he stay? We finished our showers in comfortable silence. When I changed back into my clothes, I could barely fathom what just happened. Was my mind playing tricks on me? No. I knew that face.

I packed up my bag. I stopped near him before I left the locker room, wondering if I should tell him about Dave. Was this the right time? Was there ever a right time? He looked up at me, nodding. "I'm here almost every night around ten. See you around?"

I nodded. When the locker room doors closed behind me, I practically sprinted to my car.