Turnabout

TURNABOUT by K. Nitsua. Copyright 2024 by the author.

I'm sure that whoever designed it hadn't intended it that way, but the men's locker room at my gym was ideally set up for cruising. I often wondered why more guys didn't taken advantage of it.

Mirrored alcoves lined with sinks and warm-air dryers attached to the walls were set opposite three-walled recessed areas lined with lockers and benches. It didn't take much effort to stand at a sink, washing up or shaving, and find an angle where you could catch the eye of someone dressing or toweling off at his locker.

The showers had even more possibilities. A wide entryway directly opposite one square of lockers led to the wet area, consisting of individual stalls with translucent doors and walls. Though the views from outside were blurry, you could still get a pretty good idea of how a guy inside looked, which is why the shy ones chose the water boxes that couldn't be seen through the entryway or from the lockers. If you were inside one you could also discreetly check out a guy next to you.

For some reason two of the shower stalls on the wall opposite the entryway had no doors. That little detail was the key to how Rick and I connected that first time.

Even if the rest of him hadn't been in such great shape Rick (I would not learn his name until much later) would have been a handsome man. The first day he turned up at the gym I sized up his full head of salt and pepper hair, steely narrow eyes and jutting jawline. Whenever I saw him after that striding around the floor of the weights area, wearing the expression of grim concentration most men wore when they worked out, I'd imagine him as a cowboy of the Old West, riding some vast sunbaked range, gazing toward the far horizon.

Of course he wasn't dressed anything like a cowboy. Like most of us of a certain age, Rick's workout gear wasn't stylish. It was the same each time--loose shorts of a nondescript color and a similarly dingy tank top that bared his muscular shoulders and arms. His footwear was almost comical--plain white athletic socks of a type almost no one (not even me) wore anymore and what looked like plain black walking shoes.

But who gave a shit about Rick's gym clothes? It was what you saw when they came off that counted. Unlike many guys who either didn't shower at the gym or did so quickly and furtively, as if they were ashamed of their bodies, Rick seemed more than pleased to show his off.

I'd noticed from covert observation how he spent most of his time working on his upper body, and it had really paid off. His shoulders were broad and his lats popped out when he raised his arms. His back was corded with muscle and flared out in the classic V-shape that all men want to have, and tapered down to a pair of small, round, and tight butt cheeks that could have belonged to a man twenty years younger.

His chest projected in two sharply defined pectoral slabs with a deep cleft in between, topped with large, fleshy nipples, dusted with dark hair mixed with silver highlights. His stomach was the only feature that betrayed his age--he had visible abs, true, but his belly was larger than probably he would have liked. Personally, I thought it made him even hotter, a true silver dad. Anyway, when you were checking him out your eye didn't stop there, not when he had such quality assets lower down. Rick was a bit cagey about revealing them, but I was sharp enough to have caught some quick glimpses of a long, circumcised rope of manflesh hanging straight down between a perfect pair of round, tight balls, the whole frame by a neatly trimmed bush. Classic.

Without ever planning on it I would frequently find myself at a locker dressing or undressing just as he emerged from his post-workout shower. He would always stand naked in the entryway, shaking his towel dry for what seemed an inordinately long time, long enough so anyone who wanted could get a good look at what he had. He'd never make eye contact or speak, though, even though we frequently chose lockers in the same area, often right across from each other. Over the years I had frequently discovered that men who at first glance seemed unimpeachably straight were often anything but. I never tried to chat Rick up to try and find out whether there any cracks in his armor, though. The truth was he intimidated me, which didn't happen very often.

Then one day I left the gym floor after my workout, hot and sweaty after finishing up with a good run on the treadmill after my usual weights. I stripped off my gym gear in the locker room, took my towel and entered the shower area. Out of force of habit, not really hoping for anything, I took one of the stalls with no door and a view toward the lockers. Water was running and a couple of shadowy figures were in the stalls further in.

As I turned toward the opening of the stall, letting the warm spray wash shampoo out of my hair, I saw a familiar figure walk past my stall. My granite-jawed man had worked out, gotten clean before me and was about to towel off. I held my breath, not daring to hope.

To my delight he stopped in the shower entryway and proceeded to his usual ritual of peeling off his towel and drying every inch of his body, his musculature glistening with moisture and pumped up from his workout. He dropped his towel and used it to cradle his equipment while he dried his cock and balls. I forgot myself, stood stock still underneath the shower spray and took in the mouthwatering sight. Dimly I was aware of my own cock beginning to stiffen and rise between my legs.

At that moment the god that I was worshiping raised his head. I quickly dropped mine, but not before we locked eyes for a split second. Busted! I stood frozen, staring at the water flowing at my feet, feeling the blush spread across my face. It was long moments before I felt in control enough to raise my head.

He was still standing there, holding his towel in one hand, looking unsmiling at me. I went for broke and met his gaze again, this time holding it. We stood rooted to our spots for what seemed like an eternity.

Then he moved directly toward my shower stall, stopping at the entrance and thrusting his head in until his face was just inches from mine. His magnetic blue eyes bored into me. Warm water was cascading down but I imagined I could feel the heat coming from his body.

"Get dressed and meet me outside."

He was not wasting words. My heart pounded in my ears. A split second, then I nodded. He smiled for the first time since I'd seen him, taking my breath away. Then he was gone. I raced to follow him, turning off the shower and hastily toweling myself off, trying to keep my semi-hardon concealed.

Today whatever locker he was using was not in the same area as mine. I didn't see him as I dressed, and wondered if he was just messing with me. Maybe when I got outside no one would be there.

But there he was, clutching his gym bag.

"Why don't you ride with me. I'll bring you back here."

He had it all planned. I guess I hadn't been as subtle checking him out as I'd thought. A small part of me wondered what I was doing. Now that the scene I'd only fantasized about had suddenly become real, though, I wasn't about to let it slip out of my hands.

"Sounds like a plan." I stuck out my hand. "I'm Jerry, by the way."

He gave me an odd, unfathomable look. Then it was gone as he extended his own and shook mine. "Rick."

I clambered into the passenger side of his fiery red, shiny Ford F-150 as he gunned the engine, and off we went.

We turned out of the gym parking lot and Rick guided the truck onto the nearby freeway. I shot a sidelong glance at his set jaw and steely gaze, now fixed on the traffic in front of us. The guy wasn't a psycho or serial killer, I was sure. I was getting a funny vibe from him, though. I had the feeling that we had met before, which couldn't have happened.

We drove for what seemed like a long while, neither of us saying a word. Finally I couldn't help it and glanced at my phone.

"We're almost there," Rick said.

Somehow it was a relief to hear him speak. "You drive all this way to go to the gym?" I asked.

"It's near where I work."

By now we had exited the freeway and were on the access road. Minutes later we turned into the driveway of a newish, nondescript house in one of the numerous subdivisions that dotted the landscape.

I'd idly wondered whether Rick might be a married man, but the second I walked into his immaculate living quarters I knew he couldn't be. This was a house that had been professionally decorated and was kept professionally clean--no trace of any personal touch.

"Come on in. Master bedroom's this way."

We faced each other in the cool, semi dark bedroom, lit only by light filtering in through one shaded window. He met my eyes and smiled again. Tentatively I reached out and placed my hand on his broad, hard chest, letting it rove down to the belt holding up his jeans. I'd been here before and knew what to do. Moments later his belt was unbuckled, his jeans were pushed down his thighs, and the prize I had coveted for so long was coming into view, flopping out semihard above the waistband of his boxer briefs.

I sank to my knees and got my first closeup view of his dick, long and straight, roped with veins, capped with a perfect conical purplish head. It was in my mouth almost before I'd seen it.

Rick had been silent all this time, but when I first engulfed his cock with my mouth I heard the quick intake of his breath above me. His arms had been hanging passively at his sides but now he raised a hand and rested it on my head as I began to suck him, using all the tongue and spit I had, sliding back and forth and taking him down to the root, pressing my nose into his pubes, pulling on and fondling his big balls.

"Fuck yeah," he said. In a few quick movements he stripped off his shirt and let it drop on the bedroom carpet. My hands roamed over his chest, his back, the musculature of his arms, ending by cupping and gripping both of his tight butt cheeks.

I cast a glance upward. His face was turned up toward the ceiling, his eyes closed, his jaw now slack.

Abruptly his big hands pushed my head hard into his crotch. The head of his cock bumped the back of my throat, cutting off my air supply as he fucked my face. I gagged, but he kept up the relentless pressure despite my muffled pleas. Just as I began to panic he released me and I fell back onto my haunches, my face wet with spit and tears, drawing air in great gasps. Above me he chuckled in satisfaction.

"Nice."

Before I could register any protest he pulled me to my feet. Quickly, urgently he relieved me of my t-shirt and shorts. A few seconds later we were both naked and he was pushing me backward across the room until I fell onto his bed. He came after me before I could catch my breath, kneeling on the carpet, spreading my legs and taking my cock into his mouth. Now it was my turn to go slack-jawed and cloudy-eyed as shocks of pleasure rippled through my body.

Rick sucked hard and intently, barely pausing to catch his breath. He seemed possessed by lust, which was both flattering and a little bit scary. Soon I felt the juices rising in my balls and put a hand on his bobbing head.

"Going to cum if you don't slow down, man."

I wasn't sure he was going to oblige, but Rick let go, raised his head and grinned. "Not yet." His hands gripped my thighs, pushing my legs further apart and up. My eyes widened as I saw where he was going.

"Aw fuck," I said as I felt him spread my cheeks apart, just before the first touch of his wet, wiggling tongue on the tender flesh of my hole. "Fuck!" I shouted again, grabbing my ankles to give him more access.

For the next long minutes my moans and whimpers mingled with the obscene slurping and sucking noises Rick was making as he rimmed me for all he was worth. Lusting after him in the locker room these past few months I'd never dared imagine getting to this point, let alone that this man would throw himself into sex with such abandon.

There were going to be more surprises that afternoon than I ever could have imagined, and right then Rick threw another curve at me. He left off his oral labors and clambered his way onto the bed until his face was above mine, glistening with spit and crinkled with a manic glee. Once again I was getting that strange vibe off of him, and a faint apprehension stirred in me. It was way too late for caution, though.

"You're fucking hot," I told him.

"You ain't seen nothing yet," he replied, and clamped his mouth down on mine. Our kiss was as frantic and lustful as everything else we'd done so far. When we broke apart he asked, "Did you taste yourself?"

I told him what he wanted to hear. "Yeah, I tasted it. Tasted my ass on you."

He grinned. "Flip over. I like to see what I'm fucking."

Figured that he was a top. Not that there was anything wrong with that--by now I was totally under this guy's spell. Rick had shown me in no uncertain terms who was in charge.

"Elbows and knees. Skooch your butt up and put your head down." Abruptly he got off the bed, leaving me in that submissive pose, returning a moment later with a towel and a squeeze bottle. He greased himself and me up with quick motions, making sure to thrust a finger inside. After a quick wipe towel and bottle hit the bedspread. I felt his hands grab my hips and the hard pole of his erection press at my backdoor.

I closed my eyes and let out a sigh of anticipation, which turned into a startled cry.

"Umph!"

My eyes and mouth flew open as his dick broke through my ring and surged inside me. It didn't really hurt, probably because of the attention he'd already given my hole. The spreading warmth of suddenly being filled with hard cock, as many times as I'd felt it before, was still indescribable. My own organ was hard as a rock underneath me, though I hadn't touched it.

"Fuck," I breathed, as I dropped my head in total surrender.

Rick was as expert and rough a fucker as I'd thought he'd be, varying the pace and depth of his thrusts, keeping me off balance, plunging into me balls deep and making me yell in mingled pain and delight. He pushed his hand against my neck and shoved my face into the mattress. I turned my head to the side and moaned my encouragement, splaying my arms out in submission. The next moment I gasped as he grabbed my chin and forced my body upward, my back arching painfully as he brought his face next to my ear and hissed, "You like getting plowed, don't you?"

I nodded. "Yes."

He let go and slapped my cheek, hard enough to sting. "Yes, what, boy?"

By now I was as into it as he was. "Yes, sir."

"Good boy." I gasped again as suddenly he pulled out of me and grabbed the discarded towel.

"On your back. Put this under you."

I obeyed. As soon as I was on my back I started to raise my legs, but Rick had other ideas. He straddled my chest, cupped my head in his hands and thrust his only slightly softened pole into my mouth.

"Clean it off."

He was intent on dominating and humiliating me, that much was clear. If I hadn't been so turned on I might have resisted, but I went with it, tasting bitter lube and whatever else on his cock, which turned to solid steel again as I worked on it. After a while he pulled out and leaned forward, kissing me hard, then reared up and spat into my mouth before thrusting his tongue in again.

"Gonna fuck the shit out of me, buddy?" I asked when we broke apart. In reply Rick pushed my legs up, took his cock in his hand, lined it up and shoved it back in. For the next few minutes incoherent sounds of male lust were all that came out of us, punctuated by the thudding of Rick's pelvis against my tensed cheeks every time he hit bottom.

I had totally lost track of time and had no idea how long he had been fucking me when his breathing deepened. Low animal grunts began to rise from his throat.

"Ready for my load?" he hissed. I nodded into his intent eyes.

"Give it to me, fucker. Breed me."

Rick needed no encouragement. His hips moved faster and faster until he was drilling my flaming, abused hole. His eyes squeezed shut and his teeth gritted in an animal snarl as he let out a single strangled "Uggh!" followed by rapid, deep gasps.

He turned his face upward. His eyes were still closed, but his mouth now opened in a silent shout of celebration. I squeezed my ass muscles, trying to feel his shaft pulsating as he flooded me with his seed.

Rick finally lowered his head, letting out a tremendous sigh. He carefully pulled out of me and worked his way downward until his head was between my legs. For a moment I thought he was going to blow me again, but he went past my still swollen dick, pushing on the backs of my thighs and raising my legs into the air again.

"Push it out."

"What?" I said, stupidly.

"Push it out. Let me see your cummy hole."

I obeyed, keeping my eyes on Rick's intent face as I felt his cum start to ooze out of me. Suddenly I gasped as I felt the prickly stubble of his chin hairs against the inflamed, tender flesh of my freshly fucked hole. Smacking and slurping noises filled the air as Rick ate his jizz out of my ass. "Push out," he said again, his words garbled. More of his seed spilled out of me than I'd have thought possible. Rick had shot a huge load and seemed intent on getting it all back.

Then he raised himself on his hands and crawled up the bed, his steely eyes once again boring into mine, a streak of cum running down his chin from his closed lips. I just had time to realize what he was going to do when my "Oh fuck!" was cut off by his mouth clamping onto mine. His lips opened and his slimy, salty seed flooded into my mouth. I heard myself uttering muffled squeals, half of disgust, half of ecstasy. He'd taken me where I'd never gone before.

When he was sure I'd swallowed all his cum that had been in my ass he raised his head and said, "Now your turn." With that he grabbed my aching, unsatisfied cock, quickly working it back up to full hardness with his mouth and hand. It didn't very many strokes before the combined friction made my organ explode, hard spurts jetting into his mouth while my head thrashed and my body writhed in ecstasy.

"Oh God!"

He raised his head again, cheeks bulging. I was ready for him this time. I opened my mouth to receive the load I'd just shot, clots of thick, foamy white scum dripping onto my lips and chin, falling into my eager throat.

Our lips ground together over and over, smearing semen over both our faces, collecting it again with our tongues and passing it back and forth. Finally we each swallowed our share and broke apart. With one last sigh of exhaustion Rick dropped his head onto my chest. I put my arms around him and tousled his hair, the first gesture of simple affection either of us had allowed ourselves that afternoon.

"That was fucking amazing," I told him.

His smile was slow this time, his eyes no longer steely. "Glad you liked."

We lay in each other's arms without speaking as our breathing slowly returned to normal. Finally, he stirred and sat up on the bed. As I had done so many times before I admired the rippling muscles in his back.

"Bathroom's yours if you want to get cleaned up. Use any towel you want. They're all clean."

In his shower I thought about what had just happened as I washed off the traces of our furious encounter. A stranger had pushed me without mercy into doing things I'd seldom or never done. I'd let it happen without protest--in fact I couldn't remember the last time I'd enjoyed sex this much. What did that say about me? I wasn't sure I wanted to go there just yet.

Rick was gone when I walked back into the bedroom. I picked up the few pieces of clothing I'd been wearing and put them on. I figured now that he had satisfied his curiosity about me the guy was going to ease me back out of his life. I was used to one-and-done hookups and this one looked to be no different.

A bit to my surprise he was sitting on his living room couch dressed only in his underwear, drinking bottled water. He gestured toward another bottle that was sitting unopened nearby.

"All that exercise made me thirsty. Gym and post-gym." He grinned. "Figured you might need some too."

I shrugged. "Thanks."

We sat on the couch, drinking in silence. I debated whether to act on the feelings I'd had during the afternoon, but finally decided to go for it.

"This is going to sound totally lame, but... have we met before?"

To my surprise Rick didn't immediately deny it. He had the same strange expression on his face as when I'd same my name back in the gym parking lot.

"So you figured it out. That's totally amazing."

"Figured what out?" I was beginning to get annoyed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Sorry." Rick shifted his body uneasily. "I'll quit messing with you. Jeremy."

Now it was my turn to be thunderstruck. "No one calls me that now. How did you know?"

His smile was tight. "Well, Rick's not my real name either. I haven't used that since sixth grade." The familiar steely glint in his eyes reappeared. "I was Cedric back then. Remember?"

I repeated, not understanding, "Cedric?" Suddenly comprehension dawned. Rick must have seen my face change, because he nodded with grim satisfaction.

"Remember him now? The skinny little wimp with the faggy name you and your buddies used to push around and beat up at recess?"

I stared at him, stricken, unable to look away.

"I remember everything. Especially that last time, when you guys picked me up and threw me into that thorn bush by the playground. I had to go to the emergency room to get some of those prickles taken out."

I shook my head, my throat dry. "You didn't come back to school after that. We all got suspended for a week."

"My folks put me in a church school right in the middle of the year. Paid through the nose. They were scared you'd kill me the next time." He snorted. "Suspended, eh? Bet that was a nice vacation."

Memories were coming back thick and fast. "The principal called our parents. My dad told me that if I didn't cut the crap they'd put me in a military boarding school. Scared me straight." I laughed a little as I realized how stupid that sounded. "Well, not really. Obviously."

Rick stared off into space, talking more to himself than to me. "I decided I was never going to be a human punching bag again. Went out for sports, worked out, bulked up. Got respect. Got compliments. Got hit on--by other guys. After a while I figured it out."

He turned, his eyes pinning me in place. "I'd blocked all that shit out of my mind for decades. Then I start going to this new gym. One day I catch another dude checking me out. He looks vaguely familiar. Takes me a while to figure out why."

He snorted. "Is this a cosmic joke or what? After all that crap you pulled you turn out to be as queer as me."

I looked at him. "So you were trying to degrade and humiliate me. Get a little of your own back."

Rick nodded. "Yeah. Can you blame me?"

I said, slowly, "I never did a lot of that shit before. It was fucking hot."

He stared. "Wow. The joke's on me. You loved it. All of it."

"Yeah, I did." I looked into his eyes and kept my voice steady. "For what it's worth I'm sorry about sixth grade. Me and those other guys, we made your life hell. You didn't deserve that."

Rick blinked and looked away. After a long moment he said, "Well, that's something."

We sat in silence again. I could feel something that had been stretched taut between us relaxing.

After a while Rick stood up from the couch. I did the same and he wrapped me in a strong hug. I just had time to hug him back before he released me. I smiled at him, maybe for the first time.

"You turned out okay."

Rick scoffed at that, but he was smiling too. "I'll take you back."

Soon we were back in his red pickup, speeding down the freeway back to the gym.

"So, we're cool?"

Cedric looked at me and nodded. "Yep."

The next question stuck in my throat, but finally I got it out. "Think we'll do this again?"

At that a slow smile, not mean, spread across his face. "You want to, Jeremy?"

I thought about kissing or hitting him. I settled for putting on my best poker face and saying, "Yeah."

Rick smiled again and turned his eyes to the road.

We continued in silence down the ribbon of white concrete, bathed in the golden glow of the summer afternoon. END