Hi All! My first foray into erotic fiction after doing some creative writing exercises and a short course. I'm excited to hear what you think and what I can improve! ZS
Ben had a rough week. Summer in London swelled. The hazy streets and parks buttered in sunshine; joy infectious after months big jumpers, winter walks to the pub and grey skies. A month ago, he called time on his relationship of five years. His mood lower, the writing on the wall not quite easy to wash as expected.
His first romantic relationship, monogamous, Ben had an usual one with Jake. Late in comparison to their straight peers, bizarre to the gays. They were sweet. Too sweet to keep a romantic spark alive. Ben starving, wanting a companion to go on an adventure with. Jake busy in comfort, work and a slipping depression.
Waking up nude, groggy, sans hangover of a Saturday at 9:30 am. Ben slipped on Jake’s mustard robe, phone slipped into a pocket instinctively and went to make himself a coffee. Shuttling open and ducking his head underneath the huge sash window by the kitchen, he perched on the flat roof of the cornershop they lived above. Their slice of a garden in a village-like enclave, the park a heartbeat and eyeshot away. Jake was coming to pick up his things, boxes sat in the lounge to be packed and Ben had a day to be out of the house ahead with no plans.
He’d barely made it out of bed on most mornings to get to work on time. His brain foggy and barely able to process what to buy in the supermarket, or the last time he had been to the gym. His body was tense, his tongue tired of spilling reasonings and feelings, drinking commiseration beers provided by friends.
Flicking through Google Maps of things to do in the area that could keep him out of the house for a good chunk of the day, the gym sprang to mind. The pool, sauna and steam room suite that he had been meaning to go down to, and could be a gentle way back to a routine. A place to think without screens, the walls of their house that was soon to become his, before he ended the lease at the end of the summer, no pitying looks or hugs from friends.
He booked the health suite through the gym app for noon. Once he pottered around and had breakfast, he packed his speedo, goggles and a towel into his gym bag. Slipping into a vest, shorts and Birkenstocks, he grabbed his sunglasses and airpods then left for a few hours. Walking through the park listening to a podcast queued up from weeks ago to listen to, the sun was warm on his pale skin for the first time of the year. He found himself smiling - almost at tears - for the hope in the air that only a summer in London could bring, but yet not knowing what the day, weeks, months, years ahead would look like.
Entering the gym as he normally would, he made it down the stairs to the changing rooms for the pool and health suite. Outside he bustled through flocks of parents, children of varying ages and was relived to see a quieter space the further he moved through.
Pushing the door into the changing areas, it was the first time he’d used the ones for the pool instead of the gym. He was met with an open shower to the left, and lockers down a long corridor in front of him. Catching his eye there was a tall man showering naked amongst the half dozen open shower heads. Thirties, tall, toned, beardy, hairy, lathered. It was the first naked man that Ben had seen showering other than Jake for a long time. Or rather, that he could take in without guilt.
As he moved down the corridor, tingles from his stomach moved down to his thighs at the mental image. His cock started to slowly grow in his briefs. Excitement, shame and the newness rose in his mind as his erection grew uncontrollably, a teenage memory. His experiences of queer lovers were few, private, infrequent. But formative awakenings, fantasies and experiences were still buried deep within him, a sole activity to masturbate to on a computer screen since he’d been with Jake. The locker room and shower fantasy was huge, reminding him of his times in an all boys’ school. Avoiding the communal showers, shrinking and folding to change in such a small place in the corner to go unnoticed but take it all in. The sights. Smells. Wonder of taste of those salty, chlorinated, sweaty bodies.
Today was going to be different. He ignored the changing village cubicles and dropped his bag down in the open changing area. Textured tiles on the soles of his feet as he took his sliders off, black wooden benches that he left his gym bag on to slip out of his clothes and into his black speedos. He was on his own, cock at half mast, eyes wide and ready for any fellow men to join.
Slipping his swim hat and goggles on, he moved to the showers which were now empty to have a splash. Looking in the mirror cascading one of the walls of the pool, he took in his body. Slim, he had lost some muscle tone but still slim, although a little more broad. And with more body hair. He counted as a twink when he met Jake, he was deeply into twunk category as a single man now.
As he started to warm up slowly to the breast stroke, then moving to lengths in series of fours, the yearning for stillness and calm in his mind started to trickle through as he dipped his face in and out of the water, controlling his breathing. His pace quickened and surprised him as he started to feel the freedom of life ahead, rather than the sorrow he’d been carrying.
Thoughts of his formative sexual awakenings in the changing rooms kept floating back too. His penis enlarging in waves, he realised he hadn't wanked for about a week. Unusual compared to the daily ritual, but work and the breakup had distracted him. Hormones were running high, and he was longing for that load release.
He was recalling the terror and the joy of those changing experiences. The camaraderie and banter as his classmates changed. Where his teachers joined if they were playing a match away. The smells changing from when school uniforms came off, of damp and fabric softener which turned to a deep, umami musk when sports kits and socks were removed after some muddy, sweaty play.
Classmates in baggy boxers becoming rugby playing, burly men. The skinnier, tighter, gymnastic ones opting for briefs. He remembers taking in how he appreciated the bodies of his crushes changing over those formative teenage years as his sexual instincts started to come together. Balls dropping. Cocks enlarging. Muscle and tone started to show around the nipples, arms, buttocks, thighs. Pubes and body hair starting to grow. Adams apples and deepening voices. Bigger feet. The talk of kissing girls, fingering and eating their pussies. Jokes about cock sucking and bum fucking. How it all felt like so much to take in and process, but the sadness of it all playing out as fantasy in his head.
Ben wanted to scoop it all up and inhale it at the time, wanting to be a hologram invisible to the scenes, wanking in the corner and fuelling his evening pursuits amidst study and homework. Sometimes, he wondered, if he was lucky, hoping they’d all transform into a fuck fest around him where he could smell their gym kits, suck their cocks, get his nose into musky arses, get his cock into them. Hear the sports captains moan as he got balls deep into them. Other boys wanking off watching them, waiting for their turn. Leading and dominating an activity and a group where he felt otherwise totally passive to it.
Once he hit about 20 lengths of front crawl he took a break. Then switched to back stroke. He had wanted to break the seal and expressed it to friends last month when the breakup was fresh. And now, it was time to act on it. It was a fresh start, finally cutting the cord on pain that was going to continue but diffuse, and time that he did something for him.
He wanted to be watched. He wanted multiple people at once. Together. He’d never cruised before, something he’d watched online and heard one of his old housemate’s friends telling him flirtatiously at a house party five years ago. In clubs, graveyards, parks, saunas across London as they sat in their cum after Ben’s first and only one night stand.
Back in the changing room, Ben grabbed a book to go into the health suite. It was quiet, a summers afternoon indoors after all. Reading the word but not taking in their meaning, he rendered that he’d need to do some research on how to get laid later. He hoped Google, Grindr and other sites while he grabbed brunch would help guide his hedonistic afternoon or evening.
Dipping between the steam room, sauna, jacuzzi and managing about a chapter of the book, Ben called it a day with diminishing returns. Two females that he shared the health suite were yapping and shared his circuit, as much as he tried to change it up and he realised he was relaxed as he could be. Bigger fish were due to be fried later.
Returning to his bag to get a towel and shower gel, he dared to strip his Speedo off and walk to the shower totally naked. Holding the towel just over his cock, and getting into the shower, a man pushed the door to enter the changing room and they locked eyes.
Salt and pepper short hair, tall, a tight black t shirt tucked into jeans and brilliant white trainers. Piercing blue eyes, pale skin sallowed by the early London summer. He was about late fourties’ to early fifties to Ben’s eye. He looked up and then down to Ben’s toes, then up again. Pursed lips, longing for eye contact, he broke into a slight smirk.
Ben moved quickly into the showers flustered, pushed for the warm water that first reached his fully erect penis. He took a sharp inhale as he started to apply shower gel, processing what just happened. He was alone, and couldn’t hear any noise beyond the hum of the air conditioning unit and dim radio outside of the water splashing from his body. His sexual desires often filled with an older, confident man, his porn rotation often infatuated by daddy son or religious order power dynamics.
Out of overwhelm and decision paralysis, Ben stayed in the warm shower. Lathering every part of his body, washing the chlorine away with due care. Hoping his cock, nipples, desires would drain down too.
After a few deep breaths and his skin beginning to wrinkle, he took the towel and dried off. Carefully wrapping it around his waist, less bold this time, he walked back to his things waiting at the open changing area.
His heart skipped and stomach sank when he realised he had company. The very same man was sitting browsing on his phone. Fully dressed, wide legged, but appearing immersed. Ben figured he must have been, questionably gone by the time he came back from the shower. Proceeding as normal, he started to organise his clothes out of his kit bag, as he heard the man start to ruffle behind him.
Ben towelled off his groin and arse, with the towel behind him, his back facing the changing area. Cock again at half mast, he tried to etch out the feeling of being watched that he was sensing. But the soft towel rubbing between his balls, foreskin, cock and perineum that were already burning with life was feeling so good.
Out of body but pure instinct, Ben moved his body forty five degrees of an angle to his left and tilted his head to check behind his soldier. With the rouse of putting his foot on the bench to carefully dry his leg if needed.
What met his eye surprised and soothed him. Salt and pepper daddy was down to a pair of white briefs, waiting to make eye contact again. A clear bulge coming from his briefs, left thumb interlacing the waistband while he had a pair of speedos in his right hand. Ben dropped his towel, giving the side profile of his arse, his erection, eyes of panic, of lust, need. The handsome stranger’s bulge increased as his mouth puckered, before he giggled and nodded to himself.
In that moment Ben was terrified but compelled to comply with whatever his new companion wanted him to say or do. The man pulled his briefs down to reveal a thick, sprung, 8 inch uncut cock that he cupped with his left hand and approached Ben. He grabbed a hold of Ben’s right pec as Ben grabbed onto his own throbbing penis, the touch feeling like he was about to jump out of his own skin with pleasure. He reached out to cup the cock and balls that he knew in that very moment in time, he was destined to milk in whatever way this daddy wanted.
They met lips gently. Brought each other in by each others cock in their hands before Ben was pulled in with a firm hand on his arse and a tongue slowly meeting his. Tender, hungry, the cruiser’s rock hardness pressing into him awakening a desire from deep within, far from the thoughts of Jake and their predictable, mild encounters.
“Let’s grab a cubicle before we’re caught” was whispered in Ben’s ear as his he gasped loudly from the soft, ravenous sounds tickling his eardrum. Following the cue, they both wrapped towels around their waists and tiptoed around the corner to a cubicle, big enough to hold a football team with changing posts for babies. Ben stood and removed the towel as the door was locked behind them, the stranger quickly moving to squat in front of Ben, sniffing and licking his balls and groin while wanking his own thick cock. Precum leaking heavily.
“F… what’s your name?” Ben groaned looking down, thighs wide on his toes, cupping his hands behind as his cock slowly engorged in a warm mouth. Piercing blue eyes winked as there was a snort, and he came up for air.
“Marcus. Bloody hell, you're adorable” as he moved back to take the throbbing member back, Ben letting out a moan which moved into a whisper. His world moving from dusk, unsure, murky waters to pleasure, euphoria, blossoms, sunshine. Marcus is as giving head like he’d never experienced, the surprise cocktail of moisture, suction, pressure that was heightening as he started to work Ben’s nipples.
Marcus rose up, grabbing both of their dicks with one hand, snogging Ben with an intensity and confidence he’d never experienced. He didn’t know what to feel or think or do as time became irrelevant and he submitted to what was next, grabbing Marcus’ arse. His left middle finger finding its way to the rosebud, feeling out of body, dominant for once with a sexual partner.
Marcus broke the kiss, growling. “Turn around” as he held Ben’s hips, Ben was now behind the changing door, opposite a bench. Instinctively, he leaned to place his palms, arse elevated as Marcus’ tongue moved hungrily into his anus. Tongue rolled thin, gently penetrating as the five o clock shadow grazed between his cheeks. Marcus’ breathing, groaning, insatiability for his hole giving a different height of pleasure in the chlorinated, damp, brightly lit communal area. Ben wanted to be ravished. Used. Watched. Fucked.
When Marcus moved his tongue down to Ben’s testicles and gently cupped around his erection, it felt all too much. Ben gasped as a squeak from a door stopped them both. Ben’s eyes wide in panic, lust, Marcus’s crows feet pressed as he smirked, giggling, tongue pressed against his teeth. He placed a finger to Ben’s lips and told him to wait exactly where he was. Ben nodded, smirked and sat down. The door left ajar, he sat down on the bench, legs wide, wanking, waiting for the next move.
Marcus returned with his changing bag. With some rummaging, he produced a bottle of liquid silk. “I don’t know about you but I think we both want me inside you”.
Ben nodded, breath heavy. “I haven’t…”
“If you’re game, im game. We can shower after. And I’m on prep”
“I’m not but… I’m clean and it’s… been a while”
Marcus’ face moved from one of ravishment to concern as he kissed him. Moving his hands to Ben’s tight buns, starting to release with the gentle confident force that his fingers were bringing. Between their savage snogging and as Marcus worked a finger gently into Ben, they locked eyes after Ben’s rolled with the intensity.
“Don’t worry Ben. Daddy's gonna look after you”
Ben could have melted in that moment, instead softly moaning and turning around, ass up waiting for Marcus to enter him deeply. This was the first time in a while he’d be fucked, quivers of panic rode through his body as he thought of Marcus’ girth as a new frontier. But the pleasure and desire, need even, kept him from stopping this.
Marcus applied lube generously to his throbbing cock, and to his fingers before he started to slowly move back to fingering Ben, one finger then two from behind as he pushed his boner against him, kissing him from behind. All this time little activity could be heard from the changing room, although Ben had a burning desire for this to be recorded, watched, a fan fare even. It was the scene and situation of a fantasy he hadn’t pondered a reality.
With a check on whether he was ready, Ben nodded as Marcus slowly entered him. The feeling of pain, overwhelm, pleasure, then hunger overcame in the first few slow thrusts as Marcus started to fuck him, both standing, Marcus nibbling on his ear as he tweaked Ben’s nipples. Ben could feel his prostate bloom with the thrust of Marcus’ moist, hard, huge member and couldn’t help but let out slow, quiet shrieks of pleasure. Marcus grunted diligently, assuring Ben that he was also having the time of his life.
Moving to press against the changing room wall, Marcus turned Ben around to fuck him in a squat with his legs raised before he expertly clipped the foldable changing board down, and carried Ben onto it. Both giggling, Marcus started to fuck him sharper, deeper in the missionary position, bringing both of them to greater heights. Legs floating in the air over his shoulders, Marcus moved Ben’s feet so his left big toe was putting pressure on his right nipple, and brought his right foot toward his mouth, as he started to gently bite and suck on his toes. Ben generally ticklish, vanilla, more dominant, he felt himself slip away into new heights of pleasure as he let Marcus control him. Before it all started to become too much, the hand on his cock felt all too much as the pace of Marcus’ penis began to increase, both rising to an edge. Ben moaned helplessly, wondering if and when he could come down from this high.
Marcus, with both of Ben’s big toes tickling at his nipples leaned across to kiss him, going deeper as Ben’s eyes started to roll back. They both could have spoken about how close they were, but there was a connection and passion deep within both that their eye contact, lip biting and breath increasing started to syncronise as they both reached a climax, grunting quietly to ensure that any new changing fellows would get an idea of their rutting.
Marcus shot ropes deep inside Ben, as Ben followed shortly after shooting the week load burning within him, hitting his shoulder, the wall behind the changing cubicle, his chest. As Marcus brought his cock out of Ben and taking his legs from his shoulder, they broke the deep, tongue wrapping kiss that sealed their intensities and catching of breath. Marcus grabbed a towel from the kit bag to wipe himself sitting on the bench before passing it on to Ben. Marcus grabbed his phone, opened the dial pad and passed it to Ben as he popped his speedo on.
“I’ve got to get a few lengths in but… can we do this again?”
Ben smirked, accepting the phone and putting in his number. The time was 14:07. The long, summer day still ahead of himself on the outside. Weak, energised, stunned, Ben took a long shower under the open head with Marcus before he pecked him on the cheek, squeezed his arse and wished him a good day. Cock confidently at half mast and some clear red marks on his arse from where Marcus had just opened up a new sexual awakening in him, he was ready to embark on further slutty ventures that lay ahead. Or if he could be so lucky with the next man he made eye contact with at the pool.
