I've been very stressed the past few years. My partner has been dealing with deep depression and related problems. I've been standing by him through all of this. Whenever I see him suffer, I feel so indescribably sad that I could not envision abandoning him. It's not very surprising that I've put on so much weight. When I met David, I could stroll naked along the beach at Fire Island and get stares. Now I feel like _s_h_i_t_. It was time to go back to the gym and straighten out my life.
Peter is one of the personal trainers there. I know myself. In the beginning, I need a lot of motivation. Once I get into a pattern, I'll be able to maintain a good program. I hired Peter for 10 sessions. For the first three weeks, I figured I'd use him twice a week, and then go to once.
I noticed immediately that I respond to Peter in a certain way. When I was a kid, I wished I had a big brother. He'd have been that perfect big brother for me. Peter is playful and bold, not afraid to express himself. While he's into teasing and being aggressive, there's also something very sweet about him. His looks are very all-American. He's six feet tall, and almost no body fat, but he isn't a huge mass of muscles. He's got a slender build. His shoulders aren't overly huge, though I have no doubt he's way stronger than I was at my best. His thighs are large and well muscled . I like that in a guy. Peter has straight blonde hair, a little long in the back. I trusted him immediately, intuitively. He had a great smile.
We were doing some floor work. Peter wanted me to do some sit-ups with my knees bent, and he was showing me how he wanted me to do it. When I tried it, I think I was pulling up wrong. He put his hand on my abdomen. "Here," he said. "Don't pull your lower back up when you're doing it. Try it now." I noticed how huge his hand was. Something jolted in me. Somewhere deep inside, I saw something I wanted. No, this was something I hungered for. That one moment, I saw that it was possible to have this thing. My whole body felt like it was filled with electicity. My penis got REALLY stiff. It was all uncontrollable, like when I was an adolescent.
I got so embarrassed. I quickly rolled over on my side and wouldn't look at Peter. I told him I just needed a moment. "I just have to get my focus back," I said, trying to sound very nonchalant. Peter stopped for exactly half a second, and looked surprised. Then he responded in a way which made me feel my heart nearly burst. "It's okay. It happens. Just tell me when you're ready to begin." There was that big brother smile again. I felt safe.
We finished up the workout, and I hit the steamroom. I was the only guy in there. I sat naked on the wood bench with the towel over my lap. I thought about what happened. I got hard again, just imagining Peter taking me and holding me. Then I got scared that someone would come in. I tried to distract myself. Then I decided to focus on my breathing as if I was doing yoga. I got calm after a bit. Still, there was a tension in my groin that seemed to be begging for release. Of course, I would never have this release. At least that was what I figured.
Even during _s_e_x_ with my lover, nothing touched this certain place in me. There was something I needed, I acknowledged to myself while walking home from the gym. I'm 41, yet I feel like a child. I'm always trying to be so strong. Given my background, and my crazy dysfunctional parents, that isn't very surprising. I thought, when I came out five years back, I was finally handing what I needed. Now I realize, there are sometimes different sides to one's _s_e_x_uality. No wonder gay men are so notorious for having open relationships. Men aren't afraid of exploring their deepest _s_e_x_ual needs. They learn that not all your needs can be filled by one person. Then you have to make a choice. Do you satisfy that deep craving, or do you stay faithful and not risk damaging your relationship with the man you choose to build your life with?
Over the next week, I explored that question. As I asked myself what I wanted to do, what would be right for me, I found that craving emerging ever more powerfully. The next couple of workouts were strained. I put up that wall. I didn't even realize I was doing it. I just knew I did not want to get embarrassed again, and was trying to act like nothing was there. Peter knew something was wrong. He looked at me, trying to pierce the veil, patiently waiting for the moment when he would figure it out.
I guess Peter is a very perceptive guy. He's very bright, and well educated. He's not some typical Brooklyn type of guy. I grew up in Brooklyn, and I love it here, but I know plenty of guys who fit this description. THey're the ones who never left Brooklyn when they were teenagers to go hang out in the city. They were the same guys who got messed up with drugs and got some girl pregnant, and have no dreams beyond the borders of their little world, except for occasional vacation plans. They think they're really made it when they get some halfway decent money, and can go to Atlantic City every weekend, and marry some uptight woman who will bitch about the stupidest crap. When I signed up for a trainer, I expected to get one of these guys with a dead-end life. Peter is different. He's from Long Island. He had two older brothers, and a reasonably happy life. What really blows me away is he's so calm and relaxed. He's okay with himself. He's the kind of guy I didn't think existed.
As our training session began, something felt different. I didn't recognize it, but Peter had figured something out. He finally had me pegged in a way that nobody had ever figured me out. I'm very dominating normally. In conversations, I tend to be the center of things. Not only am I loud, but I know a lot. I know more than most anyone I encounter, and I have a wide range of interests. I'm both very creative, and very analytical. I taught myself algebra from a textbook with no assistance from anyone. I'm also a natural actor. I read science articles and get where they're jumping to the wrong conclusions. I come up with my own creative approaches to genetics. Hell, I tried picking up some pastels just to see if my creativity would extend in every direction. My pictures lacked skill, but an art teacher I know said I had a great sense of color and layout. People tell me to frame my work. My interest in drawing only lasted a few months, but it reinforced my belief that there is nothing I can't do except throw and catch. I grew up hating sports and thinking I wasn't very athletic. A few years ago, I realized that isn't true. I'm a powerful swimmer, and I'm very intuitive at things like yoga, tai chi, and dancing. I have a great body-sense, but I just have no hand-eye coordination. Don't even ask me to touch a video game.
I'd been told I was a genius since I was three years old, and when I was a kid, I was afraid they were wrong about me. I was sure they'd eventually figure out that I wasn't as smart as they thought. Over the years, however, I realized just how dumb everyone else is. That's when I started getting that I really am smarter than everyone I know. Some people think I'm the most interesting person they've met. Others think I'm arrogant. What Peter had figured out, without me realizing it, is that I need to be in control.
I was Peter's last session that night. Our workout was not spectacular, just like the last couple. I was getting frustrated, and wondering if this was going to work for me. It was a small gym, and I was the only person in the shower. Here I was thinking about Peter's hands on me, and trying to not get an erection, when a voice broke the silence and startled me. When I saw Peter's face, it sent a shudder through me. It was like he was getting inside my thoughts. He knew something. I could feel it.
"I want to talk to you. I think I understand what you need." I felt my muscles get weak as he said this. I felt anxiety loom up in my groin. My penis suddenly raged out of control. I turned to the side, so he shouldn't see. He walked up to the open stall slowly, intentionally. Then he put his hand on my butt. I felt his sweetness, his compassion, coming through that gentle caress. "It's okay," he said. "You don't have to be afraid." Then he gently touched my erect penis, and took his hand away.
I didn't know what to say. I turned around and let him see my penis. I opened myself to him, and my eyes melted. "Not here," he told me. Finish up and meet me outside.
We walked to his house, which was five minutes away. He had an apartment in one of the brownstones on a prime block here in Carroll Gardens. I felt so nervous as we walked. I also felt so alive, like some energy was welling up in me. I felt like a little boy. We didn't talk at all. Peter just smiled calmly. We got into his apartment, and he locked the door. Then he sat down on a big fluffy easy chair.
"Come over here." He had that big brother voice that made me feel like I"m melting. I did as he told me. I felt more trust for him than ever before. I knew he would not hurt me in any way. "Unbutton your pants." I did this, not saying a single word. He looked up at my face. I felt my heart pounding in my chest. I couldn't believe this was happening. Then Peter reached over and, with both hands, gently pulled my pants down.
My penis was bigger than I ever remember it being. I felt _d_a_m_n_ close to bursting. He gave me hug. It felt powerful as he pressed his chest against me. I loved this man as I've loved nobody in my life. Then he released his hold. He looked at me and said: "I can see that you need this. I want you to know I'm doing this out of love. I want to give you what you need, so you can be the person you really want to be." I listened intently, seriously. Nobody ever spoke to me like this. Nobody could.
Then Peter pulled my underwear down, just as lovingly as he took down my pants. I stood for a moment, naked and trembling. I wasn't scared, however. Something inside me told me he was going to goive me exactly what I want. It was far deeper than _s_e_x_. It was nothing like making love to my partner.
With his left hand, he lifted up the back of my shirt, and lay his huge palm just above the small of my back. With the simplest gesture. I knew what he wanted me to do. He pressed me to turn to the side, and lay across his lap. He held my shoulder down with his right hand and forearm, and rested his left hand on my buttocks. "You know that you need this, right?" I felt like I was going to cry. My body started trembling fiercely, and I came clost to having an involuntary orgasm. "Yes, I told him," realizing it for the first time. This is what I need. Then the spanking began.
It was slow at first. One swat on the left cheek, then one swat on the right. He waited for my response each time. "Ouch!"
"Ow!"
"Oh, my god." Then my body began to relax deeply and I let myself surrender to his lap. I was now completely in his control.
The spanking began to intensify. Faster. Harder. More serious. I stopped making any sounds at all. Finally it built to a crescendo. The dam burst inside me. My orgasm was fierce and powerful. Semen poured out of me as my whole body suddered, and I began to cry.
Peter stopped spanking me. He lifted my shirt up and gently massaged me from my neck down to the insides of my thighs. His touch was deeply reassuring. I wanted nothing more than to lie here with his hands on me. He ruffled my hair, and gently touched my cheeks. Then he gave me a little nudge to tell me to get up.
I saw the cum all over his jeans, and tried to quickly wipe it off. "Don't worry about it," he said. I stood up, my pants still around my ankles. I turned to look at Peter. I smiled, glowing. He hugged me again and smiled. "Pull your pants up," he told me. I had a slightly disappointed look on my face. He noticed this. "Don't worry. I'm still here for you. I'm your friend, Simon. A friend who knows you very deeply. BUt we're not going to be lovers, so don't feel bad about that."
"I know," I told him. That isn't what I want from you." I pulled my pants up. I have a boyfriend. He's a lot of trouble, but I love him. I love making love to him, and having him making love to me. What I got from you is something very different."
"I understand," Peter said to me, smiling and nodding his head. "And I'm going to push your ass to get back in shape, so don't think you can get lazy now."
"I promise," I said, and I really meant it.
"That's good, cause if you _f_u_c_k_ up, I'm going to have you back over my lap, and this time it will be painful." I felt my groin shudder when he said this to me.
"Well, you'll do what you have to," I replied. Then I started to head to the door. I stopped, and stood for a second.
"What's the problem," Peter asked me."
I turned around. "There's just one thing I want. Something I want to do."
"What is it?"
"Can I give you a blow job?"
He looked at me and thought for a minute. Then he smiled, and unbottuned his pants. "Sure."
I gave Peter an amazing blow job. As I licked his penis up and down, I thought about being over his lap. I thought about how much I loved him. I thought about how much he gave me, and how much I wanted to give him back. He moaned intensely, appreciating how good it felt. I licked his balls, and his thighs. I massaged his penis with my tongue as I held it fully inside my mouth for seconds at a time, finishing up with some pleasant suction, before releasing him. Then, when he came in my mouth, I swallowed, smiling inside at knowing how happy I was making him. We hugged again, and he put his hand inside my pants, carressing my cheeks. Then I left, looking forward to our next session at the gym.
The End