The next day at the Gym, he was there. I watched him carefully from the corner of my eye as he lifted. And as I saw him sit back and take a break, I knew he was nearly done. I left for the locker room and fumbled about hoping I hadn't misread his moves to finish up. And then he walked in. I made a split decision then and there, hiding my shower gel.
I stripped off, urging my dick not to get hard, heading to the showers to be able to make it clear that I wasn't following him.
I stood under the stream of hot water at the right side of the room, where he'd stood before (we're creatures of habit, right?)
I hoped to a god I actually don't believe in that he'd come in. And then he arrived, striding in, his sweaty body pumped and glistening in the halogen light from the spots above. His long cock swayed back and forth, slapping against his thick thighs, the balls behind low and smooth.
I washed slowly and turned beneath the spray as he took the spot a few feet away from me, hooking his shower gel on the small shelf on the wall and throwing his towel to the bench in the middle of the room.
I spent a few minutes contemplating my move, wondering if there would be a communication problem , or if he would be able to beat the shit out of me. I figured he could try, but we were pretty well matched in build and I could move quickly.
I went for it and waited until he was facing me but not looking toward me, and then I asked if I could use his shower gel because I'd forgotten mine. In clearly developed English he answered "yeah" and handed it to me with a smile.
Wahoo! I was in! The ice was broken and as I lathered up with his gel my comfort and confidence was boosted.
I continued the chat, asking if he enjoyed it there. It turned out he'd been in the UK since he was a teen, and had moved to London with his building company (I know, a Polish builder. But that's the deal). We exchanged names and shook hands. Marcin turned out to be a friendly and open guy.
It was actually really strange, I almost forgot about that gorgeous dick of his as we chatted over the sound of rushing water. Other guys came in and briefly showered. Time passed. But as he talked and looked down to tug that foreskin back and wash his thick cock I felt my own dick twitch and almost lost track of the conversation.
But we persisted, and I managed to keep my throbbing cock to a semi, even after I noticed that his actions had caused his cock to thicken and curve out a little.
We both finished up at the same time, still chatting about London, girls, the clubs, everything. We dried off and headed back into the locker room, talking like we'd known each other for a while.
Something I would normally have reserved for the next meeting suddenly spilled out. You see, normally I'd take my time, not to seem too eager. An option of hanging out together would normally be brought up in the third meeting, once we're both comfortable with each other. But for some reason I let this go and took the next big step.
Talking about cubs, I mentioned one I go to and suggested he try it out. He answered that he'd get lost and be wondering around London for days. So I invited him to join me the following week. Note for all you novices out there: I told him I'd split with my girlfriend and needed to pull. We exchanged numbers.
A week later I nervously gave him a call and suggested that Saturday night.
He eagerly agreed, suggesting we meet up at the station.
Long story short, we went, he pulled within half an hour, and was gone within two hours.
I left and called up a buddy and met up for an outside jerk on the way home.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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