The chilly air rolled off of Lake Michigan into my quiet Chicago suburb and threatened us with yet another blizzard. I could see my breath materialize before me into faint wisps of steam, yet my body was still on fire. Our track coach told us that all distance runners were required to compete in a half-marathon later that month. I had just finished a seven mile a run, and couldn't wait to take off these sweats, despite the freezing temperatures. I told myself I hated running, and would never do it in college next year, but I actually loved the mental fight. And since I received a scholarship to run at a university in downtown Chicago, I would take advantage of it. I had wanted to move out since last September when I turned 18. I dreamed of going to Boston, far away from home, but at least my parents hate downtown Chicago, so I wouldn't have to see them everyday.
My high school's athletic hallway is typically packed for most of the evening, yet it was empty today; basketball season had just finished, and spring sports hadn't started yet. I walked into the locker room and was greeted by a similar emptiness. The only sound was of one shower running in the back.
I took off my sweats, and my jockstrap and t shirt were predictably soaked with sweat. I pulled them off and sat on a bench to wrestle my wet socks off my feet. I was confident that nobody would walk in anytime soon, so I went about my business in the buff. And what if they did? I wouldn't have cared anyway. I worked out twice a day these last two years, and was in the best shape of my life. I walked in front of a sink and looked at the sweat glistening on my washboard abdomen. "This body deserves to be shown off!" I thought sarcastically. I grabbed a towel and headed to the showers. I noticed a pile of clothes sitting at the other end of the bench, along with a familiar pair of neon green Adidas gym shoes. I smiled faintly: Parker.
The showers were divided into twenty separate stalls with curtains, and only one at the very back was running. I slowly walked towards it and crouched down. Based on the skin tone, I could tell that those feet probably belonged to Parker. Just to be sure, I asked.
"Parker?".
"Yeah? Who's that?" replied Parker's voice.
I didn't respond but instead dropped my towel, and charged through the curtain. When Parker saw this, he jumped back in the corner of the shower stall shouting obscenities... until he realized it was me. He then grabbed me by the hips and gave a dirty smile. I grabbed his firm ass and pulled myself up against his body. I was 6'4", and he was only about 5'7", so my hard cock rest between our abdomens, and his still soft cock slide beneath my balls.
I gave his lips a quick peck and pulled away. He leaned forward towards my face and kissed me passionately. As he pulled away, I bit his lower lip, pulled him back in and met his tongue with mine. He forced his tongue in to my mouth, and mine in his. It was a fight. Aggression turned me on, and made him go crazy.
This whole time, I could feel his cock getting hard beneath my balls. Our embrace remained close, and his dick pushed my balls up towards my body, and curved up around my ass. I had never noticed that there was a curve to his cock, but I sure felt it now. It was thicker than I remembered, too. I would guess he was about 8" long, and proportional in width. He was half black, and it showed both in his light, caramel color, and thick, veiny cock.
I pushed my hips on his and forced him against the cool, tiled wall of the shower stall. I could tell the tile was cold. He shuddered and his back arched off the wall, pushing his hips back against mine. I savored the felling of his thick penis rubbing between my balls and against the start of my anus. He pushed me back against the wall of the shower. I hit my head against the shower head, and it hurt quite badly. We let go for a second. He could tell I was pissed and his face looked apologetic. Not apologizing for hurting me, but for potentially ruining the moment.
I stared him down for a split second: he was shorter than me, yet bulkier and more muscular. His abs, legs and ass weren't quite as tone as mine, yet he was definitely stronger than me. I was lanky and tall, yet well toned with lean muscle. He was stockier and stronger. I found him incredibly sexy.
"I'm sorry," he quickly said.
"I'm not," I replied.
My expression of anger was subtly morphed into one of aggressive, devious lust. Parker saw this, and his frown changed similarly. I grabbed his back and he grabbed my ass. I forced myself on him with a kiss more intense, fiery, and forceful than anything I had every experienced with another person. So much energy, drive and passion were flowing between us that I truly believed we were forced together by some unspoken, physical law of intimate gravity. It was like an electric field. We tried to fight, to pull ourselves away from each other, but that only made the force stronger. Parker let out an exhausted moan. I never noticed until now how much I loved his voice. Hearing that imperfect, vulnerable sound of love and lust drove me absolutely mad for him.