With my new job I had to move away from all my family and friends, almost a thousand miles away. It was an opportunity I just couldn't pass up, though it was taking me out of my comfort zone. I'm a bit of an introvert. I'm good if I know you or comfortable with you, but strangers I clammed up. Oddly enough, I'm in public relations.
I moved into a nice one bedroom at an apartment complex that had just about every I needed. It had a gym, laundry, grocery and restaurants close by. The building was full of single young professionals like myself, so you would think it would have been easy to make friends. It wasn't.
We were all busy with our own lives and work to actually socialize with one another. I was no exception. Having starting my job in the middle of major project, I worked long hours and rarely saw anyone in the hallways. After two weeks I was in desperate need to do laundry and burn off some stress.
I had a few fuck buddies back home, but I hadn't had a chance to find someone to scratch that itch here. Without something clean to wear, I wasn't about to. So Friday, after work, I grabbed a load of clothes and headed to the laundry. There was already one machine going, so I wasn't the only one needing to do laundry.
I started one machine with one load, headed back to get the next and so forth till I had four machines going. I was playing some stupid game on my phone when the owner of the one machine I hadn't taken over came to get his clothes. I tried not to stare but it was near impossible not to.
He was gorgeous with short dirty blond hair, dark five o'clock shadow and huge. I mean bodybuilder huge. He had to top at least six foot and his arms were as thick as me, not that I was all that thick for skinny white boy, but you get the idea. When he bent over to pull his cloths out the machine, I was certain his pants were going to rip.
That's when I noticed the funny underwear line. They definitely weren't boxers or trunks, it was too small. The line didn't match up with someone wearing a jock or briefs. He was definitely wearing something, I just couldn't figure out what it was. Then I saw some women's underwear in his clothes that he quickly covered.
"His girl must have put some of her things in with his." I shrugged mentally returning to my game before I was caught. He ignored me, putting the clothes in one of the dryers before leaving me as his unintentional watchdog. One by one, I transferred my clothes from the washers to the dryers, my loads surrounding his single load.
I watched our clothes tumble about, noticing he had a lot of women's underwear mixed in his laundry. A thought crossed my mind, but when he barged in twenty minutes later, testosterone dripping off him, I brushed the thought aside. I did find myself staring at those casaba melons he had and their weird underwear line.
When he left, he gave me some butch nod as if just now noticing little me was here before he headed out. It didn't surprise me that he probably didn't see me till then. When you're a skinny five foot five guy most people missed you, add the glasses and quiet demeanor in public, I was virtually invisible to people.
After spending Friday night washing, drying and folding laundry, I decided Saturday I would check out the complex's gym. They had shown it to me when I first looked at the place, and when I moved it, and it was pretty nice. It had all the basic equipment, but most importantly it had a treadmill.
According to the building manager it was rarely used by the tenants because they preferred to spend money to be seen at the fancy gym down the street, which was fine by me. So, I was alone that Saturday morning. At first. I plugged my headphones in, stretched and just started running. Then the laundry hunk came in.
I saw in the mirror that he was a bit surprised to see me there. I gave a curtsy nod and kept running. He replied in same, his face showing the contemplation of whether to stay or go before he finally deciding to stay. If he figured out I was Gay, he must have also figured out there was no way in the world I'd ever be a threat to him given our size difference.
He wore a douche bag string tank and short shorts that showed off his massive legs. I tried not to focus on him, but he was directly behind me. My eyes watched as he did his first squat, doing triple my weight. I admired his firm taut buttocks, moving up to see the top of his underwear. I almost fell off the treadmill. He was wearing a pink thong.
I tried not to stare, but I was drawn to that small flash of color. I was enthralled with the idea of that soft silk, no, satin fabric nestled in those hard muscles. I bet he felt the tug of the fabric in his groin when he dipped down low. I wondered if he walked around his place in just that thong, and if he wore other things.
I grew hard thinking about it. I was grateful for the tight jock that held it and my boys in place. I couldn't take my eyes off his lowering rear, catching the briefest flashes before he stood, making it vanish from sight. Over and over again, I watched it appear and disappear. Sweat was pouring off my body because I wouldn't, no, couldn't stop staring at it.
The treadmill timer made my decision for me. I almost slammed into it when it started slowing down. I did my cool down and Panty Boy, as I had taken to calling him, moved to a chest press. I watched as he pushed out, his muscles bulging, his face showing the strain of the heavy weight. I couldn't stay any longer. He was turning me on too much.
I wiped down the machine and bolted from the gym. I had to get off. I didn't think he was doing it on purpose, but he was cock teasing me. I slammed my door behind me, headed straight to my bedroom with a trail of my discarded clothes behind me. I tossed myself onto the bed and didn't waste a minute to grab my aching eight inch cock and furiously stroked one out thinking of Panty Boy's thong between those delicious muscled cheeks.
I had never shot so quickly or so hard in my life. My stomach and chest were splattered in my excitement, but my balls still felt full, needing to be emptied. I laid there panting, coated in sweat and semen, too exhausted to get up. The softness of the bed took me, and I fell asleep with lustful thoughts about Panty Boy.
I woke up sticky, stinky, hungry and still horny. I took care of the first two in the shower and was tempted to take care of a third as well. Hunger beat horny out. I got dressed, ordering my cock to behave. I walked out of the complex, not even realizing I was looking for some hint of Panty Boy.
