Patience Rewarded

I knew the moment the cute little blond twink strolled into my storefront gym that I was going to have him, but by the way he shrank away from me and trembled a bit when I approached him, I also knew I would have to prepare for that moment well.

"Hi, I'm Rod." I said pleasantly. "I run this place and act as personal trainer. And who are you and what are you interested in?"

I had hoped that he'd say right out that he wanted to be fucked by a horse-hung muscle stud like me, but he didn't respond to that innuendo.

"Hi, Rod. I'm Craig. I'm tired of everyone thinking I'm too young to buy beer. I want to bulk up."

"You mean something like this?" I said, and I pulled my gym T over my head. I could hear Craig gasp when he saw my massive, well-cut torso.

"Y-e-s-s," he stammered out.

"Well, let's see what we have to work with," I said pleasantly. "Off with that T-shirt."

He stripped his T off, and I could tell right off that he wouldn't bulk up very much, although we could do something with those pecs and abs. But I also saw that I wouldn't want him to bulk up too much. He was one beautiful twink. It set my cock to twitching just to see him.

But I told him that I could help him if he came in twice a week. And he did that for the next two months, during which time I unfolded my plan to have my cock pulsating inside his cute little bod. I gave him a lot of personal attention, telling him that I wanted him to go shirtless in his workouts so I could see what was being worked out and how well in the exercises and that I would go shirtless as well so he could see what muscles were being worked with the exercises. And I gave him plenty of muscle work to see during the workouts—all except for the one muscle I really wanted him to see. I took care of that by hitting the showers whenever he did and giving him a full display.

For the first couple of weeks he remained ultrasensitive to my touching him or even coming close, but I was persistent in needing to put my hands on him to show him how to do the exercises properly, and slowly but surely he let me touch him and, with time and confidence, to let my hands linger on the curves and folds of his torso and legs during the exercises. And he was lingering longer in the shower as well. One evening after two months of preparation, I began to slowly stroke out my cock while we were in the shower and I was sure he was ogling me sideways. His eyes bugged out and he dropped the soap. When he bent over to pick it up, I almost took him then, but I didn't. Others were in the gym. I needed to wait a bit longer, and needed him to signal his willingness.

On his next visit, I decided to bring this to a new level. We were over in the corner of the room, away from the storefront picture window and everyone else working out was focused on their own exercising. I had Craig laying down on his back, bench pressing a barbell.

"No, no, Craig," I said. "You're putting too much leg in it. Here, let me show you how to get the power into your shoulders and pecs, which is what you want to be developing here."

I squatted down on the bench, facing him, and pushed my knees under his thighs, pushing his legs over mine and out. I spread the palms of my hands on his tender inner thighs. "There, try it like that."

He huffed and puffed for a few minutes, barely getting the barbell up, concentrating hard. But then I started to gently stroke his inner thighs with my fingers and he was suddenly concentrating on something else. He started to tremble all over and he couldn't get the barbell fully extended.

"No, you're trying to get the power from your stomach, Craig. It must be from your chest and shoulders. Don't arch your back. Here, now try it." I moved one of my hands to his flat little belly and held him down on the board. He was trying his best to raise the barbell, but not having much luck.

"It's no use, Rod," he whimpered. "I can't get it up."

"It doesn't look to me like you are having trouble getting it up, Craig," I said, as my hand slid down to his basket. I admit that I was a little surprised myself. In the shower he had present a pert little prick, like a chaste Greek statue, but now he was filling out nicely in that department.

Craig sat up in panic. "Please, don't, Rod. I can't do it." His body was shaking like a leap and he couldn't look me in the face. His gaze was glued to my hand cupping his basket.

I took one of his hands in mine and guided it to my own basket. He gasped and tried to pull away but I didn't let him. "Well, when you can do it, this is what is waiting for you, Craig."

He jerked his hand away, jumped off the bench, and bustled back to the dressing room. He was back in a moment with his clothes hurriedly stuffed in his gym bag, not even having showered, and escaped out the door.

All the next day, I wondered if I had acted too quickly, but right before closing time, there he was again. He'd never come two days in a row and never this late. He stayed over to the side, well away from me, working out with hand weights until the last of the other patrons had left.

"We're closing now," I said as I picked up my duffel bag and walked by him on the way to the door.

"I think I can do it now," was all he said, in a small, distant voice. He looked so vulnerably twinky even after all those weeks of working out.

I continued on to the door and locked it from the inside, and then I returned and took his hand and led him to the hallway leading to the dressing rooms, where we couldn't be seen through the storefront window.

I pushed his back against the wall, while I stripped off my T and shorts. I then pushed him down on his knees and leaned close into him at the wall, holding him prisoner there with my strong thighs. I pushed my engorging cock past his lips and made him work me up big. He was gagging and choking, but he did a good, fast job of it. Then I pulled him back up to his feet, flipped him around, belly to the wall, and covered his soft little twinky body, with my hard muscled one. My cock was running up the small of his back and I stroked it up and down his back while my hands groped his body in a frenzy. He was moaning and sighing and hiccupping, his body all atremble. I went down on my knees behind him and pushed my tongue between his pert little butt cheeks. I pushed his legs apart while I flicked my tongue in his sweet little asshole. I stroked his inner thighs with my fingers, which he enjoyed immensely, and reached through and milked his cock from delicately small to presentably hard; after he'd hardened, he came almost immediately in my hand with a twitch and a lurch.

Then I opened my bag and took out a tube of lube and a condom packet. lubed his ass and fingered his hole, working on opening him to me, while my teeth nipped at his now-rosy butt cheeks. Then I rolled the condom on my huge tool and started working my way into his ass, full of lust now, not giving it enough time. He screamed and cried, but declined all offers for me to stop or slow down. I allowed him to widen his stance and arch his back, my hands going to his pecs and nipples, but entry was still being difficult. I couldn't wait.

I kicked the duffel bag over to the middle of the hall, and took Craig's lithe little body in my hands by his hips and turned him and pushed his pelvis down onto the duffel. His cute little butt was pointed up in the air now, and I came down between his legs and into him. Entry was easier now, and I filled him to the limit and rocked him back and forth on duffel as my pulsating cock rode his ass hard in six long strokes that were crowned with repeated gushes of man juice, my cry of fulfilled patience mingling with his screams of realized ecstasy. Months of preparation for no more than fifteen minutes of frenzied quickie fuck from first feel to gush.

All of the waiting and preparation were well worth the reward, though, and now that I had won the prize, I could savor it. I covered Craig's trembling body with mine, pulled his legs in with mine to tighten his already-tight ass, and rocked my pelvis back and forth on his buttocks. We cuddled and whispered sweet nothings to each other as I reloaded. And when I had filled him out again with my battering ram, I fucked him there astride the duffel bag on the hall carpet a second time and then a third time in long, lingering strokes, accompanied by the music of his falsetto purring.