Adam and Kyle Ch. 03

I kicked off my shoes and peeled off my remaining clothes and put them in a plastic bag that was already in my locker. I wrapped the towel around my waist and headed towards the showers. The showers—like the rest of the facility—were very high end. There were individual tiled showers, with half-walls separating each stall so one couldn't see the person next to them from the waist down unless they were actively trying.

The other two older gentlemen in the showers gave me a nod as if to say "hello" as I turned on the showerhead. Within seconds, the water was rather warm so I stepped in the stall, removed my towel, and stood directly under the refreshing warm water. I ran my fingers through my hair and closed my eyes as I softly massaged my scalp. My god, this feels good.

"Hey Maurice, you ready to go," one of the older men shouted to the other.

"You read my mind. Layla wants you over for lunch, though."

I still remained under the showerhead massaging my shoulders when I heard the other two men turn off their showers and leave. I had never more thoroughly enjoyed a shower than I was right at that moment. I looked around; there was no one in sight, and instinctively, my hand went for my already filling cock. Just thinking about Sam was enough for me to sprout wood and I figured now was as good time as any to get some release. I mean, if I was gonna have lunch with the guy, I certainly wouldn't want to have a complete hard-on underneath the table the whole time.

I had just wrapped my hand around my cock when someone spoke to me.

"There you are."

I didn't have to turn around to know who was standing there--his voice alone was a dead ringer—but I did anyway. There he was in his utter sexiness. His hair was still a mess, but it only made him look sexier. I hadn't really seen his chest earlier in the locker room seeing as how I was looking at something else, but like everything else on him, it was perfect. He had perfect pecs, a defined six-pack, and a yummy treasure trail leading to his damn near perfect cock which was conveniently covered by a towel around his waist.

"I checked if you were already in the lobby but since you weren't there yet, I figured I'd take a shower," he said as he entered the stall right next to me.

Jesus. Twenty shower stalls and he has to use the one right next to me. That's all I needed; my boss to see me with a hard-on.

"Heh, great minds think alike I guess. It was just so damn hot out there today," I said nervously.

I made sure to avoid eye-to-eye and eye-to-penis contact as he stepped into the stall and removed his towel.

"You'll get used to it in a week or two," he said while turning on the water.

"Yeah, I hope so. I mean, I'm a wrestler so I'm not really used to being out in the sun all day."

Hell, I figured small talk would help me fight off the relentless need of dropping to my knees and sucking him off.

"You're a wrestler, eh? Well you must be in pretty good shape then."

I acknowledged his question with some sort of grunting nod, making sure that I was entirely focused on the "Cold" water knob and not looking at the water cascading all over his rock-hard body.

He reached for the mini-bottle of shampoo sitting on the shower divider and squeezed a large dollop of it in his hand. He closed his eyes and began to massage it into his scalp. I figured it's now or never.

The second he closed his eyes, I completely drank him in. I noted the relaxed look on his face, his long, lean fingers massaging his scalp, the way his muscles flexed with every move he made, his slightly hardened nipples and the dark brown treasure trail that complemented his perfect abs. I didn't dare peek over the shower divider for fear that he would waken from his pleasurable stupor and catch me stealing a glance of his perfect cock.

"So are we still on?"

I damn near fell on my ass I was so startled. He hadn't opened his eyes to talk to me.

"Wha-- Huh?"

I felt like a fool. I felt like he caught me, yet again. Like he somehow had X-Ray vision and could see me even though his eyes were closed.

"For lunch." He opened his eyes and I felt weak at the sight of those baby blues.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Of course. There's this little pizza place my best friend works at if you're game."

"Sure. Pizza sounds great."

I gulped loudly and turned off the water.

"Okay, I'll meet you in the lobby."

He nodded.

I was halfway out of the showers when I realized I didn't have any extra clothes, only the sweaty ones I wore during class.

I quickly turned on my heel, making sure to avoid eye contact but managing to look in his general direction. "Uh, I just realized I don't have any extra clothes with me. Is it okay if we stop off at my place so I could change?"

"If you want to, but I have some extra clothes in my locker you could use if you want."

"Oh, okay. Thanks."

I fast-walked back to my locker and just sat on the changing bench thinking about what a fool I was. First, for saying that I would go to lunch with him—at Kyle's place of employment—and secondly, for not bringing any extra clothes with me.

"Whatever," I muttered to myself. I walked a few lockers down until I hit Sam's. The locker was ajar, so I just swung it open, and true to his word, there was an extra t-shirt and shorts. I looked around the locker room making sure that no one was lurking anywhere and quickly dropped the towel and threw on the shorts and shirt. Wearing Sam's shorts with no underwear made me feel inexplicably turned on. I was closing the locker when some pictures caught my eye.

I recognized Sam immediately even though his hair was much longer in the pictures. There were several photos of him and a woman—presumably his girlfriend—at various outings. Of course, as expected, she was just as gorgeous as he was. The same thick brown wavy hair, chocolate-brown eyes, sensuously thick lips, ultra-long legs and a tiny waist; she looked like she belonged in a Victoria's Secret catalog. There was a picture of them at the beach—Sam wearing ridiculously large Aviators and floral board shorts with his girlfriend on his back donning the biggest smile I'd ever seen. Another one of his girlfriend with about 15 other females not-nearly rivaling her beauty, all dressed in formal wear; a sorority picture I assumed. And the last one, which made me sick with jealously—the prerequisite "Couples Photo"--taken in some cheesy booth at a strip mall. The strip of photos perfectly displayed their compatibility as a couple. The first photo was simply them flashing their perfect smiles. The second was of them both trying their best to look demented—eyes agog and teeth bared and such. The third was them simply looking into each others' eyes. And the fourth was them sharing an intimate kiss. That bitch—I hated her and I didn't even know her.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?"

I slammed the locker shut out of pure terror; he caught me yet again.

In what I was soon to call "Sam fashion", he nearly laughed and looked at me.

"You okay? I mean, they're only pictures."

"Ha. Yeah, I mean, you just startled me a bit. You came out of nowhere."

"Sorry, mate," he said, while letting out that laugh of his.

"And yes. She is beautiful. You guys look great together."

He laughed yet again. "Thanks, she'll be glad to hear that."

There was a moment of silence between us as he stood there in his towel and I in his extra clothes.

"So if you just give me a minute here, I'll meet you out in the lobby and we can go eat. I'm starved."

"Oh yeah, sure. Okay. I'll see you out there."

I briskly left the locker room and headed toward the lobby. I waved at Arin who had the telephone stuck to her ear saying something about having to make reservations in order to use the courts. I promptly clocked out and plopped myself into a comfy leather recliner waiting for Sam to arrive. What have I gotten myself into?