Barbell Bottom

Story Info
Seduced at my apartment gym.
4.7k words
4.74
210.1k
473
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

I was working late one night at the gym at my apartment complex.

I was 25 and living my best life in the Gaslamp district of San Diego. A shiny new job, car, and apartment to boot.

This place was probably more than I needed to be paying, but it was right off the Gaslamp, where the nightlife and the convention center and Petco Park were all at my beck and call with that gorgeous, sunny weather for most of the year. I was in heaven most days, and living it up.

That meant lots of one night stands and no-strings-attached Tinder dates and, quite naturally, lots of time at my apartment gym.

I'd played sports in high school but hadn't really fully started to get into shape until the last year. I'd coasted off my good looks and boyish charms before that...but now I wanted to pull in a new class of woman.

I was there alone most of the time when it was late at night, which I loved, because I could get stoned and work out and put on whatever music I wanted.

The room was well furnished with 8 different types of machines and four treadmills, three ellipticals, and even one rowing machine. Then there free weights and exercise balls and all the appropriate tools for a solid workout.

I'd just gotten about half way done with my typical circuit and when one of my favorite Anderson Paak songs came on I decided to get a little more stoned and switch over to some free-weights. I was already feeling the goodness of my sweaty seratonin kicking in.

I was just beginning with the barbell when the asshole who lived on the top floor came in.

I'd seen him coming out plenty of times from the apartment. He was in his forties and was very well built. I was pretty sure he was a lawyer. He was always zooming past people on the phone, never holding doors or elevators, and just generally not having the time for his fellow apartment folk. He also lived on the sixth and highest floor, which were larger condos compared to the mid-sized apartments of the rest of the building. Different pay scales, certainly.

He also owned a Tesla that he drove entirely too fast through the underground garage when he was occasionally leaving at the same time as me. Basically, he bugged the fuck out of me.

He acknowledged me with a nod when he came in, and then put his headphones in and began switching from machine to machine.

All the equipment and machines faced out of this giant floor to ceiling window which looked down on the busy Gaslamp district three floors down. There was usually great people watching, but now he was directly in my way. As his elliptical was directly in front of my second row by the weights. Of course he chose the machine right in front of me.

I decided not to let it bug me. I was too stoned and feeling too good to care. I decided to start with dumbbells and worked on my arms and back muscles. Slow and steady. Nothing crazy.

The lawyer guy meanwhile was immediately setting a fairly fast pace on the elliptical, as his muscular calves were quickly put on display. He was only wearing small workout shorts, and a tank, and his socks were low cut along with his Nike cross-trainers. He wasn't weightlifter built, but he had that sculpted look to all of his muscles. And the salt and pepper hair was irritatingly perfect. He looked like Josh Duhamel I thought. The guy probably pulled in insane amounts of pussy. He was about 6'2 to my 5'10.

At one point he changed machines and I think he noticed that I'd been staring at him. Not on purpose...he was just the thing that was directly in front of me and it was honestly hard not to stare at him. I wasn't in any way gay but I was certainly observant. He was cut.

He gave me a friendly smile when he caught me staring and I was immediately embarrassed.

Next he moved to the rowing machine, which was further to the right, and turned to the side, which basically meant he was going to see me from his peripheral vision now. This is why I hated other people being in the gym. I didn't want people grading how my form was. I worked out for me...even if I didn't do every exercise correctly.

Whatever, I figured. I just needed to tune him out. This was the weed making my brain do this.

I started to work out a little harder because he was rowing impressively fast. Fuck this asshole. Now it felt like someone was pacing me on the freeway. Was this really necessary? Did he truly work out like that? Stupid.

I decided after 40 isolated curls to move on to the barbell. I started with some deadlifts and standing lifts, and then eventually decided I wanted to lay down on the bench press so I didn't keep accidentally looking at him, jealous of his entire body part.

His muscles were so insanely impressive. I wasn't there yet but I wanted to get to that.

I had a great ass and toned legs. I had a building upper section. I wanted bigger arms and more defined chest. Nothing crazy. But certainly in the Josh Duhamel range would be nice.

I began grunting my way through my bench presses which allowed me to zone him out, but as soon as he finished with his rowing he walked over to the freeweights only six or so feet away from me. Now I knew I needed to hold my own again. Fucking toxic preconceived notions.

I added more weight. And somehow found unusual amounts of strength in my arms. Even if I was making a lot of noise. He looked over at me occasionally, and I was embarrassed any time he did. It felt kind of weird to be in the gym with only one other dude. What if something weird happened? He started doing 35 pound curls like they were absolutely nothing and I watched his arms move through their impressively masculine tensions, not even realizing how much he was catching me.

And then I surprised myself even further when I looked down his body to notice that he seemed at least half-hard in his gym shorts. His cock tented slightly, like an elephant waking up at the zoo.

Why was I looking at his big cock?

I turned back and hoped he hadn't seen me.

I decided to attempt a new personal benching record. I had a surprising amount of challenging energy in me, and I began to push the heavy bar up over my head. Really, it was the burst of testosterone in the room. There was zero worlds in existence or gym etiquette where I shouldn't have had a spotter, but I certainly wasn't going to ask him because this was already strange enough that he had chosen to come and do freeweights right next to me. Like when someone sits next to you in an empty theater.

And then I saw him turn to look at me just as I was reaching my bar over my head, and I swear his eyes started at my eyes and then ran down the length of my straining lower body like he was hungry.

I shuddered nervously and dropped the weight dangerously over my chest and neck.

I was immediately pinned though not completely. The gym was designed with a sort of spotting shelf beside the bench so that it wouldn't completely crush you, as the side of the weights would rest slightly elevated from the ground.

This still kept the bar firmly pushing me into the cushioned leather bench, trapping me there.

He immediately stopped when he saw what happened and came over to me.

"Are you okay?" He asked, and I grunted, as I tried to see if I could extricate my body in some way.

"Ughhh..I think I'm trapped," I said, completely embarrassed. I was red all over and squirming. My gym shorts had gotten bunched up and that framed my cock clearly.

"Here let me help you out," he said.

He leaned over me.

I thought he was going to simply lift the bar off so I could scoot out.

But he didn't lift the bar at all.

"Are you completely trapped?" He asked, in a slightly different voice. I didn't understand it at the time.

"Yes...please help," I grunted back, feeling my chest firmly held down by my heavy prison. My arms were awkwardly pressed over the top of the bar.

"I can help you out," and then I felt him rub his hand down my chest and grab onto my very hard cock through my gym shorts.

What the fuck?!? My brain started to freak out. He was grabbing my cock. My HARD cock?! When had I gotten this hard??

"Ummm, what are you..." I gulped. I couldn't finish my sentence. He started to undo the drawstring on my shorts.

"...what are you...ughhh..."

"That's a very hard cock," he said as he worked. "I'm going to help you out."

"No," I said.

"No?" He asked. He didn't stop.

"No. I'm not..."

"You're not what?" He interrupted me.

I was breathing so heavily and nervously. My entire body was shaking.

Then I felt him pulling my shorts down my legs. I wasn't wearing boxers. My very hard cock flopped out and he ran has hand over it, as he wrapped his big fingers around my fully inflated member.

"Mmmm...noooo...I'mNotGay Mmmm...," I squeaked to him. My eyes were closed for some reason.

"You're not?" He asked, as he began to stroke my dick softly in his big hands.

"No...please," I moaned to him. "Don't."

"Don't what?" He asked. And he jacked me a little more now. My head was swimming. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He had a dominant look to him. The asshole lawyer swagger. The way he stood over me. He was staring into my eyes as he jacked me off.

"Fuckkkkk, nooooo, please...I don't waaaa..." I was begging but my moans of pleasure were giving me away. I was so grossed out and wanted him to stop but everything he was doing felt so good.

He pulled my shorts the rest of the way off even as he kept my shoes and socks on. Then I felt him walk around to sit on the end of my bench, right in the middle of my legs, which dangled off either side lazily.

He began to stroke me again and I took a deep breath back.

"You want me to stop? I'll stop if you want me to," he said it in the cockiest way and I hated him.

"Mmmmm, Fuckkk...I...mmmm..." I was trying to find the courage.

"You want me to stop jacking your cock off?" He asked me, and now he had slid his body up against mine so that he was somewhat under me. The bar kept me pinned. My heart was pounding against the metal. His firm cock was pressing up against me through his workout shorts. He was very hard.

I shook my head no and I could barely look at him I was so nervous.

I didn't want him to stop. I hated how badly I didn't want him to stop. This fucker. This cocky asshole. I was straight. I was trying to negotiate my brain out of this. My body systems were all engaged in a rapidly devolving inner debate. I liked girls.

And then he was pulling his shorts off and was sitting back down with his own naked bottom half sitting up against me on the bench. His cock was stunning.

If anyone walked in they'd see us like this. It was insanely risky.

He slid himself further under me and began to caress my cock again. I could feel his engorged penis pressed up against my buns.

He was bigger than me by an inch. And his cock was fat. Like, porn-thick. He pressed it into my sweaty cheeks and nudged it up against my virgin opening and I shuddered as the bar kept me in place.

My legs were pushed up even further as he began to thrust himself up against me. He was jacking me off and a strand of his spit fell from his mouth onto his dick and streaming down my perineum.

"Mmfff," I moaned to him. I was still fighting. Still struggling to grasp what was happening. It was out of body. Out of mind. I was high, and nervous, and completely thrilled at his every move. He played me like Chess.

He was completely taking over my ability to resist. His presence and swagger were staggering. I hated him and wanted to do what he said at the same time.

When his mushroom head pressed against my tight anus I could feel my breath catch in the depths of my heterosexual cavern.

I knew he was going to fuck me.

"I don't want that," I told him, ever the failed actor.

I needed to show him I was stronger than he was. That I couldn't be so easily convinced to do what he wanted.

I watched him as he pushed his hips forward and back, teasing my hole with his cock. His dick was so big and my cheeks were spread with the way he was sitting beneath me now. My legs were propped up on either side of his muscled legs.

"You don't want this cock inside you?" He said, incredulously, as if he already knew I was doomed. He spot another lewd strand of his saliva all over his cock. It dripped down slowly from his mouth and he repeated the process, covering me with his first fluids.

"No," I said, as he lubricated his pole and did the same to my hole and crack. But my no wasn't going to win any Oscars. I almost smiled when I said it. The excitement was growing. I was starting to realize I wanted it.

"You don't want this cock?" He asked me now. And the way he was speaking to me was devastating me. No one had ever led me like this.

"Noo, please..." I moaned again. He was spitting even more, and I felt his fingers rubbing the spit into my asshole now. It felt unexpectedly sexy to have my ass played with like this. I'd never once even thought about doing something like this. What was happening to me?

"Are you sure? It seems like your ass likes this," he said it quite confidently. Like some sort of Gaston fuck-boy bullshit. But he wasn't that. He was a fucking wolf that had done this before. I probably wasn't the first straight guy that he'd ever...

"FUCCKKKKK MMmmmFfffFfff!," I moaned as I felt his manhood pushing into me.

"You want me to stop?" He asked gently, as his helmet slipped past my very tight sphincter ring and I achingly shrilled for him.

"Ughhh, yessssssss, I'm not gayyyy!" I was playing his game now. I even bit my lip when I said it and there was submission in my eyes.

It hurt like fucking hell but I didn't want him to stop. I just needed him to stay like this for a while. I breathed deeply in and out and clutched his legs.

I was breathing hard and trying to grit through my teeth.

He spit more saliva onto his cock and my ass.

"You don't want me to push my cock further inside of you?" But he was already pushing as he asked. "You don't want to be fucked?"

"Noo, noooo, pleaseeee, don'ttttt...MMmmmmfffgggghhhh!" And inch by inch, he started to open me.

"I can just push it into one time and then I'll pull it out okay? That way you can be sure you're not gay," he said it and I winced at the implication. But maybe that wasn't so bad. He'd push in and pull out and I'd be done. And I could say I had tried it.

Every centimeter deeper I felt my body melting.

It was a lot of pain. I felt like I could pass out. But also...something...ughhhhh...

SOOOOO GOOOOD was happening.

"Mmmmm," I felt him push up against me, and my prostate was making its introduction to my cock. I throbbed in his hand as he jacked me. His cock throbbed in my ass.

"Okay then...I'll pull out now..." he slowly, and lasciviously pulled his penis from my stretched hole, and I felt this guttural loss coming on.

"Noooo," I moaned to him, as my legs surprisingly came up to straddle his waist and pull him towards me.

He was almost out of me as I felt his helmet begin to exit my hole.

"Nooo?" He paused, as his dick pulsed at the precipice of my ring, which winked like a calf searching for the nipple. God, I hated how much he fucking knew.

"Please..." I begged. My body was on fire.

"Please what?" He said, flexing his penis inside of me now, as my tight buns felt empty and wanting and frizzed with every flex. Even my goosebumps were hooking up and making goslingdimples.

"Fuckkk me," I said to him, and my straight programming gasped at the words that my cock had forced out of my mouth before they could be over-analyzed.

He pushed his large cock back into my slippery orifice and I moaned loudly again as he bottomed out in me, as his balls pressed to my sweaty ass. He smelled like alpha male.

He kept me pinned below my barbell and slowly fucked me, no longer jacking me now. My hard cock slapped against my belly as he thrusted, leaving my sticky precum juices everywhere.

If anyone were to stop by the gym right now, they'd see me taking my first cock on a bench press like a wanton whore. I moaned so loudly he had to cover my mouth.

There was something strangely submissive about being trapped below my barbell while he fucked me. I don't know why, but it made it somewhat easier for my brain to accept this seduction.

He was taking me. I didn't have a choice. He had seduced me. Completely. I was his now. I would do what he said.

He stopped when he was all the way in and I loved the way he filled my ass.

"Mmmmm fuckkkkk, yusssss," I moaned for him.

The sensation made my dick throb in wonderment. I felt like I was Jeeping the Rubicon trail on a 'Pimp My Ride' Sybian Seat.

I watched as he easily picked up the barbell and placed it safely above us on the hooks. I took a deep breath out with my chest and shuddered a little. There was nothing to stop me from stopping this now. I could just get up and push him out of me.

Instead though, he spread my legs further and wrapped them around his back and he drove himself into me. He pulled my shirt off and his shirt off and now we were only dressed in our cross trainers.

I moaned loudly again but my mouth was quickly covered with his lips and our tongues mashed together like warriors.

Fuck, this was intense. We made out roughly and his salt-and-pepper shadow scratched my smooth face. He smelled like musky body wash and sweat and old spice deodorant. He smelled like funky, feral lust.

Every time his cock spread my hole I moaned into his kiss and he moaned back, biting my lips and sucking on my tongue and pulling my hair back to show his control.

"Such. A. Good. Boy." He whispered into my ears between full thrusts and I clung to him as he stretches my virgin hole.

He spit into my open mouth on one of my next moans and I was kissing him again. I wanted more. He felt so good.

"Ughhh, this is, soooo fugggging gooood," I groaned.

I pushed him back and he straddled the bench sitting up. I climbed up so I was straddling his waist in a cowgirl position, and I began to ride up and down on his cock, as I quickly found my g spot saddle positioning.

It didn't hurt as badly anymore. I was happiest when he was all the way in, but the feeling of sinking down on a cock was like nothing I'd ever felt before. Sliding into wet pussy or mouth was exciting...but this was a whole different kind of thing. This was...

"FUGGGHHHHHHHH," so good.

"You love that cock in your ass, don't you?" He asked, already knowing the answer as he steadied me by my love handles and allowed me to ride him.

"YESSS!" I moaned to him and we kissed again.

It was at that moment that I realized that the hotel across the street from our building probably had a pretty good view of our spontaneous passions if anyone was awake through the two or so floors that had an angle on our in flagranti. I didn't care anymore. They could all watch him pound me for all I cared. It actually turned me on more.

I was obsessed with riding this hot guy's cock. I couldn't believe it but I fucking loved it.

My boner bounced against us as I sank down onto him over and over again.

"Is this your first time?" He asked me. And I nodded to him. "Good boy, you're doing very good," he said, and I loved the way he talked dirty to me. I wanted to be his good boy now.

"Ride that cock like you love it," he demanded.

"Yessssss," I was loving every second of my lost anal virginity. His molten lead was poking into my mysterious g spot and causing my own cock to layer our bellies with my excited cream.

"Okay...come with me," he said, lifting us up while keeping me on his cock. This impressive bull carried me over to one of the treadmills and began to fuck me standing up as I held onto the arms for added support. I wrapped my legs around him and he filled me in time with my moans.

12