Locker Room Talk

And then--very faintly--I hear the creak of the locker room door open again, and I freeze.

If anything, the fact my muscles are tensed and I'm holding my breath only seems to encourage Kowalski. And, truth be told, I can't blame him. It's so close I can feel my skin prickle and my hairs stand on edge, the chance for him to fuck up my life the way I fucked up his. One hand lets go of my hip and finds its way to my head, grasping my hair by the roots, pulling so hard I have to bite down on my lip to stop myself crying out. Even more pre-cum leaks from my cock and that filthy wet sound continues as he fucks me, faster and more furious. When he leans in so that his mouth is close to my ear, breath warm even against my flushed face, his voice is a venomous whisper.

"I'm going to make you come, Cody," he says, and it's a threat, not a promise. "Without even touching your dick. I'm going to press you into this wall even hard and make you cum all over the tiles. I'm going to pull out before you're ready, wrap a towel around my waist and walk out like nothing happened."

He takes a heavy breath that turns into a cruel laugh, and I know then that I'm so close to orgasm I won't be able to stop it when it comes.

"I hope you think about this every time you come to this gym. I hope I get to ruin this place for you the way you ruined this whole damn town for me. I want to leave you with a stretched out empty hole and knowing the fact you'll never be the same again. And I want do it while that guy is still in here, so you know if you don't keep quiet, he'll know what a faggot you really are."

He gives an extra hard thrust with that last word, and that's enough to push me over the edge. I want to scream, I have to scream, but I know I can't. In the distance, I heard the sound of a locker being opened. So instead of screaming, I bite down on my lip even harder. There's blood in my mouth and all my muscles clench right before they all let go. It's unlike anything else, an internal explosion that takes over my whole body. My legs shake and even though the hard bite, I whimper. It's long and slow, a wave of pleasure that's so much longer than any orgasm I've ever had from my cock before, so overpowering that I barely even notice my cock twitch as it comes too.

It's toe curling, overwhelming, and when I start to come back down to Earth, Kowalski is already starting to pull out of me. I feel empty, more empty than I've ever felt before, and despite myself I want him back inside me more than anything else in the world. But he doesn't give that to me. Instead, he bends his silicone cock so it's tucked between his legs, then wraps the towel around his waist.

I'm still shaking, still riding it through, and I know that when I turn my head over my shoulder and look at him, I know I must look pitiful. But, right now, I don't care about that. And Eric Kowalski's eyes narrow and his smirk turns into a scowl, like he knows exactly what's going through my head and thinks it's the most pathetic thing he's ever heard.

"For the record," he says. "I don't forgive you. I never will forgive you. I never can. But this is close enough. We're good, if you want us to be."

When he turns and leaves me there--still naked, my hole still loose, still riding the last parts of my orgasm, my cum all up the tiles just like he promised--I shiver, even with the warm water still raining down on me.