The Giver

Craig circled around and came up beside the youth and encircled him with one arm, while his other hand palmed the surprised young man's belly and continued under the hem of his gym shorts until Craig could take full possession of the half hard on he found.

"Uhhhgh," The young man sputtered in surprise. But now he was riveted to the spot, all of his attention going to the sensation of another man—not just another man, but a veritable god—fisting his cock.

"Don't talk," Craig said in a low voice. "We're all alone, locked in. I know you're scared and don't know how to start and probably have no one to start with."

"Oh, god," the youth whimpered. He was trembling and Craig had to hold him up to keep him from collapsing.

"Go to the showers and clean yourself real well—including the ass canal. Get that good and clean. Then go into the sauna. I'll follow. I'm going to make your first time something really special, an experience you'll never forget. We're going to have a ball, you and I."

* * * *

After Craig left the gym, he stopped and had dinner at a fast-food restaurant. It was late, going on 10:00 p.m. He had a photo shoot the next day, but not until the afternoon. A good thing, he thought. He was exhausted. He rarely did this much in a day. In fact he wasn't really all that promiscuous, truth be known.

A guy was eyeing him from across the restaurant seating. He was young and good looking. His body was well-worked. Craig knew that he would enjoy him—the young guy even was signaling that he was a taker. But he also could tell that the guy was cocky. He probably could find it easily—and knew he could.

Craig just gave him a smile and a shrug and got up and went out to his car. He could see that the guy had walked up to the window of the restaurant—looking to see if Craig was pausing, waiting for him to come out and join him. But Craig didn't do that. He got right into his car and drove off—to home. He'd shower and maybe do a little reading, but he'd try to be in bed by midnight.

The last thing he did before turning out his bedside light was to reach over to his nightstand and turn the day sheet on his calendar—switching it to tomorrow, 15 February. Today had been Valentine's Day. People celebrated that in many different ways—perhaps not in as an unusual way as Craig had celebrated it the past three years and would continue to do so as long as he was desirable to men. He marked it by giving to other men in need of a little loving attention what he had craved and never gotten when he was just an ordinary young man of lesser surface attraction himself.