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Related article: Eleven-and-a-half: A Fantasy Of Great Length by
Ray WilderChapter 17: PattyThis is a work of fiction. All the
characters, events and locations portrayed in this book are
fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, events or
locations is purely coincidental.Copyright �
1996. All rights, implicit or implied, except for distribution by
this archive and personal use by the individual downloading the
file, are reserved. Inquiries regarding publishing rights for this
book should be directed to:
raywildaol.com======================================== As Patty
drove up to the gym she saw there were already three people
squatting on the pump island waiting for her arrival. They were in
heavy conversation and made quite a tableau. Three pairs of thick,
muscular thighs being hunched over by three pairs of very wide
shoulders and being wrapped around by three pair of large, highly
developed arms. Their heads wagged back and forth, shaking or
nodding with great animation in response to one of the other's
comments. It was Sunday. The politically radical wing of the muscle
set was in attendance. These three always showed up and argued
political issues back and forth as they heaved weights up and down
all afternoon. Sometimes their arguments become so heated she was
amazed that they didn't sometimes heave the weights at each other.
There would always come a time, about two hours after their
arrival, when she would have to call a cease fire and demand that
if they were going to discuss anything at all it had to be in the
category of polite dinner conversation. They would always shift
gears. One time they picked up the topic of plants and got into one
of the loudest and most heated arguments they had ever been
involved in. The only good thing about these three and their Sunday
afternoon verbal bashings was that it kept the crowds down; most
people found the atmosphere too distracting. She was the only one
working Sunday's and too many people made things hectic. Not that
she wanted to drive customers away, but she appreciated having one
slow day a week. Today was going to be a short day for her, anyway,
as she was leaving at four o'clock for her sister's and the kid was
going to lock up for her. She thought he would be here already, but
his bike wasn't parked in front as it usually was. She parked her
car and opened the front door of the building, walked to the back
of the office, disarmed the alarm system and walked back out to the
reception area. The three were still sitting on the curb arguing
some minute geo-theo-eco-bio-political point. She had long since
given up trying to follow the gist of their weekly diatribes. The
topics were generally so esoteric she hadn't the slightest idea
which side who was on. She suspected none of them did most of the
time, either. Arguing for argument's sake. The sun poured into the
gym through the sky lights, heating up the place, so Patty turned
on the ceiling fans to get some air moving. Her next task of the
day, and the reason she enjoyed working on Sundays, was to water
the literally hundreds of plants that occupied every nook and
cranny of the gym. The plants had been her contribution to the
identity of the place so they were her responsibility. She had
started a few years ago with a couple of potted ferns in the front
area. Soon she was bringing in several new plants each week. They
started to be hung from the sky lights, stuck on top of exercise
stations, shoved into every corner available until they became the
most identifiable characteristic of the gym. The oxygen they
created was a great asset. People who worked out there swore they
could get in an extra two to three reps on every exercise they did
compared to any other gym in the area. Cynics claimed they were
shorting on the weights to give this impression. This was not the
case. More oxygen in the air meant more oxygen in the bloodstream.
More oxygen in the blood stream meant a quicker exchange of waste
products created during heavy activity. Quicker exchange meant the
muscle worked longer and harder. Muscles that worked longer and
harder got bigger, faster. C'est �vident. The
plants stayed. She had gone out and bought a water sprayer that
rode on her back like a knapsack. It was pumped up by hand and then
a long nozzle delivered the water to even the hardest to reach of
the plants. She still took a step ladder around with her to tend to
the individual plants, plucking and preening her babies, getting
rid of shed leaves, checking for infestations, generally letting
them know they were loved. The plants thrived on the atmosphere of
the gym. The harder the people worked out the more carbon dioxide
was released into the air. The plants were all very big. The people
were all very big. Everyone was happy. She Lolita Portal had the
routine down. The whole place could be watered and a moderate
amount of maintenance could be done in about forty-five minutes.
Just as she was putting the step ladder back into the closet the
political party finally realized the place was opened and came in,
dragging behind them the remains of some philosophical argument
that had been beaten to a pulp out in the parking lot. Something
told Patty they were going to run out of steam pretty soon. This
might just be a peaceful afternoon after all. The three of them
headed for their respective locker rooms to get changed and she
headed for the front
Lolita Portal desk to call the kid to
see if he really intended to come in. It would be a shame if he
didn't, she thought sarcastically, as it would provide her with the
perfect excuse for not making the drive south. Then she would just
go home after closing up and see if her new neighbor was
pre-occupied. If she closed her eyes she could imagine that huge
cock of his laying in the palm of her hand. She had tried to seem
blaz� when he had dropped his massive dick in
her hand, but the fact was she had never seen, much less had her
hands on, anything that big before. Her asshole tingled at the
thought of that bulbous head pushing its way past her sphincter
muscles and traveling up her colon. She became wet between her legs
and welcomed the chance to withdraw to the office for a few minutes
to enjoy, and even encourage, the flow. Just as she had sat down at
the desk and propped her feet up on the edge to get a better angle
with her finger on the lips of her cunt the front door swung open
and the kid, that irrepressible bundle of unrestrained energy, flew
into the gym. A whole series of emotions, not a majority of which
were pleasant, ran through Patty's being. It was, however,
inevitable that the kid would, indeed, walk in at that very moment.
That's what made the kid the kid. The kid, always spelled and said
in the lower case, was the gym mascot. He had wandered into the
place about a year-and-a-half ago. He was immediately hooked on the
place. They
Lolita Portal couldn't get rid of him
so they gave him a job. He took care of the place, keeping it
clean, and made himself available to the customers in case they
needed a hand and, on rare occasions like today, actually sitting
in the command seat, handling any emergency that might come up.
They generally only allowed him to do this on Sundays, the slowest
day of the week. It wasn't that he was incompetent. To the
contrary, he was the most conscientious employee they had. But he
was young and still had a lot to learn about the big
responsibilities. Several times now they had let him close on
Sundays and everything had gone off like clockwork. Patty's
confidence in the kid was very high. She also liked the fact that
the more responsibility they gave him the more responsible he
became. In return for his efforts he was allowed to work-out for
free. This he had been doing with a dedication that shamed all but
the most serious of their clientele. In the past eighteen months
the kid's body had gone from that of a gangling, out-of-proportion
teenager to one of depth and definition. The other thing Patty was
happy about was the kid's own level of self-esteem. When he had
first walked into the gym he'd had a terrible self-deprecating
manner that was quite uncomfortable to witness; he had literally
hated himself. Over the course Lolita Portal of his time there he
had been befriended by most of the folks and had learned to see the
improvements in his mind as well as his body. He had also found his
center. He discovered the reason he had been so miserable was that
he had spent the last few years trying to convince himself and
everyone else around him that he was straight. He wasn't. It had
been quite obvious to Patty and several of the other folks that the
kid was playing a role he wasn't suited for. They got two of the
more openly gay customers to have a little talk with him. When he
finally figured out his proper sexual orientation it was as though
someone had thrown away the old kid and this new, improved version
walked into the gym in his place. Patty was sure that he was still
a virgin, but if he kept up his current rate of development he was
going to have to beat them off with a stick before the year was
out. Patty greeted the kid with her usual feigned lack of concern.
The kid feigned right back, pretending that his presence and the
fact that he was closing that night were matters of course. Nothing
out of the ordinary here, no sir. She could tell he was so hyped up
about it that he was about to blast right out of the top of his
head. She enjoyed seeing him enthusiastic. Sometimes it got on her
nerves. Most of the time, though, it was contagious. He'd go down
to the gym floor and cajole and razz and encourage and pump up
anyone who looked like they weren't putting in a hundred-and-ten
per cent. His enthusiasm for the world of body building was another
of those aspects of the place that gave it its own identity. If you
couldn't face going into another gym and moving forty or fifty tons
of iron around, you just headed over to The Pump House and the kid
would get you so hyped up you finished your routine and wanted to
start over again. Many people would request him as their workout
partner. He would sometimes do two or even three people a day,
exercising right along with them. At the end of the day exhaustion
would overcome him and he would fall dead asleep on the couch in
the office. They'd kick him out at closing time only to find him
sitting on the curb when the doors were opened the next day. Patty
suspected there wasn't any kind of a home life for the kid. She
also knew he had no other income and probably wasn't getting the
proper nourishment. This was especially important in light of the
amount of energy he expended in the course of a day. She always
made sure that whoever he worked with tipped him generously at the
completion of the session. But there was no guarantee the money was
going to food. She tried to suss him out on this but he was
uncharacteristically closed mouth about the subject of where his
money was going. So when Patty sensed that things were out of
balance in his system she'd haul him out to a restaurant and jam a
bunch of good food down him. "You're late," said Patty, hoping he
wouldn't have one of his good excuses. "You're late," the kid
retorted. "I was here fifteen minutes early. Those politicals
started in with their arguing and I thought if I had to sit around
inside all day and listen to their bullshit then I didn't think I
needed to do it in the big outdoors as well. I split on my bike and
went down to the beach for a swim. I figured there wasn't anything
to do until you left at four, anyway." Patty was properly
chastened. She had forgotten she had specified the time to be there
and then had blown it herself with her little self-indulgence in
the shower. She didn't let the kid know this, though. She just
barreled on through as though it was still his fault and never
looked back. The kid tactfully allowed this. There were no
recriminations here, this was just the way their relationship
worked. "Seeing as I got stuck doing all the plants (she never,
ever, let anyone do the plants) you get to go down on the floor and
baby-sit the babbling threesome." The kid rolled his eyes in mock
exasperation. "It shouldn't be too bad. I think they were running
out of steam when they came in." "I hope so. Barbara got so upset
at something one of the guys said last week she stopped spotting
him in the middle of a bench press. Just walked away leaving the
guy there holding about four hundred fifty pounds over his head."
Patty thought it couldn't happen to a nicer person but kept that to
herself. Abandoning someone in the middle of a rep was dangerous
and not to be condoned. She needed a serious injury in the gym like
a hole in the head. Hopefully their differences had been patched up
during the week and she wouldn't have to have words with them. The
one thing that made this place was the feeling of support and
camaraderie among all the staff and clientele. If something like
that was allowed to spread it could be the downfall of them all.
"That's pretty serious stuff. If you see it happen again, with that
bunch or anyone else, let one of us know. Immediately. Got it?"
"Sure. I'm sorry I didn't bring it up when it Lolita Portal
happened. It seemed sort of harmless at the time. I'll keep my eye
out for it." "I know you will. If I didn't think you could handle
it I wouldn't be leaving you with the keys tonight." He beamed.
"Now get out there and make sure those boneheads don't kill each
other. And if I catch you joining in with them, you're fired. Now
git." The kid jumped up and made for the gym floor. The window
along the side wall of the office overlooked the gym itself. She
sometimes would sit at the window, her legs spread and finger busy
while she drank in the sight of all that beautiful flesh bulging
and swelling. She especially liked the view afforded her by the
benchpress stations. They all faced the window so that when the
tools laid down on them to go through their reps she'd get a great
look up their gym shorts at their jockstraps. There was nothing she
loved more than cock. She loved it hard, soft, thick, thin, short,
long, cut, uncut, white, black, purple. Especially purple. When it
was so hard and
Lolita Portal hot and the blood swelling it
to incredible size just before it shoots its load of cum into her
cunt or mouth or ass. She really loved it purple. She thought again
of the huge cock she'd handled today and began to fantasize in
earnest about it entering various openings in her body. The nice
thing about this particular cock, aside from its obvious physical
charms and great location right next-door, was that it was attached
to a beautiful body with a beautiful face and a beautiful sense of
humor and a beautifully unassuming ego. That was the one thing she
usually didn't like about tools. They had this ego thing. They all
needed to feel there was no one better than them, there was no one
more important than them, that the center of the universe had
nothing on their cock as far as importance was concerned. The fact
of the matter was that every tool she ever dealt with was the most
important thing in the universe at that moment. If the tool would
just realize this and return the favor then the sex would be great.
Great? It would generally be earth-shattering. But most of the time
they carried the whole sexual history of the world into bed with
them and expected to be judged on how they compared with every dick
that ever entered a cunt since the beginning of time. Patty got the
feeling that Arnold's problem was not that he had an ego to match
his dick, but that he equated people's desire to own him physically
with love. She had been forward with him, for sure, but that was
just her way. The fact that he so freely referred to his cock and,
just as freely exposed it to a complete stranger like herself, told
Patty he didn't have much of a sense of privacy. She thought there
was probably a homelife situation that had prevented those personal
barriers from being formed in a normal, growth oriented way. This
usually involved incest or other forms of sexual abuse. Though this
was all none of her business, she felt that if she was going to be
involved with the guy, even on a casual sex basis, she'd probably
end up dealing with it on some level. It wouldn't be the first time
she'd gotten wrapped up in some tools past. The most notable
example of that had been that cunt, Norma Benton's, last ex: Mark.
He had practically run away from home when he couldn't stand her
proprietary attitude towards his body any more. He had been an
abused child and spent his late teens and early twenties searching
for some fucked-up version of real love. Norma was the perfect
source for fucked-up love. He fell right into her trap, accepting
her body worship as a replacement for a real emotional commitment.
When he won the Mr. Universe contest she conned him into marrying
her and then the fun really began. He became her sexual toy,
cumming when she called, as it were. She had no sense of marital
fidelity and continued to take other men to bed with her, sometimes
literally kicking him out of their bedroom so she could spend the
night with some other muscle-bound stud. Patty suspected the only
reason Mark lasted so long was because he, too, had a very large
cock. In fact, until Arnold showed up, it had probably been the
biggest on the beach. But with the marriage being so fucked-up it
wasn't long before Mark was slacking off on his training, diet,
nutrition, and lifestyle. He started to replace real exercise with
steroids and other chemicals. Needless to say the following year's
Mr. Universe went to a much more deserving physique. That same
deserving physique celebrated his victory in bed with Mark's wife,
Norma. Patty had found him, drunk and very high, sitting on the
beach at three o'clock in the morning in front of her apartment. He
had been making quite a racket. Instead of leaving him to the cops
and bad press, Patty took him in, gave him a cup of coffee, a hot
shower and a warm bed. He cried all night. He kept saying over and
over that he had only wanted someone to love him. The years of
work, the hundreds of thousands of pounds of iron, the starving,
the pain, the pushing himself every day to surpass the efforts of
the day before when all he really wanted to do was go lie down
somewhere and sleep for a week, all of it was just so that someone
would love him. Several relatives and close family members had
loved him for his big, physical cock. He felt if he could improve
the rest of himself physically then more people would love him. He
ended up having no one inside himself to be loved for real. Mark
ended up staying at Patty's for a week. No one else knew he was
there. The only demand she had put on him was that he make no
attempt to contact Norma. It worked for a week but you can't change
the stripes on a zebra over night. Or even in a week. He called her
one day while Patty was out. When Norma demanded to know where he
was he told her. She immediately called the cops and had them come
and get him on some trumped up charge. Apparently he had a credit
card in his wallet that was in Norma's name and she accused him of
stealing it. She came down and bailed him out of jail after letting
him be humiliated for a couple of hours, took him home, fucked him
and then made him watch as she screwed the successor to the crown.
That night, while Norma and the new kid slept in his marital bed,
Mark left with nothing in his pockets but a comb, the keys to his
car, which he had bought long before meeting Norma, and a piece of
paper with Patty's phone number on it. Patty agreed to take him
back but with several conditions. He would work at the gym to earn
his keep, he had to seek out professional help to get to the bottom
of this self-destructive behavior, and he had to sleep on the
living room couch. No sex until the divorce was final. And that was
the other thing. He had to file for a divorce and see it through.
All these things Mark did. When the divorce hearings came up Norma
had counter-filed claiming that because he hadn't won the Mr.
Universe contest the following year he had failed to live up to her
expectations as a husband and suitable bed partner. The court threw
her case out and awarded him a tidy little alimony which he
declined. He just wanted to be shut of her. If he had a check
coming from her every month it would be as though the bond would
still be there. Nothing. He wanted nothing. He stayed with Patty
for eight more months and then moved out on his own. He appreciated
her support, her generosity, her love, her understanding, but it
was time he got a little personal space and figured things out for
himself. The therapy helped immensely in dredging up and allowing
him to deal with past wrongs. Once he realized where all his
problems stemmed from he was able to wipe the slate clean and begin
again. Norma, on the other hand, still blamed Patty for "screwing
up the best piece of meat I ever bedded." And now there was Arnold.
If she was correct in her assumptions about him this could be the
beginning of a pattern. She didn't want to baby-sit any more tools.
She'd love them, she'd fuck them, she'd suck them, she'd even make
the occasional breakfast for them, but she wasn't going to take any
more to raise. She'd have to be on her guard from the very start.
It was then, when there was still a novelty about the new tool in
her life, that she tended to become attached to them. And she
figured it would be very easy, and very nice, to become extremely
attached to that eleven-and-a-half inch cock she'd handled that
very morning outside her apartment door. All this time her finger
had slowly been massaging the lips of her vagina through her
sweats. She had succeeded in worrying herself into a state of
agitation that required a bit more direct attention. She figured if
just the thought of that huge dick could inspire at least two
orgasms in one day then the real thing was going to plain tucker
her out. She headed down the stairs to the gym and back towards the
employees bathroom with a quick glance over the room to see if
everything was still in the correct number of pieces and also to
check to see if there was anyone worth taking with her. Two other
people had come in during her reveries and were presently going
through pre-workout stretches. The political contingency was
uncharacteristically non-verbal. She wondered if they had quit
speaking to each other until she noticed the kid riding herd on
them. He was issuing encouragements and good-naturedly chiding them
for skimping on this push or that pull. He was indomitable. He was
also cute. You couldn't possibly get pissed at him. He just cuted
his way into your good graces and you let him push you through your
reps, coming out with a greater sense of accomplishment and a
larger muscle. Patty thought about the kid for a second. She
wondered what he would be like. She wondered if, since his episode
of self-awakening, he would be the least bit interested in having a
quick one with the boss-lady. He was shaping up very nicely, his
arms were starting to take on that wonderful definition when the
individual muscles began assuming their own identity. His chest was
becoming broad and deep, the pecs more prominent under his baggy
sweat shirts. When he bothered to take his top off, which was
rarely, he displayed a fine abdomen, tapering from increasingly
wider shoulders down to a tight waist and firm ass which she
suspected was one of his favorite muscle groups to work on. She
also noticed he had taken to wearing a different style of
jockstrap. It seemed to offer a bit more support, thrusting his
genitals forward more than when he had first started coming to the
gym. At this moment Patty was eyeing that thrusting forward and
wondering what the dear thing looked like unfettered. She could put
pressure on him to reveal himself, to even have sex with her; she
was certain he would acquiesce, but there wouldn't be anything else
to it. Nothing much different than what Norma was guilty of. She
decided the best thing she could do for both herself and the kid
would be to honor him with a little fantasy action while she took
care of matters herself. She gave the kid the high sign, showing
him that she was going to the bathroom. The kid rolled his eyes
dramatically, showing that he knew what the purpose of her trip
was. She flipped him the finger and headed back through the
equipment and plants to the door marked private. The sound of iron
hitting iron and the song of the men and women grunting and moaning
in their efforts was, quite literally, music to her ears. This was
the tune she loved to masturbate to.
Lolita Portal She
closed the door, turned the lock, pulled down her gym clothes and
sat down on the toilet. Her nose was immediately assaulted by the
smell of her cunt juices which were flowing with the expectation of
orgasm. She ran her finger up her cunt to get it good and wet,
bringing lubrication back to her clitoris which was already
becoming quite agitated. Slowly she pressed her finger into it, her
other hand spreading the lips of her vagina to allow the most
contact possible. She pictured what she thought the kid's cock
looked like, with nothing to base the mental image on besides her
own active imagination. She built an idealized kid in her mind:
shy, reticent, his cock hanging heavily between his legs, the balls
swollen, the tip leaking tiny drops of cum. As she reaches out for
the cock before her it twitches in anticipation of being touched.
Her finger nails run along its length causing it to thicken, the
head becoming bigger, stimulating pleasant thoughts of it pressing
against the inside of her cunt. The sound of iron plates clank and
the sound Lolita Portal of the grunts and moans blend with her own
as she takes on their beat. Her finger drives her clitoris into a
vibration that begins to ring through her entire body. In her mind
the kid growls and moans as the animal she senses within him is
released by her ministrations. His cock is now hard and long, her
cunt is hungry and empty. She spreads her legs wider and entreats
him to enter her. He hesitates, the distended member bobbing and
weaving between them. She leans forward and takes it into her
mouth, the head pushing its way to the back of her throat. He
becomes more agitated and she tastes his seminal fluid leaking
profusely from the tip. As she sucks on his cock she reaches around
behind him and begins toying with his asshole. Her fingernail
traces the sphincter muscle, flicking across it. Then, with a
quickness that startles the boy, she drives her forefinger in,
worming it back and forth until it is buried up to the last
knuckle. He cries out in pleasure/pain and his cock leaps in her
mouth. She fastens her lips tightly around its ever expanding
girth, preventing its escape. He wriggles his ass back onto her
finger, attempting to get every last millimeter inside him. His
hips begin to work as his animal drive takes over. He wants to cum.
She takes him up to the split second before he's about to shoot in
her mouth. She pulls away, her finger vacating his clasping rectum.
He growls. He tries to force his way back into her mouth but she
leans back with legs spread. If he wants to shoot, it has to be
inside her. The look on his face says novels. She's a cunt, a
tease, a hot bitch. He grabs the massive organ that juts out from
between his legs and viciously rams it into her, splitting her and
sending her immediately over the edge. It's so big, so hot, so
smooth, so virgin. She starts to cum the moment he's inside her. He
pounds away at her cunt and is soon splattering her insides with a
thick covering of cum. Again and again he rams his hot cock into
her, each thrust accompanied by another volley of jism. Her cunt
throbs and jolts, her abdomen contracting over and over with the
force of her orgasm. She thinks he is done but he keeps thrusting,
his cock still hard as a rock. Again the waves of orgasm overtake
her and send her spinning through a universe of electric impulses,
the stuff stars are made of. He immediately cums again, filling her
to overflow, his sperm running out of her cunt and down the insides
of her thighs. One final thrust, one final
Lolita Portal
shudder and he pulls his cock out of her cunt with a popping noise.
He glares down at her, challenging her to ever think of doing that
again. The animal will not be toyed with. She lies breathless,
ravaged, satisfied. There was a banging at the door. It took her a
moment to realize where she was. She focused on her image in the
mirror in front of her, over the sink. Her eyes were glazed, her
hair tosseled. She then realized that the finger of her other hand,
the one that had been spreading the lips of her vagina, had found
its way down to her ass and the forefinger was imbedded up to the
last knuckle. Someone was banging on the door still. "Who is it?"
she said, none to politely. "It's me, Patty." The kid. "Things
getting a little wild in there?" "I'm fine. I'll be out in a
second." She washed her hands, opened the door and walked across
the room to the stairs. The kid fell in behind her. "Was I making
too much noise?" "I just turned up the music out here, but you
raised a few eyebrows ." "You're a sweetheart." Patty decided to
tell him about his presence in her sex dream. "I just had a fantasy
about you." "Me? Why?" "Beats me. Unknown quantity? Seemed like the
fun thing to do." "Was I any good?" She'd reached the stairs and
stopped on the first one, turning to him. His interest in how she
perceived him sexually took her a bit by surprise. "The best,
darlin'. The best." She patted his cheek and turned to go up the
stairs but he grabbed her wrist as it touched the railing. Patty
felt an electric shock run through her body. She turned towards
him, eyebrow raised in reaction. He was about to say something else
but stopped in mid-word and just stared over her shoulder at
something up in the reception room. By the look on his face she
knew she would see one of two things when she turned around: Either
a gunman
Lolita Portal pointing a forty-four magnum at the
back of her head or her new neighbor delivering her "forgotten" gym
bag. She turned around and Arnold waved to her. Patty trotted up
the stairs, sensing the kid close on her heels. Arnold looked as
gorgeous clothed as he did naked, or semi-naked. His shirt spread
nicely over his pecs, clung seductively to his biceps. His pants
were pleated and baggy but revealing at the same time. She also
knew it would have been possible to draw a straight line between
the kid's eyes and Arnold's cock and not be a degree off from their
aim. In Arnold's left hand was the errant gym bag. As she came up
the stairs he held it out to her, shaking his head in mock
disappointment. She wondered if he
Lolita Portal
knew she had left it behind on purpose. She'd play the innocent
until he called her on it. "Thanks," she said, taking it from him.
"I realized as I was getting out of the car here that I had
forgotten it, but there were already people here so I figured if
you weren't able to drop it by I could stop by your place on my way
out of town this afternoon." "I know. Things got a little
distracting just as you were leaving. I would have done the same,
under those circumstances." The look in his eye told her he was
innocent of her manipulations. He nodded his head over her
shoulder. "Who's the gawker?" Patty turned around to introduce the
kid but she stopped in mid-breath. The look on his face could only
be described as "stupid". The kid was dumbfounded. She turned back
to Arnold, bravely trying to keep a straight face. "This is the
kid. He's going to be closing the gym for me tonight. That is,
unless he doesn't report in from outer space before then." She
snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. Slowly the kid shifted
his glance to her and his expression changed to one eerily
reminiscent of the one she had fantasized on his face when she had
stopped sucking his cock to keep him from cumming in her mouth. The
similarity was scary. She had never seen him look that way in
reality and had never thought such thoughts could cross his mind,
but he obviously resented being made fun of when his emotions were
running so high. Patty decided she had done enough damage and let
the kid handle it himself. She knew that, sooner or later, he would
have to deal with such a situation and she was glad that it was
with someone as seemingly together as Arnold. She looked back at
Arnold and saw he was watching the interplay between them
carefully. She didn't know if he could figure out where things
stood between herself and the kid. Arnold stuck out his right hand
to the kid and introduced himself. "My name's Arnie. Shape, to my
friends." This last was delivered with a nod to Patty. The kid took
his hand and shook it firmly. Patty wondered what would be made of
Arnold's reference to her as "friend". "Glad to meet you. My name's
Peter." Patty turned quickly to him, surprise written across her
face. "Peter? That's your name? After all this time you've finally
let the secret out." Realizing she was doing it again, she shut-up,
wondering why she was making a mess of this. She feared the kid,
Peter, was horning in on her territory. This was inane. She had
just met this man this morning. Okay, so she had held his
eleven-and-a-half inch cock in her hand on the walkway of their
building. Okay, so she had a great fantasy about him while
showering, the orgasm from it melting her to a puddle in her tub.
So what? So why was she feeling so...so...so left out? That was it.
There seemed to be this electricity passing back and forth between
these two men and she wasn't being included. Arnold's smile was one
of amusement. He probably was used to being stared at by men and
women alike, so the attentions of this young man were probably
nothing he couldn't handle, both physically and emotionally. He was
completely nonplused by the scrutiny his cock was coming under. He
seemed to enjoy it, in fact. He appeared to become a bit annoyed,
however, when Peter kept pumping his hand. Finally Arnold looked at
his arm going up and down and said, "I don't think I've gotten this
much of a workout since I left the gym two days ago." Peter
realized he was still shaking Arnold's hand and sheepishly let go
of it. He struggled for a moment to find his voice and then asked,
"Are you new around here? I don't remember seeing you on the beach.
I'm sure of that." "No, I just moved into town today as a matter of
fact." Peter shot an inquisitive look to Patty. "I took the
apartment next to Patty's. We met this morning when I was moving
in." "Oh, you're neighbors," Peter said with a bit too much relief
in his voice. "So you just met. This morning." "Yeah. This
morning." Arnold was becoming quite amused at Peter's reaction.
"Just friends. This morning." Peter realized he was being ribbed
and blushed. There was love in his eyes. Patty wondered how long
Arnold was going to let this go on. Surely he could see the boy's
reaction to him. Was he playing with him? Was he innocent of the
boy's attentions? Was he enjoying them? Could she have been so
wrong about this hunk with the magnificent cock? The truth was that
she had nothing to judge her assessment of his sexual preferences
on. Now that she thought about it his outrageous behavior and
apparent sexual openness seemed to match more that of some of her
gay friends. Maybe the reason he had been so easy about her
handling his cock was because it hadn't meant anything to him.
There had been no pressure of a relationship there so dropping his
dick into her hand had been just his way of introducing himself.
Her heart went cold. Was that magnificent cock to be nothing but a
source of fantasy for her? She thought truly envious thoughts
towards Peter. Images of him bent over the arm of a couch or
over-stuffed chair with this beautiful stud ramming his huge
hard-on up his ass, a look of painful glee plastered on the young
boy's face, caused her blood to temporarily run cold. She looked at
Arnold and saw he was staring at her as though she had just thrown
up on his favorite tie. She turned to Peter and his expression was
similar. What the hell were
Lolita Portal they looking at?
She then realized that she was pounding loudly on the top of the
reception desk. It was as though her body was throwing a temper
tantrum and it hadn't invited her. She stopped and took a deep
breath. Arnold waited for a moment and then said, "I figured as
long as I was down here I might as well take you up on that tour
you promised me. Can you spare a few minutes?" Peter, realizing
something was wrong, but obviously not guessing what it was, spoke
up. "I wouldn't mind showing him around if you're busy, Patty."
Patty tried very hard to keep both her countenance and her voice as
even as possible. "I suppose that would be entirely up to Arnold.
Uh...Shape?" "It might be nice if Peter could come along. He could
run me through some of the gear I don't recognize." Patty hoped
this was an effort not to hurt the boys feelings. They walked down
the stairs and began winding their way through the different
stations, Arnold occasionally stopping to ask a question about this
piece of gear or that. Several times he did indeed request that
Peter demonstrate a certain machine, seemingly unaware of its use.
Peter would eagerly jump to the task, putting on more weight than
he would normally use. He'd then whip off his sweat shirt,
revealing his developing physique, and begin to do full reps, his
breathing deep and concentrated. Arnold would watch each rep as
though there were some secret locked inside its performance, the
answer to which would grant him untold powers and abilities. When
Peter finished he would answer any questions Arnold had, and he
always had at least one, but would then withdraw and defer to Patty
as to the course of the tour or the next point that would be made.
Patty had no idea what was going on here. Arnold seemed to be
intensely interested in Peter. But then he seemed to be intensely
interested in herself when she was talking. Occasionally they would
get to a station where someone else was exercising and he would
wait until that person had finished using the apparatus completely
and then query them about this or that point. His interest in what
these people said seemed to be no less or more. Slowly it dawned on
Patty. He was just interested. He was fascinated. Every moment was
new to him and he didn't waste it by prejudging or evaluating
before all the data was in. He was completely open to what was
going on around him, allowing the experience to wash over and
around him like a rock in the middle of the stream. The water would
run up and past, changing its course, making little eddies, the
rock seemingly unaffected. But time and water would eventually mold
the rock, smoothing it, changing it. Arnold would take a long time
to absorb the information and experiences and then the change would
be noticed later. Patty stood back and watched the process, amazed
at the man's complexity. She thought it would be interesting to
know how he was processing the information about
Lolita Portal Peter. It
would take her a long time to straighten out her new image of the
boy. At least Arnold had the advantage (or was it an advantage) of
not knowing what a change had come over the lad since Arnold had
walked through the front door. Suddenly her heart went soft. Both
of these men were far more complex than she had given either of
them credit for. She found the thought of them being "tools"
suddenly very foreign. She knew she had made some quick assumptions
about Arnold, his most interesting aspect being his huge cock. The
kid. . . Peter. . . (she would have to get used to calling him that
real quick) had been, up until that moment, a pet, a mascot, a
gadfly. She thought of how he worked with the other people in the
gym, of how his efforts to improve himself and his dealings with
others had been such a success. Even how his ability to come to
terms with his own sexuality without being traumatized impressed
her now as she knew it should have impressed her
Lolita
Portal upon first perceiving it. By the end of the tour it was
obvious that Arnold had deflected the boy's infatuation. Instead,
he had forged a friendship with the young man based on a respect
for his vast knowledge of the equipment in the gym and his obvious
devotion to his own and others use of it to its best advantage. Had
there been any question about Arnold becoming a member of the club
before, those doubts were laid to rest. "You should be quite proud
to have Peter on your staff, Patty. He knows more about what's
going on around here than people I've talked to at other gyms who
are twice his age." Peter beamed. Patty hadn't realized it, but she
had never considered Peter "on the staff" of the gym. It now seemed
so obvious. They would be fools to let him get away. She made a
note to talk to him about this the first chance she got. She gave
him a knowing look and said, "We'll talk." "So, do you think you
might be joining us here?" Patty noticed Peter's stress on the word
"us". She smiled. You had to love him. Arnold seemed very
impressed. With Peter, with the gym, with the plants, with the
atmosphere. He looked around and nodded his head. "I'll bring in my
checkbook tomorrow. Do you have an annual fee?" "Plan on sticking
around a while, eh?" "Patty, with this kind of atmosphere and this
kind of staff, I'd be hard pressed to find anything else this good.
Yeah. I think I'll be around for a while." Patty's heart did a
flip-flop. Peter thrust his hand out and shook Arnold's, his face
covered by the biggest shit-eating grin Patty had ever seen. Okay,
a great friendship had been forged here, but she could tell that
Peter had his own agenda regarding that eleven-and-a-half inch
cock.
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