Anyone else miss the old days when gym showers were large and open, with a parade of cocks on display? I started going to the gym in the 90s, when I was 18. Back then the only gym we had in town - or at least the only one close enough for me to walk to - was on the college campus. The leisure centre there was an old 70s building, corridors and large spacious rooms. There were two big changing rooms and shower areas for guys to use (similar for the ladies), one by the swimming pool and the other by the sports hall and gym. It was my favourite place to be.
I was never really “into dudes”, but I knew enough about my sexuality to understand that cocks were fascinating, that seeing guys with their meat swinging around was a turn on, that watching guys trying to hide their rampant erections in the showers was enough to have my dick rigid and dripping pre in expectation of a good wank.
Back then I didn’t really understand myself. I didn’t know that it was possible for guys to be pretty straight in every other regard but just enjoy looking at cocks, wanking with guys and slapping dicks together. I didn’t even think about the prospect of being bisexual or bicurious, in my mind there were straight men and gay guys who fucked each other. There was no grey area, no prospect of men just enjoying certain things together.
Even checking out other cocks at the urinals hadn’t really registered with me. I would always look. I didn’t understand back then that every guy looks, that every man checks out the dicks around him when he’s taking a piss. Maybe I thought I was just different. I loved pussy, I loved my girlfriend and we’d had a lot of fun together. All the porn magazines I wanked off to were straight porn mags, loads of big tits and hairy pussies, but a few big cocks that always seemed to get my attention, too.
I would go to the gym at least three times a week. There’s no doubt my visits were mostly fuelled by the prospect of dicks being seen. It’s funny how an interest like that can really help a guy out. I would work out for an hour or two and head to the showers with my dick half stiff hoping for a good display. Without that need to see other penises the gym probably wouldn’t have been a big part of my life, I wouldn’t have become the muscled young man I did.
Whenever I had the showers to myself I would hastily grab my cock and wank off, shooting a geyser of cum all over the floor. If there were other guys in there I would enjoy the display and either wait until they were gone and stroke myself to a splashing finish or hastily finish up so I could leave and head to the little patch of woods nearby and unload there before finishing my walk home.
Most of the time I would have another wank the moment I got back. I was always a pretty fast reloader back in those days.
I’ll admit that my schedule started to change based on the schedules of other guys there. I started out going at the quiet times, moved to the busiest times, and eventually found slots in-between where there would be a good number of men working out but not too many that the showers were too busy. That’s when I started picking out favourites.
I remember three men specifically. Something about them caught my interest and I started paying more attention to their schedules. Yeah, I guess it was a little bit creepy, but you have to remember I was a confused and horny 18 year old with testosterone bouncing around my body and far too much cum to shoot. I was thinking with my dick, and I started planning my shower visits depending on my preferred guys.
One was a dude in his mid-20s, a real footballer looking guy. He was dark haired and lean, worked out in football shorts and a vest. I remember the first time I saw him in the showers and his long penis was half hard the whole time. He was a lot like me, 7 inches, uncut and with a long spout of foreskin hanging from the end. His dick would reach out curved from his plump balls below a scruffy bush of pubes. I never saw him fully hard but he would play with it a little more than you’d think was reasonable. i never saw him properly wanking off but he would definitely enjoy stroking it more than most. He wasn’t bold about it, just sneaky rubs and a few foreskin tugs while his dick became a little longer and stood out a little more proud from his tight pink balls.
The next guy was in his early 30s, a real muscle man. I’d seen him working out maybe five times before I eventually timed things right and got to the showers the same moment as him, we basically walked into the showers together, silent and naked. That’s when I saw his incredible cock for the first time and I was addicted. He was a huge man, in every respect. He must have been about 6’5”, big shoulders, massive pecs, amazing abs, and an 8” cock, at least. It was thick too. He was circumcised, which is unusual in the UK. I think his was the only cut cock I’d ever seen in real live up until that moment.
The first time I saw him in the showers we were on opposite sides of the room. There were two other guys in there, friends just talking while they showered. I watched him cautiously while doing the usual dance of turning around again and again, rinsing off, soaping up, kind of trying to hide my own 7” stiffy but not really. I watched his incredible dick filling up and thickening out, the helmet swelling while his huge hands explored his body. He got a little harder when he cleaned his cock and balls, the big round orbs swinging in their loose bag between his giant thighs. He had a thick cable of a vein snaking down from his short pubes to about two thirds the way to his helmet. Although there were several feet of space between us where the water flowed down into drains in the middle of the room I could see so many details of his dick.
I swear I almost shot my load hands free just watching him that first time.
It felt like he was oblivious to everyone else. He was just doing his thing, more than a little hard, but not fully rigid and ready to wank it if that makes sense. I can’t even begin to imagine the amount of cum loads I shot thinking about him and his dick, imagining what it would be like to grab it and tug him off, wondering if he would grab mine and milk my load out for me.
The last guy was an older gentleman, probably in his mid 40s but one of the fittest men of that age I had ever seen. I could tell he was a runner. He just had that super ripped and lean body, like a rock climber or cyclist or something. He had the biggest cock of all the guys I’d seen. I followed him in there one evening after watching him working out in tight cycling shorts and noticing the outline of his long dick. I wasn’t disappointed when I caught him in the showers. I arrived there probably a minute after he did, no one else around, and I knew I’d caught him in the middle of a wank. His 9” dick was rock hard and pointing out ahead of him, his skin pulled back from the narrow tip, his balls low and swaying with every movement. His dick curved to the right like mine.
I was stiff already, but his proud attitude only excited me more. I was used to seeing guys getting hard and trying to hide their dick from whoever else was in that big tiled room, but he didn’t even try to disguise his erection. He stepped out of the water to soap up with his long cock just freely bouncing around. His foamy hands roamed down his tight abs where dark hair made a trail from his trimmed pubes up to his pecs and spread out in a sparse pattern. I watched his hands sliding along his solid stick, his body leaning back just a little. Thinking back to it now he was definitely putting on a display for my benefit that first time. While I watched him I felt my own pride swelling, my own confidence growing. I let my dick wag and twitch freely, almost daring myself not to turn toward the wall.
There was absolutely no shame in his actions, no attempt to hide himself. It was so refreshing to see and I guess it just made me feel more relaxed about being hard in the presence of another man. If he didn’t care that I could see his rock hard dick why should I feel embarrassed about my own erection? His hands slid along his steely cock with freedom, regardless of the fact that I was just feet away. His wedding ring confused me, but I guessed he was just an exhibitionist. I don’t think I caught him glancing in my direction even once, but he obviously knew I was there, we were only about 6 feet apart on opposite walls.
Usually I would wait until the other guy had gone back to the changing room and I’d follow moments after, eager to see more of them before they slid their boxer shorts up and hid their dick, but this time I had to get out of there. I fled, quickly walking to the changing room with my erection swinging from one hip to the other. My heart was racing. I didn’t even towel off properly, I just slid my trackies up and put my t-shirt on and got out of there by my usual route, my dick still raging and dripping precum. I had to carry my gym bag in front of me to disguise my state from passing people. I hurried to my usual spot in the trees, a little cut through path the students on campus had trod to get to the nearby bridge more quickly.
I tugged the front of my trackies down and grasped my cock, warm and rigid and damp in my hand. My foreskin was drenched with gooey pre, dripping from my tip and quickly coating my fingers while I slipped my hand along myself quickly.
I barely gave it a few rubs before my climax took over and my stiffy reared up and started slinging a massive load of cum from my helmet, splashing out in leaping arcs. My body was shaking, my balls ached with the force of it as ropes of semen erupted several feet ahead of me, drenching the green leaves in a milky mess reaching out from my position. I was hosing down the plants with my jizz, I could hear the heavy slop slapping against the foliage.
Visions of the guy and his amazing cock so hard and proud filled my mind. I imagined him looking at me and masturbating his tool, stroking his cock brazenly for me, smiling while he pumped his fist along his meaty pipe and unloading his cream, firing it over the shower floor while he stared at me. I imagined myself doing to the same while he relieved himself of his thick white milk, his eyes watching my cock while it convulsed and slung my juices all over the place.
The sense of masculine communal pleasure, the connection, the understanding our imaginary selves had, that was what seemed to grasp me so hard and make it such an intense experience.
It might have been just thirty seconds but it felt like I was there for longer, just standing there slowly playing with my spent cock, my load still dripping from my tip while my foreskin slipped over my gooey end, back and forth, the little kicks of orgasm still firing off inside me but gradually slowing while my dick softened to become a meaty mass of an appendage thickly handing from my body.
That had to have been one of the most intense wanks I’d ever had up until that point. Sure, I’d had quick wanks in the toilets or had those times where I was in bed and so horny I couldn’t last a minute before I was slinging jizz right up to my face, but this was something else. I shot so much cum, and it was all because of his incredible dick and his brazenness.
I was happy to carry on with my routine, spying on men and enjoying their nakedness from a little distance, but the next week things would change me forever.
I was never really “into dudes”, but I knew enough about my sexuality to understand that cocks were fascinating, that seeing guys with their meat swinging around was a turn on, that watching guys trying to hide their rampant erections in the showers was enough to have my dick rigid and dripping pre in expectation of a good wank.
Back then I didn’t really understand myself. I didn’t know that it was possible for guys to be pretty straight in every other regard but just enjoy looking at cocks, wanking with guys and slapping dicks together. I didn’t even think about the prospect of being bisexual or bicurious, in my mind there were straight men and gay guys who fucked each other. There was no grey area, no prospect of men just enjoying certain things together.
Even checking out other cocks at the urinals hadn’t really registered with me. I would always look. I didn’t understand back then that every guy looks, that every man checks out the dicks around him when he’s taking a piss. Maybe I thought I was just different. I loved pussy, I loved my girlfriend and we’d had a lot of fun together. All the porn magazines I wanked off to were straight porn mags, loads of big tits and hairy pussies, but a few big cocks that always seemed to get my attention, too.
I would go to the gym at least three times a week. There’s no doubt my visits were mostly fuelled by the prospect of dicks being seen. It’s funny how an interest like that can really help a guy out. I would work out for an hour or two and head to the showers with my dick half stiff hoping for a good display. Without that need to see other penises the gym probably wouldn’t have been a big part of my life, I wouldn’t have become the muscled young man I did.
Whenever I had the showers to myself I would hastily grab my cock and wank off, shooting a geyser of cum all over the floor. If there were other guys in there I would enjoy the display and either wait until they were gone and stroke myself to a splashing finish or hastily finish up so I could leave and head to the little patch of woods nearby and unload there before finishing my walk home.
Most of the time I would have another wank the moment I got back. I was always a pretty fast reloader back in those days.
I’ll admit that my schedule started to change based on the schedules of other guys there. I started out going at the quiet times, moved to the busiest times, and eventually found slots in-between where there would be a good number of men working out but not too many that the showers were too busy. That’s when I started picking out favourites.
I remember three men specifically. Something about them caught my interest and I started paying more attention to their schedules. Yeah, I guess it was a little bit creepy, but you have to remember I was a confused and horny 18 year old with testosterone bouncing around my body and far too much cum to shoot. I was thinking with my dick, and I started planning my shower visits depending on my preferred guys.
One was a dude in his mid-20s, a real footballer looking guy. He was dark haired and lean, worked out in football shorts and a vest. I remember the first time I saw him in the showers and his long penis was half hard the whole time. He was a lot like me, 7 inches, uncut and with a long spout of foreskin hanging from the end. His dick would reach out curved from his plump balls below a scruffy bush of pubes. I never saw him fully hard but he would play with it a little more than you’d think was reasonable. i never saw him properly wanking off but he would definitely enjoy stroking it more than most. He wasn’t bold about it, just sneaky rubs and a few foreskin tugs while his dick became a little longer and stood out a little more proud from his tight pink balls.
The next guy was in his early 30s, a real muscle man. I’d seen him working out maybe five times before I eventually timed things right and got to the showers the same moment as him, we basically walked into the showers together, silent and naked. That’s when I saw his incredible cock for the first time and I was addicted. He was a huge man, in every respect. He must have been about 6’5”, big shoulders, massive pecs, amazing abs, and an 8” cock, at least. It was thick too. He was circumcised, which is unusual in the UK. I think his was the only cut cock I’d ever seen in real live up until that moment.
The first time I saw him in the showers we were on opposite sides of the room. There were two other guys in there, friends just talking while they showered. I watched him cautiously while doing the usual dance of turning around again and again, rinsing off, soaping up, kind of trying to hide my own 7” stiffy but not really. I watched his incredible dick filling up and thickening out, the helmet swelling while his huge hands explored his body. He got a little harder when he cleaned his cock and balls, the big round orbs swinging in their loose bag between his giant thighs. He had a thick cable of a vein snaking down from his short pubes to about two thirds the way to his helmet. Although there were several feet of space between us where the water flowed down into drains in the middle of the room I could see so many details of his dick.
I swear I almost shot my load hands free just watching him that first time.
It felt like he was oblivious to everyone else. He was just doing his thing, more than a little hard, but not fully rigid and ready to wank it if that makes sense. I can’t even begin to imagine the amount of cum loads I shot thinking about him and his dick, imagining what it would be like to grab it and tug him off, wondering if he would grab mine and milk my load out for me.
The last guy was an older gentleman, probably in his mid 40s but one of the fittest men of that age I had ever seen. I could tell he was a runner. He just had that super ripped and lean body, like a rock climber or cyclist or something. He had the biggest cock of all the guys I’d seen. I followed him in there one evening after watching him working out in tight cycling shorts and noticing the outline of his long dick. I wasn’t disappointed when I caught him in the showers. I arrived there probably a minute after he did, no one else around, and I knew I’d caught him in the middle of a wank. His 9” dick was rock hard and pointing out ahead of him, his skin pulled back from the narrow tip, his balls low and swaying with every movement. His dick curved to the right like mine.
I was stiff already, but his proud attitude only excited me more. I was used to seeing guys getting hard and trying to hide their dick from whoever else was in that big tiled room, but he didn’t even try to disguise his erection. He stepped out of the water to soap up with his long cock just freely bouncing around. His foamy hands roamed down his tight abs where dark hair made a trail from his trimmed pubes up to his pecs and spread out in a sparse pattern. I watched his hands sliding along his solid stick, his body leaning back just a little. Thinking back to it now he was definitely putting on a display for my benefit that first time. While I watched him I felt my own pride swelling, my own confidence growing. I let my dick wag and twitch freely, almost daring myself not to turn toward the wall.
There was absolutely no shame in his actions, no attempt to hide himself. It was so refreshing to see and I guess it just made me feel more relaxed about being hard in the presence of another man. If he didn’t care that I could see his rock hard dick why should I feel embarrassed about my own erection? His hands slid along his steely cock with freedom, regardless of the fact that I was just feet away. His wedding ring confused me, but I guessed he was just an exhibitionist. I don’t think I caught him glancing in my direction even once, but he obviously knew I was there, we were only about 6 feet apart on opposite walls.
Usually I would wait until the other guy had gone back to the changing room and I’d follow moments after, eager to see more of them before they slid their boxer shorts up and hid their dick, but this time I had to get out of there. I fled, quickly walking to the changing room with my erection swinging from one hip to the other. My heart was racing. I didn’t even towel off properly, I just slid my trackies up and put my t-shirt on and got out of there by my usual route, my dick still raging and dripping precum. I had to carry my gym bag in front of me to disguise my state from passing people. I hurried to my usual spot in the trees, a little cut through path the students on campus had trod to get to the nearby bridge more quickly.
I tugged the front of my trackies down and grasped my cock, warm and rigid and damp in my hand. My foreskin was drenched with gooey pre, dripping from my tip and quickly coating my fingers while I slipped my hand along myself quickly.
I barely gave it a few rubs before my climax took over and my stiffy reared up and started slinging a massive load of cum from my helmet, splashing out in leaping arcs. My body was shaking, my balls ached with the force of it as ropes of semen erupted several feet ahead of me, drenching the green leaves in a milky mess reaching out from my position. I was hosing down the plants with my jizz, I could hear the heavy slop slapping against the foliage.
Visions of the guy and his amazing cock so hard and proud filled my mind. I imagined him looking at me and masturbating his tool, stroking his cock brazenly for me, smiling while he pumped his fist along his meaty pipe and unloading his cream, firing it over the shower floor while he stared at me. I imagined myself doing to the same while he relieved himself of his thick white milk, his eyes watching my cock while it convulsed and slung my juices all over the place.
The sense of masculine communal pleasure, the connection, the understanding our imaginary selves had, that was what seemed to grasp me so hard and make it such an intense experience.
It might have been just thirty seconds but it felt like I was there for longer, just standing there slowly playing with my spent cock, my load still dripping from my tip while my foreskin slipped over my gooey end, back and forth, the little kicks of orgasm still firing off inside me but gradually slowing while my dick softened to become a meaty mass of an appendage thickly handing from my body.
That had to have been one of the most intense wanks I’d ever had up until that point. Sure, I’d had quick wanks in the toilets or had those times where I was in bed and so horny I couldn’t last a minute before I was slinging jizz right up to my face, but this was something else. I shot so much cum, and it was all because of his incredible dick and his brazenness.
I was happy to carry on with my routine, spying on men and enjoying their nakedness from a little distance, but the next week things would change me forever.
