Hi all, this is chapter 1 of the Reader-Generated Keyword Story! Thanks again to everyone who contributed. Enjoy!
Everyone is 18+ and fully consenting.
Chapter 1: Accident
I started going to the campus rec center in September because I've got some hair on my balls now and I thought it was time to get my muscle game going.
That's the honest version. The longer version is that my roommate slept until noon, the dining hall didn't open until eight, and I had an hour to kill before my first class. The gym was free with my student ID. I had a base from soccer through high school, decent enough that a couple small programs had looked at me before I decided I didn't want my whole college experience to be about a sport. So I had an athletic base, but zero general skill to just “work out”. I didn't know anything about actually lifting, about programming, about how to get giant arms or look like a model.
When I got to the gym, the first thing I felt was a slight flash of fear. I was alone, I didn’t know what I was doing, and there was a certain smell that made me feel like a bully might be around any corner.
But I didn’t exactly encounter a bully. I encountered Charlie.
He was doing Romanian deadlifts in the free weight section when I came in, and I noticed him because he stood out. He was tall, but not heavy, lean and defined rather than big. He looked like he had put in years of actual work. He had dark brown hair, slightly curly, cut short enough to stay out of his face, a slight tan that looked year-round. When he moved, I could see everything working underneath, no excess anywhere, just defined muscular form, the human body the way artists sculpt it. His arms looked bigger every time he bent down and came back up. His chest filled his tank top in a way that made me self conscious of my own body, but also motivated.
I made a quick plan to copy him without being obvious about it. I grabbed a smaller version of the weights he was using and posted up two stations down from him. The gym was mostly empty, so it was really just us on this side of the room. I started doing reps, with poor form, and kept an eye on him out of the corner of my eye, trying to self-correct my form.
He caught me watching immediately, and instead of ignoring it he just said, "Hinge at the hip, not the lower back," and went back to his set.
I had no idea what he was talking about. I did another rep, slightly differently, when he chuckled like I was a little boy trying to copy his older brother.
He came over. “I’ll show you. I’m Charlie.”
He put his hands on my hips. “These go straight up and down. Bend here.”
He put a hand on my lower back and pressed applied some pressure, directing me downward. The physical touch of a stranger who looked like a god was part embarrassing and part exciting. It felt good just getting attention from him, even if it highlighted my awkwardness.
“Thanks,” I said as I performed the motion under his guidance.
“Now, bend more,” he said.
I did a full rep, slowly, as his hands followed my body, holding me steady.
“That’s it,” he said.
I suddenly felt a light, nervous tingle in my crotch that always happens when I’m feeling shy. I finished the rep quickly and dropped the weights, reaching to adjust myself quickly before I got an awkward boner.
He chuckled, watching me for a moment. His eyes narrowed, like he was realizing something about me. I feared that he was picking up on everything I was insecure about. In my head he could tell in that moment that I was a virgin, a nerd, a porn addict, that I wet the bed until I was twelve. I felt my face turn red.
“Don’t worry, man,” he said casually, interrupting my mental spiral, “Happens to everyone.”
He picked up his weights, and did his next set with a focused expression.
I felt my body relax. If awkward boners weren't embarrassing, then I felt like I could be myself around this guy. Maybe life really would be different. I could have everything I want.
I was already out of breath. It was hard doing it correctly, even with the small weights.
“I need to move down on the weights.”
“No shame in that,” he said, shooting me a wink and returning to his impressive stack of steel, landing a few more reps.
—[]—
I tried not to follow him around for the whole sesh, but he ended up giving me a few more pointers. After an hour or so, I was sweaty as hell.
We were done around the same time, and he asked if I was heading to the showers.
“Yeah,” I said sort of sheepishly, already feeling shy again and hoping my body didn’t react.
We walked back together, and that was when I got a fuller picture of what I was dealing with.
He undressed quickly without thinking about it, his bare body inches away from me, all the meaty curves of lean muscle staring me in the face. He didn’t even have to put in effort to show off. His body was that impressive on its own already. I had no idea how to be that comfortable in a locker room when I was standing next to him.
I dropped my clothes, wrapped a towel around myself, and stepped away to the shower room without saying anything, basically looking forward to escaping the tension his body was giving me.
I exhaled in relief when I saw that it was completely empty, but Charlie was right behind me, carrying his towel and letting it all hang out. Before I even closed my shower stall curtain, he took the shower stall directly across from mine, which I registered as a choice because there were other open stalls. I watched him look around for where to drop his bag, but apparently all the hooks were broken on his side.
“Here,” he said, crossing the space between us, “Lemme put this here.”
He hung his bag on the hook next to my head, in my stall, and returned back to his shower, grabbing some soap and turning on his water, quickly sudsing himself up while leaving the curtain wide open.
I stood there for a second. Then I left mine open too, in the spirit of things. Plus, his bag was on my side. I didn’t want to hide it from him.
We were the only two in the whole shower place, and he started talking to me at normal volume, even though it echoed far in the tiled room. I got under my hot water and felt a moment of relief as he gave me additional info about hip hinge mechanics and things like that. I didn’t even respond, hardly able to talk.
I tried to keep my eyes where they were supposed to be, and mostly failed. He was built the way I wanted to be built, which made looking feel at least partially like research. His pubes were lush but trimmed, compared to my sparser growth. Everything about him seemed intentional, every inch of his body, even the parts that were pure genetics, like his oversized dick.
I never noticed when we were on the floor, but he had a big pile of meat between his legs. I had successfully avoided looking when we were at the lockers, but here in the shower, with Charlie’s eyes closed under the water, paying no attention to me at all, I couldn’t escape the temptation and stole several glances in a row. His pole wasn’t hard, but it was thicker than mine was at maximum capacity. And the thing hung down below his balls, wiggling as he shifted around, like a heavy meat bat. It was a real man’s dick.
At some point, he caught me looking. His eyes scanned my body up and down, and then met my gaze again.
"Yours have some catching up to do," he said.
I laughed because I didn't know what else to do. "Sorry."
"Don't be." He turned back into his stream. "Look all you want. You're a freshman, right?"
"Yeah."
He nodded as if that explained it.
He looked back down at himself, then back at me, easy about it.
"Go ahead and feel 'em," he said.
I paused, covering my newly arrived anxiety boner with my hand. He didn't say anything about it. I looked around to confirm we were alone together, while he patiently eyed me, waiting.
I stepped across the space between the stalls and reached out my hand. I lifted the orbs in my hands. The entire package was indeed hefty. It had a weight of its own.
"It's heavy," I said.
There was silence for a moment as I rolled the kiwi fruits around in my hand, feeling the flesh of it all. And the big sausage resting on top of them draped across my wrist, flinching slightly with a mind of its own.
Charlie looked down at what I was doing and chuckled. "You woke up the beast."
He pulled away and turned around toward his running water, his big, round butt telling me the moment had ended.
I crossed back to my shower and continued soaping myself up mindlessly. I squirted shampoo into my hand for like the fourth time, my mind blank, basically forgetting how to be human for a moment.
After a minute of quiet, I attempted a joke.
“These walls have probably seen a million loads of jizz over the years,” I said, adding a nervous chuckle at the end, before immediately regretting my words.
I bit my lip as I kept rubbing soap over my body, trying not to seem nervous. I glanced at him, and he was looking loosely in my direction. Something shifted slightly in his expression, some mix of a chuckle and a sign of more workout lecture coming.
"Best way to drop your testosterone," he said.
"What, jerking off?" I said, confused.
"Yeah dude. You gotta keep your essence inside you. That makes your output harder."
I stood there with shampoo in my hair and suds around my crotch. "Seriously?"
"Dead serious." He said it like it was as obvious as the hip hinge thing. Like I'd been making a basic technical error my whole life and that I should know better.
"You want gains or you want five minutes of make-my-peepee-feel-good?"
I laughed, and he smiled back at me. I didn't really answer. He turned his shower off and I followed suit.
I was sitting on the bench pulling on my underwear, relieved that I had somehow avoided embarrassing myself for an entire session with this golden god, when he suddenly appeared next to me, his wet, naked pile of muscles reaching across me for his bag. It was on the hook above my head.
His body came across mine, and when his chest brushed my forehead, I flinched, my leg kicking out randomly like a reflex. I accidentally knocked him sideways and he fell onto me somehow.
We went down together in kind of a slow motion, catastrophic mutual fall onto the bench. My head hit the hard surface, and I was dazed for a second. By the time I realized what happened, his feet had slipped and he was face down across the bench, his hips across my face, his towel nowhere around, and his thick and meaty dick was mashed right up against my mouth.
I froze. He didn’t move, but his dick started to lengthen, pushing past my lips. I only registered the taste of skin as his dick started to penetrate me. The head of it was already touching my tongue, and in less than a second his swelling meat was pushing against the inside of my cheek.
He groaned. "Ahh, my knee."
He still didn't move. I think he genuinely couldn't for a second, shifting his weight carefully, trying to get his knee sorted out, and every small adjustment pressed him further into my mouth. I guess he didn’t notice that his dick was entering my mouth, and as it started to get harder, which was its own problem, I focused more and more on being able to breathe through the embarrassment. And now I really couldn't move without making the situation dramatically worse in a different direction.
So I waited.
His weight held him in place, and my mouth was occupied so I couldn’t really tell him what was happening, which apparently he still hadn’t realized, too distracted by hitting his knee. My face was shadowed by his abs. My naked body lay back with my underwear halfway up my legs, further trapping me in position while his dick threatened to enter my throat as it continued to grow, stretching my lips apart.
I tried to talk, but only mumbled around a mouthful of cock. I felt it twitch when I moved my lips and tongue. I didn’t hate the feeling of having him there. In fact, I kind of liked it. If he was right that jerking off got rid of your testosterone, then maybe having his dick in my mouth was actually giving me some of his. I licked it again, rubbing my tongue on the sensitive underside of the head, and felt it twitch again in my mouth.
He must have noticed what was happening at this point, but he held there, almost like it was on purpose, except that didn’t make any sense. He was quiet, except for occasionally hissing, waiting for his knee to feel better, I guess.
At some point the line got blurry between waiting for this to end and licking his cock for my own amusement. I swirled my tongue around the head and felt his body shift positions above me. As he shifted around, I knew he must be trying to find a position where his knee didn’t hurt anymore, but it almost felt like he was keeping his dick in my mouth on purpose.
The only option was to finish what I had started on accident.
I held my hands on his hips to steady myself and moved as much as I could, taking his pole in and out, centimeters at a time in the tight angle. I breathed through my nose when I wasn’t blocked, and started to feel some pre-cum escape his shaft. The taste didn’t bother me. It was kind of good in a weird way. When he was maximum size, the thing stretched my lips completely, and he touched the back of my throat even though he wasn’t even half-way into my mouth. The flesh python this dude was carrying had a mind of its own, and his hips started moving gently, rubbing himself against my tongue while I used all my muster to apply suction and tongue pressure where it counted most.
He finished suddenly, with a short exhale and a quiet, but deep groan. His hand found my hair and squeezed lightly as a spurt of cum entered my mouth. That was the first thing that actually shocked me. It was confirmation that this had been a sexual release. There was no room for denial. I became aware of my own boner raging between my legs, as I braced for more of his seed to enter my mouth. I couldn’t really swallow from that angle, so it sort of just flowed out of my mouth, streaking my cheeks as he pressed in a few more times, finishing his orgasm. He pulled my hair a little, just enough to make my head tingle, as his meat stretched my lips in pulses and pumped out his strong essence.
I held on and took all of it, until the flow stopped, and his pulsing calmed, and he carefully extracted himself, standing up swiftly. Apparently his knee was all better. He grabbed his towel and threw it over his shoulder, looking at himself in the mirror, his half hard dick swinging proudly, red and apparently satisfied. I wiped my face as I watched him.
"You alright?" he asked.
“Yeah,” I said, clearing my throat from the remnants of his seed. “Sorry about that.”
He almost chuckled. “Happens to the best of us.”
“So you just, uh… lost some of your man juice…” I said, wondering how that fit into his science.
“Guess it was a gift to you,” he said. “Call it a reward for a good first day.”
I chuckled this time, knowing it was a joke, but the accidental blowjob had actually felt good to give. And the warmth in my stomach when he called it a “reward” almost scared me, given how much I liked it.
I stood up and turned on the shower again for a second to rinse my mouth. My hands were unsteady and my face was hot.
He threw me my towel as I turned off the water.
“Nice to know you stick with it… when times are tough,” he said, looking at me.
I just nodded. He reached for my hip and held me tight.
"Hip hinge," he said. "Think about it next session."
And he was gone.
I leaned back against the shower stall, barely covering myself, my mind reeling. I was so relieved that he was cool about the accidental blowjob, that I didn’t even have the bandwidth to be confused about everything that had happened.
I wanted to be like Charlie. I already knew that, one shower session in.
I'd come into college feeling like I was finally realizing myself as a “man”. But my experience in the gym that day, I just felt like a little boy again. Not in a bad way, exactly, more like I'd come to a place where some people had a “manual” for life, and I just didn’t have access to it yet. But I knew if I got close with the right guy, I would get what I needed.