The Giver

As Craig moved around the gym floor, working the various apparatuses, it became increasingly obvious that the young man, bumbling, barely legal, tall and gangly with a pimply horse face, was zeroing in on Craig as his object of worship.

It was late in the evening, just as Craig had planned it to be. Dex, the gym’s night manager was a friend of his—someone he’d helped develop an indifferent body into a terrific one and to transform a complex about sexual relations with men into confidence and an ability to seduce and dominate.

So, Craig went over and talked with Dex briefly at the reception desk when he saw the gangly youth follow another of the guys with a great body off the floor and to the showers, no doubt hoping to get a look at the guy in the altogether and have a foundation on which to build a fantasy of a great sexual experience. In his absence—temporary, Craig was sure, as it was oh so evident the youth was most interested in following Craig to the shower room—Craig made a request of Dex and received a key.

As the crowd on the floor thinned out, Craig kept exercising, slowly and deliberately, giving the young guy all of the eye candy the youth could wish for.

At length it was just Craig and the pimple-faced, frustratingly shy young guy. Even Dex had packed it in.