I had often wondered why the Village People had created an iconic song that all love to sing, especially at sporting events, called Y.M.C.A.; complete with the classic hand movements. They were a group of gay guys in New York who had such success with this song in the 70’s that they could never have believed it would turn into an American Classic. I believe the secret is hidden in between the lines of the lyrics that straight folks don’t even begin to understand. Many years later I understood with great sexual pleasure what is hidden in those lines. And why some of us really appreciate the Y.M.C.A. and all it has to offer.
After moving to Atlanta, I was looking to find a gym that had it all. A great workout area, gym for basketball and running track, yoga classes and roomy swimming pool to do laps, I was suggested by a new friend that I should check out the Decatur Y. It was convenient for me, just a short distance from midtown Atlanta. So, I took the tour and discovered it had all that I wanted for my diverse workout routine. My first visit was a workout success and a learning process for me as well. When I went to shower off the sweat on my exhausted body, I discovered in the deepest bowels of the locker room a large sign posted where all the men could see between the large steam room and Jacuzzi area. It stated in big bold letters: IF ANY MEMBER IS CAUGHT PARTICIPATING IN INAPPROPRIATE BEHAVIOR, THEY WOULD HAVE THEIR MEMBERSHIP REVOKED IMMEDIATELY. This was my first hint that once you entered the men’s locker room the Y.M.C.A. no longer stood for the Young Men’s Christian Association, but rather, more appropriately, the Young Men’s Caligula Association!!
Diversity in workout partners was a must for me as well. I met my first workout buddy two weeks after I started at the Y. He was Bryan who I called Bry and was a very attractive brother who had played college football at Clemson. Standing six feet five inches tall and weighing two-hundred fifteen pounds, he was the perfect partner to keep me motivated and working hard to build muscles like his. His only problem was that he had blown out his knee playing football and had to wear a brace, after numerous surgeries. He always commented on my full, muscular legs in a very straight man’s way, so I thought. He wasn’t at all clockable as a gay man trying to be masculine. He just was comfortably masculine.
Then there was Darnell my second workout partner who I called Nellie. He was married and older with two kids in high school. Naturally strong by way of his profession, he was a firefighter for the City of Decatur. His sense of humor kept me going on those hard workout days when I really rather be somewhere else. He always joked around with me and called me his “cracker boy” with those shapely legs. His saltine cracker partner who could run circles around him on the running track and the one he knew must be gay because I loved to run on that track when the brothers were playing league basketball games and I was always staring down at them from the track balcony without tripping over myself. Amazingly graceful were my legs he would chuckle and then smack me on the ass as he passed me on the running track. He privately nicknamed me Grace only when we were running on the track. Any other time, I was Dee.
Finally, there was Malik, who came from Kenya, to study medicine at Emory University medical school. It was very close and convenient for him to work out on such a demanding schedule. He informed me that his family was high up in the Kenyan government and very wealthy. They sent him abroad to study and bring back all the latest in medical technology, so they told him. But since he was openly gay, he said they had sent him away because he was a problem for them in all the affairs of the Kenyan tribal and political hierarchy. I felt bad for him and he could read that in my eyes. He’d always say to me, “Don’t feel sad for me, Dee. Because I love Atlanta and I can be proudly open and I have met you, my handsome blue-eyed boy!”
We did look good together working out. His deep, dark, skin, smooth and muscularly bulging, compact in a short, five six body, and me, six feet tall, slim upper body with big legs that were as hairy as a coconut. That was Mal’s description of me, “You are cute and hairy and tall with those big blue eyes.”
I had not participated in the “inappropriate behaviors” at the Y until early spring when Atlanta is covered in a yellow haze of pollen and gay men start running around the city topless and showing off their sleek, sweaty muscles. It’s my favorite time of year when my own hormonal pollen rises from a cold winters nap and needs to find somewhere to light. On the second Saturday in May, I showed up at the Y after a late, lite lunch to find all three of my workout buddies there and ready as if they knew I would stroll in sooner than later. We had never all worked out together, but this was turning out to be more fun than just a regular workout. After doing some free weight bench presses and squats, we decided to hit the gym and shoot some hoops. We played two on two, and of course, Mal wanted me as his teammate, so we lost all our games to the much taller and talented duo of Bry and Nellie. It was still fun guarding those guys close and boxing them out by pushing my ass into them so I could get a rebound. I believe it was that move which made way for what was to come next when we hit the showers.
I was first out of my workout gear and under the warm shower spray with my hair all soapy and sudsy. Suddenly, I felt this big hand slap my ass hard, stinging against my wet skin. I turned around looking through the blur of shampoo suds and there was Bry smiling devilishly at me while grabbing his huge dick. I knew he was carrying a big package because I had seen glimpses when we would dress out together. But this was different. He was standing behind me fully erect with that wet, eleven inches almost stabbing me in the back. I warned him to stand away from me or we might lose our memberships if he kept aiming that handsomely hard dick at my ass. He just chuckled and said, “Oh, you just wait. We have agreed on a plan of action that will be payback for all that ass play, boxing us out on the gym floor. Get clean and meet me in the steam room.”
I looked around the square, open room of the shower stalls, without any dividers, and saw Nellie standing beside Mal, both holding their soapy hard cocks in suggestive, cleaning positions. I thought to myself, “Damn I love springtime in Atlanta!”
I finished my shower focusing heavily on my ass and legs, bending over to suds them up and separating my cheeks to rinse all the soap suds thoroughly, making sure they all saw this locker room move. When I grabbed my skimpy little white towel off the hook to head towards the steam room, I saw that sign hanging there, understanding now why it had been printed in big bold letters. I wasn’t planning on heeding the warning, since gay guys had been told for way too long how they should act. And what about Nellie, he was married with two kids and acting as horny as any gay man I’ve ever met? Nope, if I lost my membership doing what comes naturally, then so be it.
Normally, you wouldn’t find me in the steam room, since I’m rather slim and don’t like to lose any weight by steaming it off. But, when Bry gave me the orders in his more than manly tone, I would not miss what they had in store, or in steam, if you rather. I sat on my towel as all my workout buddies came through the doorway like hot, steamy sexual warriors. Bry sat beside me and moved me to my knees, forcing my mouth down over his gorgeous dick. It was cut, long and slender, except for the plump, juicy head. And I had no problem swallowing it until that head hit my tonsils making me gag. I always love a good sucking dick challenge. Bry seemed to enjoy it by his moaning breath I could hear clearly. Nellie took to his knees behind me and started chewing on my ass cheeks. I jumped, startled in a good way, looking behind me as he smiled and spread my cheeks for more ass eating. Mal was our lookout man, standing by the door to warn us if any official intruders began scouting out “inappropriate behaviors.”
Once again, I felt bad for Malik who was playing with his dick from a distance. Through the steamy, air I could not believe my eyes. They say short men have been rewarded by having huge dicks and Mal’s was longer than Bry’s by at least a couple of inches. I had never seen such a big dick. Long, dark chocolate stick, except for the pink head which was covered by foreskin when not at attention, I knew I was going to be challenged by that package, but what a kind and sweet man he was to play the role of lookout. I would find a way to reward him in a more one-on-one kind of way, no doubt.
Suddenly, Mal whistled out and all action quickly stopped. When the steam room door opened we all sat perfectly quiet, with our towels covering our dicks, just like elementary school kids did when they had been given the sign that the teacher was coming back from her smoke break, well-behaved men acting like horny boys, all still and minding our own business. Steaming away the fat and stress our lives had created for us. It was just an older, really fat, man who came to steam and sweat instead of working off that fat by working out. And he probably wanted to watch what was going down in here as well. But Bry wasn’t having is cover blown nope he got up and left the steam room, so each of us did the same at spaced intervals. We met back at the shower room to cool off and rinse off the sweat. Then, Bry said, “Follow me.”
He lead me to an empty room with a massage table that was used only part-time by the masseuse. We all fit into that dark small room and Mal watched out for us by the door, again. Bry didn’t waste any time and lifted me on the table. I was stretched out over the narrow part of the table with my legs up in the air. Nellie bent down and started rimming my asshole with his long tongue, while Bry moved to the other side of the table and held my head in his hands, so he could face fuck me with his long dick. I could take more of it since my head was leaning back off the table, opening up my throat. This lasted a good ten minutes. Nellie ate my ass like he was a professional, sticking his tongue deep inside and getting me so wet with slobber that I felt it running down my crack. Then Bry couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled his dick out of my mouth and reached under the massage table, where he had hidden a gold Magnum condom before all this had started.
Nellie moved around the table and fed me his dick just like Bry had done. Nellie’s dick was shorter but fat and I had to stretch my jaws out to take him deeper down my throat. I bet his wife loved him fucking her, since they say a fatter dick is better for pussy fucking and hitting that clit. Bry rolled on the condom and pushed into me with ease. I grunted when his fat head reached deep inside me, but he felt so good and I was so wet that he could pound my asshole just like he wanted. He knew how to long dick me and would pull all the way out, popping that head in suddenly. Damn it was too good and my prostate was getting stroked just right. I thought I might be the first to cum, but no, Nellie needed some man-to-man hot sex to please his bisexual nature. No woman can give him that. He pulled out of my mouth and started beating his cock with such fierceness. I imagined him fighting a five alarm fire with such strength when he began to cum all over my face, moving his dick in my mouth so I could taste his strong seed.
Now this is a Y workout unlike any other! After Nellie finished, he was nice enough to be the lookout man and told Mal to go get some of that good head. Mal really was a nice guy because he wanted me to be treated with all the pleasure I could stand. While Bry was still fucking me, Mal took my dick in his mouth and started sucking like he had fantasized for so long. I was in heaven and couldn’t control the extreme sensations from deep inside my ass to the tip of my dick. I grunted and barely spoke, telling Mal, “I’m about to shoot my load and it’s going to be a big one!”
I rose up to see Bry’s eyes rolling back as he stroked me harder than I’ve ever taken it before. He was getting ready to cum at the same time. I bit the back of my hand to keep from hollering out when my load shot deep down Mal’s throat in more blasts than I can remember. Bry’s dick head expanded inside of me and he let his load go deep, stroking until he just stopped suddenly, his legs shaking. My vision was blurred but not bad enough to not see Mal spitting out some of my cum on his hard dick and stroking, hard, with both hands. He moved over to my mouth and forced his big head inside while he was still stroking that huge dick. In just a matter of minutes, he was feeding me his young, salty, sweet cum which shot all the way back to my throat. Now our workout was complete, as we all hit the showers and dressed quietly, too tired to say much more than, “Peace out or Deuces.”
I must let you know that Malik and I are now partners and have been together for almost ten years. He never wants to go back to Kenya and has been practicing medicine in Atlanta for five of those ten years. I am very happy and can take fourteen inches up my ass without any pain. Of course, guys, I did measure it early on in our dating days because I needed to know what was filling me so full and making me so happy. His love for me and mine for him does the same as well. But, we no longer workout at the Y, too many good-looking distractions, however I did teach Mal how to hand spell out Y.M.C.A. as part of his American history training. Every time we hear that song played at a sporting event or party we just smile at each other, devilishly, and then when we get back home we fuck for hours, remembering the good old days.
David W. Bradburn aka dwb42461