Sexy Gay Stories - Volume Five - three m/m short stories

backs of his big hands as he fixed the tension levels on the machine. ‘Are you waiting on the torso?’ he asked me. 
    His question snapped me awake. I felt embarrassed for staring and wanted to answer, “Yes, you bet I am waiting on the torso,” but I somewhat demurely nodded, No, yet kept looking at him, my eyes trying to convey, Yes, a thousand unspoken ways. 
    I overheard him talking to his trainee about Halloween and I took it as my cue to say, ‘Kudos on that devil costume.’ 
    Fisk nodded, grinned. ‘I saw the gallery photo,’ I added, and Fisk grinned again and thanked me and explained to his trainee what the costume was. 
    ‘I played Satan at the gym’s open house party,’ he explained to his trainee. ‘But I’m not a very good actor, so I’m not sure it was convincing.’ 
    I assured him it was convincing and he answered with a shy modesty that was a stark contrast to his strapping size, ‘Thank you for saying that.’ 
    My cock was so hard by now that as I got up from the bench press, I held the towel in front of me to hide it. 
    As I passed Fisk, I smelled his minty scent again and felt the pressure of his hand on my shoulder, ‘Thanks again,’ he said, patting my back. Blushing, I turned back and saluted him. His acknowledgement of my salute – a friendly raising of his long arm – set me reeling.

    When I was done with my workout, I ran into Fisk in front of the sauna door in the men’s locker room. His thick fingers toyed with the thermostat as he explained to someone how to better regulate the temperature. I stood nearby on the scale, pretending to weigh myself, listening attentively as he instructed the member about using the thermostat. 
    ‘You know, I almost baked myself in there once,’ I said, half-turning and interrupting Fisk. 
    He recognised me from upstairs. ‘These controls are a little confusing,’ Fisk said in agreement. 
    ‘They are intimidating,’ I answered, ‘for the novice like moi.’
    ‘You get the hang quickly enough,’ Fisk said, and I surely must have blushed. The trainee he’d been talking to thanked him for showing him around and then disappeared behind the lockers, leaving Fisk and I alone. 
    Fisk asked me if I’d done anything for Halloween. 
    ‘I wasted the weekend,’ I said, ‘obsessing about an annual review I have today at my job.’
    He asked me my name, where I worked. I got off the scale and tightened my towel around my waist and explained the brokerage house, how I’d missed benchmarks three quarters in a row, how my ass was on the line in a few hours. 
    He was sympathetic, like a young football coach listening to a star student explain his sinking GPA. He told me had a brother in the same business so he’d heard about pressure to “outdo yourself each quarter.” 
    I thanked him for commiserating and assured him, tenderly, that he was no Satan. He wished me good luck, and then, just as I was about to end our awkward silence by walking away, he called out my name. ‘If you’re nervous, take a spritz in the sauna, it actually affects the nerves.’ 
    I almost laughed on hearing him repeat spritz with that Midwestern accent.
    He opened the sauna door and waved me in. No one was inside. I stepped in while he held the door open, one foot in and one foot out, holding it like it was an elevator he was saving for some unseen passenger. I ducked under his arm and in and studied his big sneakered foot on the wood board floor. 
    Then he reached around the half open door and grabbed a stack of fluffy white towels from the passing work cart. I heard him ask the cleaning crew for something and then he came inside, closed the door and showed me the sign that said Sauna Closed for Repair, the plastic sheeting type of sign with those suctions you see on those Baby on Board postings in rear windows. ‘Privacy also soothes the nerves,’ he added.
    He locked the sauna door and told me to sit down on the wood bench. ‘Seriously, Thom, this steam actually has a soothing effect on the tissues and your nerves,’ he said, sticking the sign to the sauna door window. 
    A caring devil, I thought, as I submitted and sat. Such a tender Satan. 
    The sign covered the door’s window completely and the privacy was immediately relaxing. 
    ‘Sweat in here for a bit, you’ll have nerves of steel for your review. What time is the review?’ 
    ’10.30,’ I said. 
    He helped me out of my shorts and folded the towel into a pillow-like