Your erotic stories

Notice: I don't care what you do with this story. Make it into a movie or publish a play with it. I wrote it to be enjoyed and to be shared, so the more people read it - the better. * I was feeling depressed. Although I loved my wife and we were the closest of friends, our marriage had become very stale and passionless.

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It was supposed to be a straight forward assignment. Jimmy occasionally did some camera work to help out the local paper when their regular photographer was busy, or to collect background shots for local stories. The editor had told him this one was quite simple. The local gym was on a membership drive and had arranged for him to do a story on them. Jimmy was to wander along that evening to take some snaps of one of the women's fitness sessions.

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It started with a plate full of food. It was no different than the plate full I had eaten the night before, or the night before that. In fact it was no different than any dinner I had eaten for the last fifteen to twenty years of my life. What made the food in front of me repugnant was... laughter. I could hear it echoing in my ears even as I looked down at the food.

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I was half way through my daily grind at work's gym, when Jen walked in. For the last few months, Jen and I had been gym buddies, an arrangement that worked well for both of us. Jen had always struggled sticking to a regular routine, her various vices always too big a temptation when it came time to make a choice. I, however, generally found that, once I decided to get back in shape, I did it. Regardless of how much it loathed me to slug it out on the human hamster wheels.

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I set the weights down, grabbed my towel, and walked into the locker room. Sitting down, I removed my socks and shoes and pulled off my top. I stood up and pulled off my gym shorts and jockstrap. I put my sweaty clothes in my gym bag, grabbed a clean towel, soap, and shampoo, and walked into the showers.

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It wasn't a regular day of practice; only Hank and I had come in, and we'd worked out in the gym after we'd done laps on the field. I could tell he was steamed about something, but I didn't ask about what. He had finished first, and it looked like I had the locker room to myself when I came in from the gym. I took a quick shower and pulled on my briefs and some baggy shorts and an athletic T, and there he was, right at my locker before I had gotten around to pulling my sneakers on. There was fire in his eyes, and he slammed my locker closed with his fist.

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(Author's note: This fantasy happened some time ago. Long before STDs were a known threat. If the time of these events were more recent, certainly safe sex precautions would have been followed - and recommended.) * After a long, hard, aggravating day at my job, I packed my bag and went to the Gym for a stress reducing workout.

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Nicole hated the treadmill, but it was a necessary evil - she was proud of how her body had changed over the last few months - thighs and butt now toned and firm, stomach flat; it was worth the effort. As she ran, she tried to zone out, letting the music from her iPod fill her brain, displacing the messages from her aching knees and bursting lungs. She would have closed her eyes were it not for the fact that she'd seen someone fall off this thing only the other day, and also that there was something interesting to watch in the mirror as she worked.....

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I met Nick five months ago when he became my personal trainer. I joined the gym in the summer to finally work my body towards my personal goals. I had been skinny all my life and knew that if I wanted to change it I would have to get serious. Five months of 3-5 workouts a week and heavy carb/protein loading I was pushing towards my goal. I was up 20 pounds of muscle and my progress pics were really showing obvious changes. I of course had taken photos every step of the way, but hadn't really shared them with anyone until recently.

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I never intended for any of this to happen the way it did. I hope you can believe that. When I offered him my phone, it was merely to be polite and do a stranger a good turn. When I offered for him to come stay with me, it was as a person with means helping out someone who was going to go without. When I offered him a job, it was as an experienced businessman helping a young man just setting out in the world. 

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