To make a long story short (one that took place over the space of nearly two months), one day I got a charley horse in a calf in the middle of my cardio, and I went limping back to my locker. Woody noticed and followed me.
"Muscle seize up?" he asked as I sat by my locker. I just nodded, so he squatted before me and took my leg and began kneading my calf. "Oh, yeah. This is a mean one.”
I almost screamed from the pain of it. He chuckled. That should have told me something.
"Let’s hit the massage room and I’ll work it out," he said.
I just shook my head. "I think I’ll try the Jacuzzi, first."
He stood and took my arm. "C’mon, Alec, I got an ointment that’ll cut the pain. It’ll work lots faster.”
I let him drag me into a tiny room with nothing but a tall padded bench and table topped with bottles of lineaments, and no windows, just a door. I lay on the bench, still in pain, and he closed the door and set the lights to dim.
"Face down," he said. "Gives me access to the muscle."
I rolled over. Gladly. Just having him rub my leg in the locker room had given me a hint of a woody (pun intended), despite the pain. He had good hands, too. Strong. Well shaped. Light wisps of dark hair dancing over his skin. I knew the second my leg stopped hurting, my dick would be raging from his touch. I was so happy I wore briefs.
He slopped some cold lineament on my calf and started kneading it, again…and he was right – the ointment combined with his fingers rolling into my skin and his palms rubbing around my muscle made the hurt vanish. The one and only time he ever did that for me – killed the pain, I mean.
"Wow," was all I could say.
"Yeah. Helps to know what you’re doing. I’m surprised you haven’t had one of these before now.”
"I have. I just walked them off.”
"You could keep ‘em from happening if you stretched more and had a massage every now and then."
"I’m too broke, right now," I muttered, finally getting into the rhythm of his massage. "I can barely afford the gym."
"Been there. Done that. Lemme check something.” Then his hands shifted to the back of my thighs, one on each of them. His fingers played harsh on my skin, digging deep in a way that was guaranteed to make my dick hard as a rock. "Yeah, you’re getting tight here, too."
"I…I’ll get back to stretching," I muttered, not sure exactly what the hell was happening…other than the fact that every motion of his fingers was sending explosions through every nerve in my body and every damned one of those nerves was suddenly hard-wired straight to my crotch. He had me so on edge, even the slightest movement of my long loose shorts across the hair on my legs was setting off little jolts.
Then his hands shifted to my butt, the kneading motion rubbing the fabric of my shorts against the fabric of my briefs, which rubbed against my scrotum…which was now on fire.
"Hmph," he said, "firmer than I thought. Not bad.”
I looked at him, startled. He smiled.
"Looks like I’ll have to make the first move," he said…then leaned down and kissed me. And, dear GOD, what a kiss. It was the whisper of peppermint drifting from moistened lips. It was warmth of the sort you dream of at home, glowing and cool like the energy of existence. It was the passing of life along conduits made of nature’s purest gold. His lips gently melted into mine as his chin and nose caressed mine and heaven seemed to open for a moment.
Chapter 2 — Porno Manifesto