Locker Room Comparison

The gym had gone quiet hours ago, the last of the evening crowd long gone, and the locker room sat under a bank of harsh fluorescent lights that hummed like tired insects. Silas checked the clock above the door and saw it was nearly eleven. He was forty-two, an accountant who spent his days hunched over spreadsheets and his nights trying to burn off the stiffness that came with a desk. His wife would already be asleep by the time he got home. He peeled his sweat-soaked shirt over his head and dropped it into his open locker, then kicked off his shoes.

Cody was the only other man left. Thirty-nine, broad through the shoulders from years as a construction supervisor, he sat on the wooden bench unlacing his boots with the unhurried ease of someone who had nowhere urgent to be. They nodded at each other the way regulars did after the same late class. Neither of them spoke. The silence felt ordinary until they both stripped for the showers.

Silas tried not to look. He failed at once.

Cody’s cock hung thick and heavy between his thighs, the shaft dense even soft, the head broad and flushed dark against the paler skin of his groin. Silas felt heat crawl up his neck as he walked past into the communal showers, tiles cool under his bare feet, and turned on a nozzle two stalls down. Steam rose fast. He soaped his chest and kept his eyes forward, but every sideways glance found Cody under the spray, water sluicing over muscle, that heavy cock swaying as he shifted his weight to rinse his back. Silas’s own dick twitched against his thigh. He looked again, longer this time, tracking the length of it, the cut head fully exposed and fat, the way the shaft thickened toward the base where dark hair clung wet to his skin. His mouth went dry despite the steam.

Cody turned. Their eyes met through the haze. A knowing smirk pulled at the corner of Cody’s mouth, slow and unmistakable. He didn’t cover himself. He just stood there under the water, letting Silas look, one hand braced on the tile, and the air between the stalls thickened with something neither of them had put into words. Silas swallowed hard. His cock was no longer soft. Cody’s smirk deepened as his own shaft began to fill, lifting off his thigh in a slow, deliberate rise that Silas couldn’t pretend he hadn’t seen.

They shut the water off without speaking. Towels came off the hooks, rough cotton dragged over wet skin, and they walked back to the lockers with the steam still clinging to them. The room felt smaller now. Cody stopped in front of his locker and didn’t bother wrapping the towel. He let it hang from one hand and looked down at himself, then at Silas, openly measuring.

“You’ve been staring at it since we walked in,” Cody said. His voice was low, rough from the workout, not accusing. “Go on. Compare.”

Silas’s towel was knotted at his hip. He hesitated one second, then let it drop. His cock stood half-hard already, longer than Cody’s but not as thick, the head flushed and glistening. Cody stepped closer until their shoulders nearly touched. Heat rolled off his skin. Soap and clean sweat and something muskier underneath filled Silas’s nose.

“Yours is longer,” Cody said, eyes fixed between Silas’s legs. “Mine’s thicker. Heavier, too. Look at that.” He reached down and lifted his own cock in his palm, showing the weight of it, the way the thick shaft filled his hand even before it was fully hard. It thickened as he held it, the head swelling, a bead of clear fluid gathering at the slit. Silas watched it happen and felt his own cock jump, rising until it stood straight out, flushed and aching.

They stood close enough that their breathing mixed. Cody’s chest rose and fell. Silas could see the pulse in his throat. The curiosity that had started in the shower had turned into something hungrier, and neither of them stepped back.

Silas reached out first. His fingers closed around Cody’s shaft, and the heat of it shocked him, thick enough that his grip didn’t meet, the skin velvet-smooth over iron. Cody made a low sound in his throat. Then Cody’s hand wrapped around Silas in return, callused palm sliding from base to tip in one slow stroke that made Silas’s knees soften.

“Fuck,” Silas breathed.

“Yeah.” Cody stroked him again, thumb dragging over the head, spreading the wetness there. “Been thinking about this since I caught you looking.”

They stood between the lockers and worked each other with slow, eager hands. Silas pumped Cody’s thick cock, learning the weight, the way it pulsed in his fist, the heavy balls shifting when he reached lower to cup them. Cody matched him stroke for stroke, grip firm, twisting a little at the crown the way Silas liked without being told. Their hips rocked into the motion. Breath came faster. The wet sounds of skin on skin filled the empty room.

“I want to taste it,” Silas said, the words out before he could swallow them. His face burned, but his hand didn’t stop. “Been wanting to since the shower.”

Cody’s grip tightened. “Me too. Been wanting your cock in my mouth since you got hard looking at mine.” He stroked faster, then slowed, savoring it. “Say it again.”

“I want to suck you,” Silas said. “I want to swallow it.”

Cody groaned and stepped back just enough to look at the wooden bench between the lockers. “Then get on your knees.”

They dropped facing each other on the cool tile in front of the bench, close enough that their cocks nearly touched. Silas didn’t wait. He leaned in and took Cody’s thick cock into his mouth, lips stretching around the broad head, tongue flat against the underside as he slid down. The taste hit him at once, clean skin and salt and the bitter edge of precum. He moaned around it and took him deeper, one hand stroking the base where his mouth couldn’t reach, the other braced on Cody’s thick thigh.

Cody’s hand landed in his hair, not forcing, just holding. “Christ. Your mouth.” His hips rocked, careful, feeding Silas more of that heavy shaft. Silas hollowed his cheeks and sucked, wet and greedy, saliva spilling down the length and over his fingers. He pulled off to lick the head, tongue circling the slit, then sank down again until his nose brushed coarse hair and his throat fluttered around the fat tip. Cody swore under his breath and watched him, chest heaving.

“My turn,” Cody said, voice wrecked. He eased Silas back and bent down, and then his mouth was on Silas’s cock, hot and wet and hungry. Cody didn’t tease. He took him deep on the first stroke, lips sealed tight, tongue working the underside as he bobbed. Spit ran down Silas’s shaft and dripped onto his balls. Cody’s hand stroked what his mouth left free, then he pushed lower, throating him with wet, sloppy enthusiasm that made obscene sounds echo off the lockers. Silas gripped the edge of the bench and groaned, watching that construction-rough face buried in his lap, cheeks hollowed, eyes half-closed with the effort of taking him.

They couldn’t stay like that. The need was too sharp. Cody pulled off with a filthy pop and jerked his chin at the bench. “Up. I want your cock while you suck mine.”

They climbed onto the wooden bench and shifted into a sixty-nine, Silas on his back with his head hanging slightly off the edge, Cody straddling his face and bending over his cock. Cody’s thick shaft hung heavy above Silas’s mouth. Silas opened for it and pulled him down, swallowing him to the root while Cody’s mouth crashed onto his own cock at the same time. The shock of it ripped a muffled groan out of both of them.

They sucked each other frantically. Silas gripped Cody’s ass and urged him deeper, gagging a little and loving the stretch, tongue lashing the thick vein as that heavy cock fucked his throat in short, hungry thrusts. Below him, Cody slurped and swallowed, taking Silas deep, pulling off to lick the head and the slit, then diving back down with spit running everywhere. The bench creaked. Wet sounds filled the locker room, sloppy and relentless, muffled groans vibrating through cock and into each other’s mouths. Silas tasted more precum, salty and thick, and sucked harder, hollowing his cheeks, determined to pull the load out of him. Cody’s balls drew up tight against Silas’s nose. His thrusts grew ragged.

“Gonna come,” Cody gasped around Silas’s shaft, the words broken and wet. “Swallow it. All of it.”

Silas moaned his answer and didn’t let go. Cody’s cock swelled, pulsed, and then he was coming, hot spurts flooding Silas’s throat in thick ropes. Silas swallowed every drop, throat working, milking him with his mouth and his hand on the base, not spilling a drop onto the bench. The taste was bitter and heavy and perfect. Cody shuddered above him, still sucking, and the feeling of that mouth sealed around him while he drank Cody’s load shoved Silas over the edge.

He came hard, hips jerking, pumping his load straight into Cody’s throat. Cody took it, groaning around him, swallowing in greedy pulls, licking and sucking until Silas was spent and twitching, every drop gone. They stayed locked together a moment longer, mouths still full, breathing hard through their noses, the last weak pulses licked clean.

When they finally pulled apart, both men were flushed and shining with spit, cocks wet and softening against their thighs. They sat up slowly on the bench. No one else had come in. The fluorescent lights still hummed. They reached for their clothes without rushing, boxers, pants, shirts tugged on over skin that still smelled like sex and soap.

Cody zipped his bag and glanced over, a satisfied grin cutting across his face. “Needed that.”

“Yeah,” Silas said, buttoning his shirt, the same grin answering. “Exactly what I needed.”

They didn’t linger. Cody headed for the side door. Silas took the front. Outside, the parking lot was nearly empty, and each of them drove home to his wife with the taste of the other man’s come still thick on his tongue, cock sore and well-used, already half-hard again at the filthy memory of swallowing every hot drop.