Writing tonight

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This is the start.

New Friend

I had just come out of a nasty divorce. I started to hit the gym three nights a week to try and get back into the shape I was before I was married. I was a self-employed contractor specializing in outdoor kitchens and patios. The money was nice, and I had my own schedule.

My Ex thought the gym was a place to meet and hook up with people. Even when I would run, she said the other women looked at me as a piece of fresh meat. I had started to stay home and avoid the constant complaining. Even setting up a nice home gym in the basement was something she hated, and soon, the equipment started to collect dust and became places for her to hang her extra clothing that no longer fit her as she, like myself, had gained weight.

I was able to keep the house in the divorce, but she drained our savings and all the monies we had stashed away. I found out she had found a girlfriend who was a lesbian. I never had anything against her friend, as I had my suspicions about her sexuality.

Once the divorce was final, I continued working to put some money away. I started working out again in the home gym. I watched videos on techniques to improve my form. There were free weights, a treadmill, and a weight bench. I had put supports into the rafters so I had access to pulleys for pulling weights from angles down as well as side to side. I installed a nice home theater sound system for music when I worked out and a seventy-inch television on the wall for watching videos. It was hooked up to a computer as a media server. I could store all my movies and downloaded videos.

I found a studio lighting system and several quality cameras to set up, as I had thought of streaming my workouts for followers if I could attract some.

I had been working out and eating a low-carb, low-sugar diet for five months. The excess weight was gone, and my muscle tone had come back. I was not where I wanted to be at this point. I wanted to add a steam sauna and a four-person hot tub on the back porch soon to relax. I had also cut back on the beer I was drinking and was using marijuana edibles for relaxing in the evenings.

One night, on the way home from a job, I saw a new gym that had opened and, on a whim, stopped in for a look. They had all the equipment I had, but I only had a little more: stair machines, recumbent bikes, and equipment that targeted specific muscle groups.

The people at the front desk were friendly and explained the rules of the gym. One was that the changing rooms had no restriction on who wanted to use them. The changing rooms were gender-free; if a member were rude to anyone, the member would be denied access to the gym.

I asked the people if this was an entire LGBTQ gym and the ramifications for the possible future, as I was not aware of the community at large in the area. They told me I did not need to be in the community to join but to understand and just be polite to everyone. The cost to join was two hundred dollars a month. This was a steep price, but keeping the people out who would not abide worked to protect the other members.

I was also told no recording was ever to happen. You could watch videos and play music, but if you were suspected of recording, you would have to unlock your device at the moment you asked. As disclosed in the membership agreement, if a video from inside the gym were on it, there would be a large fine.

I agreed and signed up, as being in a gym again and around others was a good choice for me. I went home and gathered my workout gear. I was still wearing my dirty clothing and in need of a shower after work, but I figured I would get smelly and then shower there before going home for the night.

People of all ages and sizes were in the gym, and I saw thirty people working out. I concentrated on my upper body and cardio for the day. I was on the treadmill and recumbent bike for an hour. Next was a warmup with the light weights in curls and seated rowing. Then, I moved to the bench press. I did not want to overdo myself and put a total of two hundred pounds on the bar, bringing the total to two-hundred and fifty pounds. Three sets of ten should do me tonight. The first two sets went well, and as I started the third set, a guy came over and asked me if I needed a spot. I nodded my head, and he took the spotter position over my head. I got in the first six reps with my eyes closed, but on the seventh, I looked right up the leg of his shorts. He was commando, and his penis and testicles were on display. I finished the last three reps, and he helped me rack the weights.

“Thanks for the spot. I am Kevin, and you are?” I said as I stood up and offered my right hand in a handshake.

“Chad, and glad to meet you. Not bad form, but if I may, can you spot it for me?” he asked as we shook hands.

Chad laid on his back, and I took the spot position as he lifted. The first set went well, but he was failing halfway through the second set. I racked the weights for him and removed one hundred pounds from the bar. “Now try to finish the set and then the third set. You had too much weight on the bar,”

He finished the two sets and almost fell as he went to stand up. I caught him and helped him sit down on the bench as his eyes glassed over. I waved over one of the workers as I held onto Chad. One of the females rushed over with a bottle of water and a vial of smelling salts.

I waited until Chad came around, and as they took him to the changing room, I followed as I was no longer into working out for the night. A male worker, as well as a female, stripped him and helped him shower. There was nothing remotely sexual in the act, but two people helping the third shower and coming out of the event that happened. I stripped, and as more people of various genders showered, it all seemed normal.

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