Chapter 35

Amid the weight machines and music I’d never choose to listen to, my body hunted for rhythm, but my mind tripped over unsolvable problems. Sweat stuck to my skin, fatigue weighed down my muscles, and still, I pushed on — as if drowning in the repetition of movements could save me from something bigger. Lost in that trance, I only snapped out of it when a voice sliced through the gym’s silence.

“Hey, Mutant, I’m heading out. Lock everything up, alright?”

The order came from the gym owner, already at the door, keys spinning on his fingers before flying to the trainer. They were the only ones there with me. I watched them, and there was no doubt: they were together. In the lingering touches, the smiles in their eyes before their mouths, the way they existed for each other. One, a living sculpture, primed for a gold trophy. The other, a subtle shadow, but beautiful — the kind you notice too late, when it’s already swallowed you whole.

I’d survived my torture session, and now, a shower was in order. Sweat clung to my skin like a reminder of the effort, the exhaustion, the things I tried to forget between reps and songs that would never play in my house. I grabbed my bag, ready to shed the fatigue and start it all over again.

“Night, boys.”

I smiled, hiding the weight nesting in my chest.

Under the hot water, I lingered longer than I should have. Steam rose in slow spirals, drawing silences on the cold tile. I dried off without rushing, perfume, lotion, clothes, bag over my shoulder. I was ready to go. I crossed the door, light steps, but then I stopped. Unintentionally. Unnoticed.

In front of me, a secret.

The two of them, the unlikely pair, surrendered to each other. A long kiss, like time moved to a different beat there. Bare chests, muscles taut under the sweat. Hands gripping firm, mouths seeking more. Desire hung thick in the air, hot, tangible.

And the mirrors… ah, the mirrors.

They multiplied them in infinite angles, as if the beauty couldn’t fit in just two bodies. The reflections replicated them, spread them across the room, made them countless — mouths devouring in duplicates, hands tracing overlapping paths, a ballet of flesh and glass. With every new image, a fresh angle on the desire, a new way to see them and, without meaning to, to see myself there, captive in the reflection, voyeur to a scene that wasn’t mine, but consumed me in silence.

It took over my whole body. Heat rose in waves, igniting every pore, sparking a new sweat, different from exhaustion — this one born of desire.

The big guy, rough and brute, took the younger one from behind, holding him firm, possessive. The other, yielded and given over, arched against him, sweaty skin sticking to tense muscle, kisses crooked and urgent, like they were trying to devour time itself. It was a fight, a dance without choreography, where mouths chased the taste of the other, bodies vied for possession and pleasure, where desire was a fierce, hungry animal.

The mirrors multiplied every detail — the grip of fingers in flesh, the ragged gasp, the half-closed eyes of pure surrender. And I, trapped between shadows and reflections, hid deeper to stay unseen. But desire had already found me. My firm breasts, skin prickling, belly pulsing. I wanted to be touched too.

Two cocks standing rigid, slick with desire, revealed under the gym’s white lights. One bigger than the other, both throbbing, ravenous. Their faces gave away what they no longer needed to say — two men filthy with lust, starving for each other. They laughed between clipped words, a brief clash of wills, until finally, they reached a silent agreement, a pact sealed by a look and a cynical grin.

The slimmer one dropped to his knees without hesitation, without gentleness. I saw his hands wrap around the thick shaft, skin stretched tight and hot, the flushed head vanishing at once into his hungry mouth. He moved with everything — lips, tongue, throat. Swallowing it whole, disappearing and reemerging, in a rhythm that was as much skill as surrender.

I watched, mesmerized, stunned.

The muscled one grabbed him firm by the nape, fingers digging in, and took control. His hips thrust against the mouth that already took him without resistance. With every plunge, a wet, hoarse sound, a choke, a muffled moan. But there was no refusal, no protest. Just absolute surrender from someone embracing their desire like it was the most natural thing.

My hand, before busy holding the bag on my shoulder, gave in to the weight of the moment. It slid slowly down my own body, found my breast, sought the taut nipple between my fingers. My belly pulsed, my legs shook, my desire was an restless, hungry beast. I wanted to leap out, wanted to be taken, wanted to be devoured by those two beautiful specimens.

But it was already too late.

The bigger one, now fully naked, shed his pants with the ease of someone who knew what was coming. He walked to the bench press and, like positioning for a workout, bent over the padding, sweaty skin gleaming under the lights and reflections. The pose was feminine, but the surrender was solid, deliberate, without shame, without modesty. The other came from behind, touched his waist, guided by desire. The bigger body tensed at the first contact. The initial tries failed. Small adjustments, muscles tight, breath ragged. There was a moment of hesitation, smiles and curses, a loaded second of silence. And then, finally, he opened up, took him inside.

I held my breath in my lungs. My own body responded to the scene like it felt on my skin what I saw.

The rhythm picked up speed. The smaller one, now in charge, rode hard, like taming a bull, the slap of thrusts echoing loud, drowning out the gym music. The sound was pure chaos — moans turned to roars, whispers became screams.

“Fuck me hard… I’m gonna cum, fuck!”

The peak hit like an explosion. They both shuddered at the same time, muscles rigid, every fiber seized by ecstasy. Two machines, two animals, lost to a fever impossible to contain. They trembled. They seemed to cry from pleasure. Their breathing was heavy, dragging, a remnant of the fury that had consumed them.

And then, silence.

That’s when fear gripped me. A sudden rush, terror of being caught. My hands hurried to adjust the bag on my shoulder, my eyes darted to the floor. I crossed the room with quick steps, barely breathing.

“See you tomorrow, boys.”

And I left.