I Had to Choose Between Two Monster C*cks at a Cruisy Texan Gym

Should I go with the older pervy daddy or the muscular gym rat?

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Original illustration by Eduardo

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Everything is bigger in Texas—the streets, burritos, men, and their dicks, too. Every beefy cowboy I spoke to on the apps had an 8-inch hog they were wrangling. In a shocking turn of events, this size of these Texans got me ravenously horny.

I needed some cock and was not shutting up about it.

My good Judy Jayden suggested we head to a cruisy gym on the outskirts of Oak Lawn, the gayborhood in Big D (what the locals call Dallas).

“You’ll like this gym,” he assured. “I usually get blown before and after my workout.”

“Perrrrfffect,” I growled.

On the car ride, he warned me the gym was small, which shows how size is relative. It was three stories tall and an avenue long—bigger than any gym in New York.

“Small?” I asked, lifting my chin to see the building’s peak.

“Yeah, Texas small,” he replied.

We entered, and I had to pay twenty dollars for a day pass. It was highway robbery, but I remembered I wasn’t actually paying for the gym, rather, the sauna. And I usually pay around $40 for entry at a gay sauna, so this was a steal.

It was chest and triceps day for Jayden, and I followed along, but my mind was elsewhere. I wasn’t focusing on form during my chest press or fully flexing during my triceps pull-downs. I was looking at the men surrounding me—the big, beefy boys. I was staring at their bulges, prominently displayed in their tight booty shorts.

“Yeah, I think I’m all done if you are rea—”

I interrupted Jayden, “Yeah, I think I’m done. We should really hit the showers.”

“Alright, calm down,” Jayden said, laughing.

In the locker room, I undressed quickly but toweled slowly. I let my soft, thick cock hang low and made sure every thirsty man in a ten-foot radius could see the merchandise. (To be clear, I’m not this cruisy in 99% of gyms. You have to know the reputation of the gym and read the room. I’m only this brazen in gay gyms where every single man in the locker room is trying to bust a nut.)

I headed straight to the showers with a nice pump. Blood was flowing through every part of me, and before I even made it to the showers, I was semi-erect, my dick pitching a tent in the skimpy towel wrapped around my waist.

I saw signs saying the hot water wasn’t working, a slight bummer, but a little cold liquid wasn’t going to stop me from gagging on some Texan cock.

The showers were designed specifically for cruising. God bless! Often, new gyms specifically design locker rooms to discourage sloppy blowjobs. For example, each shower may be separated, but the glass will be semi-translucent, enough to blur genitals, but it would be plain as day if two men were inside together.

This gym had two rows of showers directly across from one another. Each shower had a curtain that completely concealed who was inside. There were twelve showers, five of which were occupied by men. Every single one of them had the shower curtain slightly open as they stroked their hard or semi-hard cock.

Oh, the staff doesn’t give a fuck, I thought to myself. Nobody was coming and checking because otherwise, these guys would attempt some form of discretion.

I entered the shower across from two men. I turned on the cold water, which felt refreshing after a workout. I left my curtain slightly ajar, grabbed some soap, and lathered up my cock, which grew to full mast instantaneously.

Across from me were two men—one a classically attractive man, roughly 6’2, my age, bearded, with an 8-incher. He had a high ass, nice and plump, and was waggling his hard cock like it was bait. In the shower next to him was an older granddaddy in his late 60s with a potbelly. His eyes were big and lecherous, staring me down. (If I met him late at night on the street, and he gave me those eyes, I would have thought I was about to get the shit kicked out of me. But in this context, I knew he was a filthy pervert.)

My cock flexed in my hand as I looked into his eyes. He took his hand off his 9-inch, coke-can cock and motioned me to turn around with his finger.

I turned around and bent over, spreading my hairy cheeks. I looked back at him, seeing his monster Texan cock somehow growing even more erect in his two hands. The sexy man in the shower over opened his curtain a little more, and started to stroke his fattie faster and faster. I would lock eyes with one man and then with the other. Both were ready for me to pop over into their shower to finish them off.

It was an impossible choice.

Going with the “hot” dude may seem like the obvious answer, but that’s not who (or what) I’m seeking when cruising. I don’t go to a park at sunset with the mindset of, “I’m looking to blow the most attractive man here.” I enter the park thinking, “I want someone sketchy and slightly dangerous to treat my throat disrespectfully.” I want that adrenaline rush that comes with fear.

After careful deliberation, I felt the pervy daddy would be more disrespectful, so he was the winner.