May The Best Man Wank

With a temperature of 6 Degrees Celsius, mist and drizzle the other day, FuelMix didn't feel like hitting his usual gym and opted instead to drop in at the nearby Clubhouse gym.

One of the Function Rooms near the gym was holding a wedding reception.  There was a crowd of peeps there, all dressed up and the place was packed.  The overflow had spilled into the corridors with some interesting looking dudes prancing with the bridesmaids, guests and assorted pussies.

The Gym is surrounded by plate glass walls, so anyone can look in. That "anyone" turned out to be an Asian dude in a dark dress suit, elegant tie, a pocket square and a carnation in his lapel. He was gazing at FuelMix long and hard.  The dude was identically dressed to 2 other guys so the 3 of them were obviously the Groom's official wedding posse.

FuelMix smirked. He'd noticed this guy chatting to the other guests in a very loud nasal twang. He was obviously a Banana - now apparently looking for banana.  This lone Asian in a dress suit and carnation had zoned out of the tedious socializing that always goes with nuptials and was fixated on FuelMix, shyly smiling and licking his lips. FuelMix's slightly sweaty body hugging T was doing its magic and FuelMix's investment in gym time was being noticed - by an important guest at a wedding, no less.

FuelMix turned to look at the dude, his gaydar on full scan.  The dude smiled and winked, gently tossing his head in the direction of the toilets at the end of the corridor. "Pretty ballsy", thought FuelMix, "testosterone wins out over estrogen anyday.  All those perfumed pussies, he probably couldn't handle the smell of fish".

The dude walked calmly towards the toilet, adjusting his carnation, glancing sideways into the gym as he did so.  The invitation was unmistakeable.  Counting slowly to 20,  FuelMix quietly entered the empty toilet to find the dude in a cubicle, pants down, cock hard, licking his lips, stroking himself while motioning to FuelMix to enter the opposite cubicle so the dude could ogle him.

FuelMix duly obliged, removed his muscle shirt and dropped his shorts.  The dude's jaw dropped and he fell to his knees, stroking furiously.  Ever the immortal exhibitionist, FuelMix delivered some carnal eye candy from various angles, including a lap dance on the squeaky clean, totally disinfected toilet seat, buck naked except for his socks and gym shoes.  The dude grinned in a crazed fashion, closed his eyes, moaned and shot his load - at the precise moment a pussy's voice outside the toilet door - with the same irritating nasal twang - enquired, "Rodney...!!.... Honey are you in there.....? We're gonna take the pictures with the bridesmaids....!".

The dude was still in a post-orgasmic torpor, a gob of cum tricking down his black dress pants, his lapel carnation a tad wilted.  FuelMix winked, shrugged on his gym get-up, walked to the main door of the toilet and opened it.  There stood a bridesmaid in some godawful cream coloured number.

"Rodney! Are you coming.....?" she enquired earnestly.

"Redundant question", thought FuelMix, padding back into the gym.


Originally published 17 February 2010
Amended and Republished 22 February 2014