14: Aiden (Cleveland)

I’ve been in Cleveland for a week.

I’d never thought of Cleveland much, but this trip has been more fun than expected. Not to sound sour, but I didn’t have many expectations for the city… not for any lackluster expectations, but for an overall lack of expectations altogether.

How could I have known that a city I’d never been to would be as much fun as Cleveland has been?

I’d come here with another Sterling Group colleague, Angelique, to help a nonprofit get off the ground with an intensive workshop between us and the nonprofit’s C-suite. Alas, after a week of growth and amplification workshops by day and the nonprofit employees showing us a good time on the town by night, it was time for Angelique and I to head back to New York City.

I packed up my laptop and the little goodies we’d accumulated over the last week from the various little workshops we’d hosted.

I said goodbye to the new colleagues I’d met and forged bonds with at the nonprofit and headed out. It was about 6:30PM and well beyond the office’s 5:00PM closing hours, but we’d been having fun with our goodbye party.

By 7, I was shutting the door to my hotel room behind me, just as I heard Angelique’s door close down the hall. What was I to do with my final evening in Cleveland?

I wasn’t feeling too social after the week of entertaining with the nonprofit – as fun as this week had been – so I decided to keep my evening close to myself. I changed into my gym shorts and a white stringer tee and hit the hotel gym for an evening workout.

Yesterday was legs, so today I focused on my back and biceps. With every heavy pull, I felt the squeeze in my traps and lats, confident I was growing them out to maintain the V shape of my muscular torso. I kept my head down as I pumped my biceps, too – not wanting to make it awkward with the two other people in the small gym.

Approaching 9:00, I wasn’t content to head back to my room quite yet. I wanted to get some cardio in after weightlifting, so being near the Emerald Neckline Trails, off I went into the night. The more time wore on, the more steps my jogging legs logged, the sweatier and more tired I became. After I’d completed the five-mile jog I’d set out to do, I slowed to a stop.

It would be five miles back to where I’d entered the trails and to my hotel. That’s fine, a total 10-mile jog would feel good. But for now, I’d like a rest. I slipped the stringer tee off my body and tucked a portion of it into my shorts to keep it in possession without having to hold onto it.

Spotting a small bench nearby, I plopped my sweaty ass down onto it. I stuck my hips forward on the bench, reclined my back onto the seatback of the bench, and draped my elbows over the back – mostly to air out my armpits and sweaty body.

I let my head hang back a little and I breathed. I felt my chest and belly heave as I regulated my breath and heartbeat.

It was about then when I heard another set of footsteps. No big deal, I thought, they’ll walk past me and it’ll be fine. But, being as late as it was, I did keep an eye on the direction of the steps, prepared to defend myself if needed…

The footsteps grew closer and from the darkness appeared a younger dude. He was in his twenties, but younger than me. He might have been about 25. A smaller dude, but in good shape and good looking, if not a little nerdy. His belly was impossibly defined, which got my attention, of course. He appeared harmless, so I threw him a “what’s up” gesture with my head, hoping to communicate that I’m not a threat to him, either.

But his gait slowed as he approached me on the trail. I could see his eyes sizing up my muscles – my heaving, beefy pecs and thick abs, and my bulge, too.

“Hey,” he quietly said as he passed by me. But before I could reply, “mind if I rest a sec?”

“Not at all,” I said. I moved over to one side, but kept my open resting pose on the bench. I was beginning to wonder what his deal was… did he actually need a rest or…?

“How often you lift?” he asked. I was sure he was cruising.

“Five days a week,” I replied. “With cardio three or four times a week.”

“Nice; it’s paying off, bro,” he replied. “Bro” felt a little forced here. He is definitely cruising me, I thought.

“Thanks, man,” I said. “Pretty solid build on you too.”

He took a moment without speaking to run his hands down his pecs and abs, gathering sweat on his hands before flicking it off onto the ground.

“You from around here?” he finally asked.

“No sir, I leave tomorrow.”

“Have any fun while you were in town?” this time, he made eye contact with me.

“No,” I said. “But would welcome some.”

He slowly revealed a gentle smile, then stood and gestured toward the woods behind the bench, which could not be seen into from the trail due to the deep nightfall.

“Let’s have some fun?”

I smiled back, stood, and followed him into the trees. We walked for about five whole minutes, getting farther and farther into the woods and away from the trails. Like many of my meetups with strange men, this could have gotten me killed… but I was taken by this little guy’s cruising and let my good sense fall to the wayside once again.

Sufficiently far from the trails, he stopped and turned and came toward me. I took him in and we kissed. Clearly, we both needed it as we moaned in unison as our lips met. His arms immediately embraced me, but quickly he let loose one hand to let his palm roam my abs and pecs, feeling the ripples of my abdominal muscles and the beefy handfuls of my slabs of pec meat.

He quickly backed me up against a tree, the bark of which connected rigidly with my back. He was growing more forceful with his kissing, and with the manner in which he groped and squeezed my pecs. He began running his thumbs up and down my abs, testing how hard they are as he ran his thumbs to my shorts and back up to my pecs, where he’d fondle my chest before running his thumbs down my abs again.

“No one’s out here, man,” he began. “You into any kinks or fetishes? Anything that would make you fuckin shoot?”

I moaned at the thought, replying, “I’m a fuckin’ pig. I love brutal. Let me hurt you. Or you hurt me.”

He answered with more moaning as he kissed more passionately, making out with me as he tweaked my nipples, then pulled back from making out to deliver a slap across my face. The adrenaline rushed through me and I cupped his head to bring him back in to continue making out.

He pulled back once again to slap me across the other side of my face before, without my prompting him, he drove a punch into my gut. Guys don’t usually rush into gutpunching without prompting them to do so, so the punch landed like a surprise, sinking deeper into my intestines than he meant and briefly punching the breath out of me.

“Fuck, man,” he began to apologize. “I got excited, I thought you were expecting that.”

For just a moment, he looked scared; as though he’d ruined a good cruising experience. I cupped his head again and brought him in to kiss him. “You don’t understand,” I said between his kisses, which felt like they were coming from a place of relief, “I fuckin’ love that.”

“Yeah?” his whole demeanor had flipped on a dime. “You’re good with a few punches?”

I pulled back from more making out, “Yeah, bro. Let it out. I want you to punch me in the gut.”

“Oh fuuuuck,” he said.

“And it better fuckin’ hurt me.”

His hand reached my cock, which was already almost fully hard. “Oh, you fuckin’ got it, king.”

I removed my shorts and slung them over a branch, and he did the same. He charged back to me, pushing me forcefully against the tree with a percussive thump as he hit my chest. Both now entirely nude, I could see his cock was also hard – he’d been waiting for a guy to let him go wild.

He made out while his right hand pressed on my gut, which I kept relaxed for him. His hand pressed and pressed, exploring how my relaxed abs felt to him.

“No limits,” I said. “Only my gut, but no limits.”

“Oh, fuck,” he said.

“I want it to hurt for days, man.”

“Jesus.”

“I’m gonna keep these abs soft for you.”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ better, pain pig.”

Mmmh, I moaned, “Yeah? You want in there?”

“Oh, fuck yeah.”

“Punch hard, punch deep, bro.”

“I’m gonna fuck up your guts.”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” I moaned into our kissing, as he continued to play with my belly. I was not only turned on by the proposition of getting my guts worked, but also by how much smaller than me he was.

His powerful little arms got to work.

Through making out against the tree, he shot an uppercut straight into the center of my gut, impacting my yearning intestines deep. Immediately my breath and natural grunt was punched into his mouth.

“Oh, fuck yeah, you fuckin’ pig,” he said.

He drove another uppercut into my guts, crushing my intestines and driving the breath out of me again.

“Deeper,” I commanded. “Make sure it hurts.”

I placed his fist on my navel. “This is your target. My guts are totally unprotected for you, bro. My stomach is just a punching bag.”

His face was flush with passion already. Looking at my unflexed six pack hang over my hard cock, he pinned me back with a hand on my chest and began driving fist after fist directly into my navel. His core engaged as he proudly put his whole body into slamming his fist into my lax belly.

The impacts ripped through my unflexed abs, his fist directly punching into my intestines and driving them deep into my belly. The pain was intense and I couldn’t catch my breath, but my cock remained hard as every thud of his punches flattened my vulnerable innards into me.

I resisted doubling over as best I could, just allowing him to punch my soft, useless intestines in while I relished in the pain.

“Your guts can really fuckin’ take it,” he said, taking short break. “I want to try it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I want to feel you punching me in the guts like this.”

I flipped us, placing his back against the tree. “Relax,” I told him. “I’ll start soft.”

“Don’t,” he said, surprising me. “I love pain. I want it to hurt, too.”

I felt his belly relax under my hand, all rigidity of his abs immediately lost.

I launched a shot into his navel, and being a much bigger guy than him, my fist took up a lot of real estate on his stomach. My fist forced his navel and lower guts in, earning a great OOF out of him, folding him over my fist and almost dropping him to his knees.

“Oh, fuck, oh fuck yeah, man,” he said as he actively caught his breath.

I took my cue. I focused there, slamming punches into his navel or lower guts (or both). For a gutpunch novice, his body absorbed my fist really well – his guts were good and soft, squishing under my fist and earning hot moans from him as I pounded his innard deep. Since he was new after all, I stayed away from his diaphragm (I figured he’d ask for it if he wanted it).

Naturally, with his abs relaxed, the bulk of his guts settled in his navel and lower gut anyway, so we were both certainly getting our fill of punching his unprotected intestines.

“Harder?” I asked.

“Harder,” he said assuredly.

My muscular arms drove a stronger punch straight into the pit of his gut, just above the navel but not in the diaphragm. His tolerant innards took it, enveloping my fist as I felt how soft he’d kept his stomach. With no resistance, it felt like I’d punched through his gut and hit the tree, though I knew I hadn’t. He released a deep UH! before I pulled my fist back to sink an equally strong punch into his navel, earning another OOH!

As he was a pretty small dude, I felt like I was crushing the entirety of his guts under my fist. I drove another punch into him, impacting his navel as deep as his bowels could take it, and began grinding my fist around, crushing his intestines into his body as though my fist was the pestle to his gut’s mortar.

He moaned the entire time, barely catching his breath, and occasionally sneaking in a Fuck before I pulled my fist back from his spongey belly.

He moved from the tree and led me around so that my back was to the tree once again.

“Give me that musky cock.”

He dropped to his knees and took my fully hard dick in his hands and spit on it as he began to jerk me off.

“Oh… fuck…” I said as his hands got to work, before he wrapped his lips around it.

As he sucked me off, he cupped my balls with his left hand, occasionally giving them a light squeeze as his middle finger reached back and barely played with my ass.

His right hand formed a fist, which he drove upward into my guts. His forceful punches mostly drove into my lower gut and navel. Deeper and deeper, I felt him drive a punch into my intestines, then force his fist deeper into my gut, crushing my innards after punching into them.

He pulled his fist back again, then attempted to drive his hardest punch into me, despite the awkward angle he was at. It connected with my navel, driving my intestines upward into the pit of my guts, radiating pain from my core and causing me to shoot down his eager throat.

As he felt my cum emptying into him, he drove another, and another punch into my loose guts, losing his fist in the depth of my relaxed abdominal muscles each time as I hit a new wave of pleasure.

His right fist pulled back from my stomach and he began using it to jack himself off as he sucked the last bit of cum from my increasingly sensitive cock.

Just as I couldn't take more sucking, he released my dick from his mouth to moan as he shot his own load onto the grass between my feet.

He rested, remaining on his knees for a moment before I brought him to his feet. I kissed him, smelling my own musk on his face as I did.

I reached down and gently massaged his battered guts. He allowed me, keeping his abs relaxed as I did it while he breathed through his mouth to catch his breath.

“Let’s do this again,” he whispered.

“I leave town tomorrow.”

He hung his head and placed a hand on my muscular chest.

“I forgot. Please tell me when you come back to Cleveland. I’m Aiden. Let me give you my number, man.”