Recumbent Ch. 01

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Routine exercise takes an unexpected turn.
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{Note: I am not a writer, but the story below is absolutely true. I can't seem to shake it from my mind, so I though sharing with others would be the best outlet. Depending on events that may unfold over the next week or two, there may be additional chapters.]

*

I am far from perfect, but I try to stay healthy. As part of my regimen, I eat lots of fruits and vegetables, I run and ride a bike and go to the gym. I typically exercise in basic gear, running shorts for running and bicycle shorts for riding. My running shorts have typically been the split leg kind with the built-in panty and a short inseam. I tend to sweat a lot and found the longer legged shorts start to stick to my legs once I start sweating and the feeling is a bit annoying. But I feel like I look like some Bruce Jenner yahoo from the 70's in my short running shorts -- I sometimes even use a terry cloth headband to keep the sweat out of my eyes! So I also purchased a couple pairs of light compression shorts for running. I prefer the compression shorts because of the coverage, but the tradeoff is that I show off my package a bit, which makes me feel like a pervert at times. But they sure are comfortable, not too tight, and I figure I run too fast for anyone passing by to notice.

I prefer to ride outside, but sometimes I'll ride on the exercise bikes at the gym where I work. The gym offers several different types of exercise bikes, but I mostly use the upright stationary due to the features. It offers a screen which allows the user to select from a number of preconfigured courses, each with varying distances and climbs. I can choose to ride in the mountains, on the beach or even in the countryside of ancient Greece. I don't wear the padded cycling shorts to the gym because I also strength train there and walking around in cycling shorts feels really odd with the padding. I can imagine how a woman feels wearing a thick pad on those heavy days. No thanks.

It gets uncomfortable riding an upright with no padding in my gym shorts, so sometimes I also use the recumbent. It also has a screen that allows me to customize some settings, but the variety isn't very good. Most of the time I watch TV when using the recumbent, although the selection of channels at lunchtime is pretty dismal. Most of the aerobic equipment at the gym line the walls facing outward so people can watch TVs which are mounted on the walls. There are some pieces in the middle of the room which also face toward the TVs. Unless you turn around 180 degrees, you really don't see many people in the room, which has about 20 machines.

One day last week I decided to both run and ride during my lunch hour. That particular day I brought a pair of compression shorts and a dryfit running t-shirt. The day was perfect with hardly a cloud in the sky, temperature in the low 70's and low humidity. After 10 minutes of running, I realized I didn't want to go inside to ride. But I committed to go and stuck with the plan. I returned to the gym after running three miles. Because of the conditions outside, I wasn't too sweaty when I returned to the gym.

After a short drink of water, I grabbed a towel and headed to the exercise equipment. One of the two upright bikes was out of order and the second one was in use. So I headed across the room and grabbed a recumbent. I chose the tension, picked my route on the screen and started peddling. It's a good thing I grabbed the towel, because it was warmer and more humid inside than out and I knew I was in for a sweaty workout.

There were maybe six people in the room when I arrived, mostly women, although more could come and go without my knowledge as the door was directly behind me and 40 feet away. And being the lunch hour, more would surely come than leave. I settled on a pace of about 18 mph which is about average for me and started watching TV -- the local news was the most interesting thing on of the three TVs nearest me.

Only three minutes into my ride, I felt something I had not felt before -- a tingling in my groin. I had never worn compression shorts riding a recumbent bike. I looked down to notice that my penis had settled into the small valley that formed between by belly and my left leg. With each downstroke of my left leg on the pedal, my penis slid slightly toward my leg. Then on the upswing, it slid in the opposite direction toward my belly. So as I continued to pedal I found I was being gently massaged by my skin and Lycra shorts. It was a weird sensation and a bit distracting, so I adjusted myself a bit, pulling my penis over to the center of my belly. That seemed to solve the problem, so I resumed watching TV. I must have become interested in the news and didn't notice, but after a few minutes my penis slid back down to that small valley again. Once again I felt that tingling sensation, but I also noticed that I was getting hard.

Fortunately, the closest person was three machines away. I looked around the room and didn't see anyone take notice, so I adjusted myself again. But urges are urges. After shifting myself, I noticed that my half erection didn't go away, but rather grew larger. I'm average size at best, but the thought of popping a boner was unsettling to me given the environment. I took the towel and laid it in my lap. It was only a small hand towel, but it provided the coverage I needed.

Because I was now fully erect, my mind quickly shifted from the news on the TV to the breaking news happening in my shorts. I've had my share of fantasies over the years, and being caught in humiliating acts in public were near the top of my list. But this was work and those were strictly fantasies. Even though I work for a large company and rarely see any coworkers that I know at the gym, now was not the time to let my mind wander into fantasy. If someone saw my state, I would simply die of embarrassment. At the very least I would have to find a new gym. And the gym at work is free, so the last thing I want to do is pay for a gym membership.

I continued on at the same pace trying to think of anything that would take my mind off sex; farm trucks, baseball, then back to the news. The more I tried to think about anything nonsexual, however, the more I seemed to focus on my erect state. At this point I had a full-fledged boner with no signs of abating and once again my now erect penis slid to the left. As much as I tried to ignore it, that tingling feeling was slowly being replaced by pleasure. Here I was in the workplace gym with a half dozen other souls and I was gently masturbating hands-free with a thin layer of Lycra.

Adding to the growing awkwardness of the situation, I found that the hand towel that I had placed so strategically over my crotch would not stay in place. Perhaps a full towel would do the trick, but this small towel quickly began to slide off my body as my legs were constantly in motion peddling the bike. I grabbed the towel and repositioned it. This time I held it in place with one hand. Riding like this was awkward, however, as a more natural position was to hold on to the handles on either side of the seat.

I really wanted to continue with my workout. I guessed that eventually my heartrate would get high enough that my body would signal to my erection to shut down. After all, your body knows automatically to direct its energy where it is most needed. And at this moment in time, it was most needed in my legs, not my dick. "Hey, buddy, we have far more pressing things to do here, so just give up already."

With that, I looked around the room to survey the action. Everyone seemed focused on their own workouts, so I slowly returned the towel to my neck, grabbed both handles and increased my pace. I realized no one would see my erection unless they were standing close by and looking right at it. The Lycra held my erection down to my body rather that pitching a tent, so I felt my state was as least a bit hidden from wondering eyes. And so I sped up to 20 mph.

The pleasurable feeling continued, but I was resolute. I was going to finish this ride and be okay. Or so I hoped.

My inner struggle to think of anything but sex, however, wasn't working. With each turn of the pedal, I found myself thinking more and more about sex. But it wasn't just sex. Instead, my thoughts turned to the countless stories I had read online about forced exhibition, humiliation and submission. I've read more than one story about women caught in compromising situations who were forced to orgasm in public against their will. I could certainly identify with them, except I was acting of my own volition. I was volunteering to masturbate in public. The more I thought about those stories, the more depraved my thoughts became, and the more pleasurable my ride was becoming. What if I really did cum in my pants in this room of people while riding a bike?

Oh gosh, the feeling was beginning to take over me. I hadn't completely lost it, but it felt so good. At that point I just wanted to continue on and see what happened. Surely, I wouldn't let it get too far. The constant rubbing, however, was starting to fog my senses. I looked at the screen and noticed my heart rate was 132. I had never seen my heart rate surpass 125 on an exercise bike, so I knew my situation was causing my heart to pump faster. Nevertheless, I pressed on.

After a few more minutes, I looked down and saw a small wet spot had started to form. I was sweating profusely and my shorts were already wet with sweat after only 15 minutes. But the pre-cum stood out, shimmering in the light. That sight only fueled my feeling of being exposed and added to my arousal.

This can't be happening.

But it was. My mind was becoming so conflicted. As the wet spot grew, so did my feelings of wanting to cum. My sense of control over the situation started to wane as did awareness of my surroundings. There were no more TVs to watch, no people, no sound, no towel. I was completely alone with my thoughts and the pleasure coursing through my body with each turn of the pedal. I was masturbating alone, looking forward to an amazing orgasm.

Reality, however, told a much different story. I was sitting on an exercise bike in a room with people, any of whom could sit on the bike next to me at any time. I couldn't see the door, so there could be 20 people in the room for all I knew. I was dripping precum into my shorts and that precum was showing a noticeable wet spot on my shorts that was becoming increasingly difficult to hide even though the shorts were black and shiny. My heart rate continued to climb....140...144.

The tension continued to rise. The pleasure was taking me to ever higher levels of arousal. I wanted to cum. There was no doubt about that. But I couldn't possibly let it happen. Farther and farther my mind sank into the depths of pleasure. I closed my eyes and shut everything out. Once again, it was just me and the constant cycle of soft stimulation. Euphoria was going to be my reward. Pedal, pedal, pedal. I was incredibly hard and feeling a sense of urgency. I needed to cum and I couldn't stop pedaling until I did no matter the costs. But the costs.

Higher and higher I climbed, wanting this so badly. I felt the edge coming. My body started to tense with that all too familiar feeling of a pending explosion in my loins. Just another minute and I would be spurting in my shorts and feeling a state of euphoria that I may never have experienced before.

Keep pedaling. Keep pedaling. Keep pedaling. Only a little bit longer. The people don't matter. I have my towel. Just orgasm!

But the people do matter. My dignity matters. My feelings of control matter. People at work depend on me for answers. How would they react if they knew that I was just a shameless public masturbator?

I was so close. Precum was dripping out of me like an old faucet. No one was watching. It was just me and a mountain of pleasure. My body was screaming at me. Yes! Yes! Do it! You need to cum, to feel this overwhelming sensation. The pedals kept turning. And turning. The moment of truth was at hand. Oh gosh! Can I stop? Just a little more. Please?!

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4 Comments
AnonymousAnonymous7 months ago

please make a second chapter

AnonymousAnonymousover 1 year ago

Stupid ending.

FalseRealityFalseRealityalmost 7 years agoAuthor
Ending is intentional

Readers, the abrupt ending is intentional. For one, I wanted to give myself the opportunity to write a second chapter. But more importantly, the ending of this particular scene isn't as important as the events leading up to my situation. This is a true story and I wanted to highlight the uncertainty in my mind of what was going to happen. I was as odds with myself. Which side would win, the angel who feared what would happened if I was caught, or the devil who was begging me to continue? This isn't the best written story, but I hope you can appreciate the predicament I let myself get into of a battle of sensibility versus unbridled pleasure.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 7 years ago
Poor place to stop

Unfortuately this seems to stop mid paragraph, no hint of ending, just a dead stop.

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