Before rubber became the default, men like Caleb had to hide.
Oversized hoodies. Loose track pants. Layers meant to disguise the truth underneath. Every step toward the gym felt tense because he already knew the moment he crossed those doors, the craving would start burning again. The need for tight black shine against his skin. The need to feel the pressure wrapping every muscle until his entire body looked sculpted from living latex.
And the other men understood immediately.
That was the secret of those early rubberized gyms. Nobody had to explain the hunger there. Nobody stared when the hoodies hit the floor. Nobody judged the glossy catsuits clinging impossibly tight across broad shoulders, thick thighs, hard chests, and growing bodies addicted to the shine. The room itself felt alive with reflections and heat.
You can see it in Caleb's expression the second the rubber seals around him.
Like he can finally breathe again.
The black latex stretches across his chest so perfectly it almost looks poured onto him while the light slides over every contour of muscle. The material hugs his waist, compresses his legs, sharpens every movement into something hypnotic. Even standing still, he looks charged with energy. Addictive masculine energy.
And then the others gather around him.
Fellow studs wrapped in the same glossy skin. Smiling because they recognize that exact feeling. That transformation from nervous restraint into complete confidence the second the rubber takes over. Suddenly Caleb is no longer hiding. No longer uncomfortable. No longer trying to pretend he wants anything else.
The workout almost becomes secondary after that. The weights. The sweat. The heavy breathing filling the room while black latex reflects under the gym lights like polished obsidian. They train together, flex together, push each other harder and harder while the material creaks and stretches over powerful bodies built to be admired.
Nobody wants to peel the rubber off.
Because once Caleb finally felt what it was like to stand among men exactly like him, wrapped head to toe in pure glossy perfection, there was no going back to hiding beneath cotton ever again.
Would you have taken the hoodie off the moment you walked into that gym?
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