At the Gym; a Ginger Gym-Rat Hit on Me

The gusher he unleashed was strong in every sense; he shot hard, he shot many times, each shot was thick, and the taste was the strongest I could ever remember.  It was so strong my head had to over-rule my taste buds even though it was going straight down my throat.  I felt his big hard-on pulsing with each blast, his hairy sac and balls tight against my chin as opposed to when they’d swung against my neck, and felt the flow of his cum back-up into my mouth because I couldn’t swallow as much and as fast as he shot.

I felt his rock-hard abs flex against my forehead with each pump; he wasn’t giving me any leeway to pull off and I wasn’t looking for any.  That’s when I got the pungent blast of flavor to go with his strong swear smell; I almost retched but my brain got a message direct from my balls that a face-fucking stud’s cum tasting strong and manly was as HOT as the aroma which had caused me to swoon on the gym floor!

I continued to suck and lick his root and shaft hungrily, and I was rewarded with loudly proclaimed affirmations of his pleasure in unloading.  When he couldn’t take my mouth on his gorged sensitive dick-head any longer he gently tried to push me off.  I had a hold on his hairy ball-sac after I worked them looser again; I wasn’t ceding that turgid member that easily.  “DUDE!” he huffed and then started squirming and laughing and ultimately squealing unstudly-like.  He couldn’t squirm much with his jewels firmly in my fist.  My other fist was furiously pumping my own hard-on.  And finally he stopped squealing, replaced his big hand on the back of my head, and growled out anew in pleasure.  He gave my head a gentle rub for good measure.

“Oh my god!  OH MY GOD!  OHMYGOD!” he called louder than I was comfortable with given I didn’t know how thin the walls of his apartment … or condo … were.  His dick was just as hard as when he had begun blasting me full of that nasty-tasting seed.

His words were what I was thinking as I began to cum.  I felt my body ejaculating violently; the sound of my sperm-shots splattering on his jeans around his ankles was an added turn-on.  “Oh fuck YEAH bro!  Shoot that shit!” he encouraged me and began skull-pumping me again.

I’d gone into primal goon-mode; intended to blow my wad with his dick captive in my mouth and throat and then we’d be on our way.  But this young buck was again priming his pump; and pump he did.  “FUCK, dude!  You have me so worked-up and I’ve been so backed-up; no time to empty my tanks lately.”

“Mmmmmm,” I acknowledged hungrily as I worked that thick big white dick over from its fat head to its very thick veiny root.  I pulled free for a moment and asked, “You clean?   Wanna fuck this one into me?” and then had him exclaiming again as I gobbled that knob and shaft again.   It was a silly ambiguous question given he’d face-fucked me as good as any ass-fuck already.  But …

He ran his hand down along my back; spent a moment with his fingers feeling-up and pulling on the thick thatch of fur at the base of my back above my ass.  Then he grabbed my ass clumsily; his fingers splayed but his middle finger diving for my hole.  I pushed out to meet his digit and felt his palm and other fingers glide over my hairy ass as he pushed his dry finger into my wet ass.  “Fuck dude you’re wet!”

Duh.  I was having the time of my life with a virile sweaty gym stud half my age.

“And TIGHT!” he added in reply to me clenching around his second knuckle as he pushed farther inside me.

I came off him enough to put him in his place; I craned my neck back to look into his face as he leant over me.  “My husband’s bigger than you and I can milk him to cumming without moving anything but my ass muscles!”

His eyes widened a lot but then he threw his head back when I swallowed him whole again.  “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!” he shouted louder than any before.

We in our relative positions and his finger inside me and didn’t afford him a good angle to get my button; it didn’t stop him from rooting around in my hole with his thick middle finger.  He got his index fingertip inside me too; I could have easily prevented it but allowed the stretch and then clenched on both of them.  “DUDE!” he cried.  “Will you fuck your next load into me if I do you now?”

I’m a middle-aged man.  I’m also a married man and not by requirement but by tacit agreement and practice if we played separately we did it within certain boundaries of practice.  The former fact could preempt it as an impossibility; I’d cum hard minutes before and despite a surge in my own virility a round two was far from a certainty.   The latter was mostly on me; I knew if I told Kent after the fact that I’d been carried away with the moment that it would make him HOT in all the right ways.

The stud … What the fuck was his name again?  He told me didn’t he?  Was this a hot anon scene being played-out by me IRL?  I thought and my hole clenched again on his thick fingers … withdrew his fingers from my hole abruptly enough to make me wince and groan.  He was reaching around to find my cock.  He did; and to my own astonishment he gripped me and found it three-quarters hard again.  “You’re a big fucker too!” my stud observed; and I felt myself throb in his hold.  “Fuck dude you should be fucking me right now!”

He broke free of me.  Spit and mucous strung off his dick shining in the over-head light and swung about as his fat rod swung in the air out of my reach.  He was grabbing at my shoulder and my arm.  “Come on dude.  We’re fucking in my bedroom!”

He half-pulled me to my feet and I stood before he was pulling me toward a door.  I stumbled and caught myself on the wall; my feet were still in my sneakers and my gym shorts and jock-strap were tangled around my ankles.  He’d yanked up his jeans and was holding them so he could maneuver.

It had started at the gym.  My husband Kent had told me to go on without him; he was working on a deadline and doing final edits to a draft of something on a topic way beyond my comprehension.

This ginger stud’s interest was overt when we were on the gym floor and he’d made the offer clear.  By then I was intoxicated by his strong sweat and the sight of his fuzzy ginger thighs as he spotted me on presses.  I’d wryly held up my ring finger and waved my shiny wedding band at him in response to the come-on.  He’d said he wouldn’t tell if I didn’t and headed to the lockers; it was our last set anyway and I was sweating … and my blood was rushing.  I’d texted Kent a hastily-snapped pic of the stud’s wide back, bubble butt straining in his rugby-type shorts, and thick calves.  “You mind me getting all hot and bothered for you before I CUM home?” I’d texted.  Cheesy but hey …

Kent had responded immediately.  “Please do!  I’m about an than an hour from submitting.  Then you can submit to me.  XOXO”

I followed … WHAT IS his name again?”  Had he told me? … to the the men’s locker room.   Actually the time between when he grinned at me and left and when I “followed” was probably too long to consider it following in any context; he’d probably have collected his things and left.  Or he’d be in the showers all wet and …  And the only way out of the men’s locker room other than emergency exits was within my view …

That gave me some reassurance (reASSurance? I laughed to myself) as I headed across the gym main area and down the long hallway to the lockers.

It was mid-morning and the gym was sparsely attended.  When I rounded into the locker room I had a view of its entirety either directly or in the windows that stretched down one wall over what Kent calls “selfie stations.”  Aside from one other man, there he was.  I’ll call him “Red” until I remember his name.

The other guy down at the other end of the locker room was a man older than me; but he had all the appearance of a hard-core body-builder.  He had muscles upon muscles, was wearing a string tank to show many of them off, had a decades-built ‘roid gut, and by my judgment a tense determined look; maybe mean.  The ‘roids? I wondered.

Red was grinning at me; and wow he was stark naked with a towel over his shoulder just standing there leaning against a locker.   To be clear he was still wearing his ball cap, still backward, and his close-cropped curly ginger stubble-length locks visible over his ears.  And man without his clothes he was even more built than I’d seen when he briefly raised his sweat-soaked t-shirt hem and wiped the beads of sweat from his face or my face had very nearly been between his corded defined thighs.  Wide shoulders tapered to an impossibly narrow waist over ripped thick legs; I knew what the back-side looked like and wouldn’t soon forget it.  Raging fiery red bush over a long thick uncut floppy dick with a large fat head which hung over a respectable set of balls in a hairy loose sac; the balls were smaller proportionately than his over-sized dick; by reflex I gave his huge slab pecs, baseball-sized biceps, melon-sized shoulders, thick thighs, and bulging calves another once-over.  I’m not a ‘roid snob I promise; but ‘roid-heads can be unpredicably moody and erratic so I just prefer to steer clear.  He looked natural … as men as young as he can build that muscle naturally when they start early enough.

I walked right up to Red; I had no other reason to be in the locker room.  “Like what you see?” he asked in a voice no lower than he had used while we were spotting each other.  He obviously wasn’t concerned about our fellow locker room inhabitant.

“More and more,” I told him nearly pressing against him I was that close.

“I’m assuming my place given your … ?“ he held-up his hand and wiggled his bare ring finger.

“Oh I already got clearance,” I told him and his grin widened.  “He’s looking forward to hearing all about it.”

“‘He’?” he repeated.

“Yeah, I’m gay.  Like you knew or wouldn’t have wanted me to suck your dick.  What did you think?”   I knew; he was your quintessential mid-twenties bro hot from the pump and saw a gay guy to blow him.  It was inane to ask but the strong scent of his hard work-out and the heat radiating off his muscular structure made me want to perpetuate our CMNM scene as gay porn would have described it.

“You’re so … regular guy looking; I thought you were straight,” he answered sheepishly.

He’s gay?  Fuck me I’m losing my gaydar in my middle age.  I briefly wondered how many men live to be 106 years old   

“Thank you?” I asked and wasn’t entirely joking.  “Do you only fuck around with straight married men?”

“Is that question like, ‘When did you stop beating off?’” he asked.  I didn’t bother to correct him; neither on the mis-quote nor on the fact that no this was completely straight-forward, contextual, and highly germain to the matter at hand.

Speaking of … I felt the slightest nudge against my belly button area and looked down; he was raging hard … and magnificently thick and remained hooded.   “I see if you throw me back because I’m gay it won’t be for lack of interest,” I said with an intense stare directly into his very blue eyes.

His look had changed; caught or distressed.  “Oh hell no … I’m not … “  For a moment I thought about my husband at home and hoped he’d finish early because I was coming home HOT however this turned-out!  “I live in the Mer complex right behind here.  I’m walking.”  He said it all quickly and it took a minute to catch-up in my brain … sparked by my dick and balls telling me we’re back in the game.

My turn to grin.  “Don’t shower!”  His grin turned wicked.  “I’d say don’t get dressed but that could be problematic.”

He laughed and without a word turned and grabbed a pair of jeans from his open locker.  I made no move away from him and enjoyed the air movement laden with his scent as me made the motions.  He free-balled it and then stuffed his large feet into his sneakers without socks.  The rest he stuffed into his gym bag in a wad and he said, “Let’s go,” shirtless.

Thus now I was being nearly dragged off my feet toward Red’s living room.  “Get those fuckers off,” he barked though he’d pulled-up and zipped his jeans to hold them up.  His boner was sticking out above the waistband by two or more inches.  I managed to get out of my shorts and kicked off my sneakers but looked pointedly at his jeans as I did.  He got the message and pulled them down hurriedly; his dick appreciated it, and swung out in a wide arc appealingly.

“Better,“ I said smirking

“You fuck me first!“ he growled.

I laughed and took him by the dick and headed toward the door way that revealed a bedroom beyond.  It was apparently the right way; as he was pushing me from behind and then overtook me once we were in the bedroom and flopped onto the bed on his back with his legs in the air and his hard dick now parallel with those cobble-stone abs of his.  FUCK he was a dish!  I wished Kent was here to share it.

He was reaching into a drawer to his side, and came up only with a small bottle of lube.  I asked him, “You never answered my question; are you clean?”

He never stopped what he was doing; by now he had lubed his fingers and was lubing his astonishingly inviting hairy hole.  Looking directly at me he said, “I wouldn’t have asked you to fuck me if I wasn’t clean; do you want to see my tests?”

“Actually yes I do and I’ll show you mine. I’ll be right back; I’m gonna grab my phone out of my shorts.”

“Grab mine out of my jeans too would ya?”

I was back in a flash and threw his jeans at him while I got my phone out and scrolled to the lab app.  He was faster and held up his phone.  I approached as I brought my own results up.  “I’m on PrEP too.”

Michael! I saw from his report.  And I finally remembered he’d said that: “‘Michael’” not ‘Mike’.”  I’d told him my name too and had resisted the cheek to say, “‘Al’ not ‘Allan’,” back at him.  I showed him my phone’s screen.  “Me too,” I commented.

He tossed his phone to the side table, rolled back again with his feet in the air, and held them wide with his hands on his ankles.  “NOW will you fuck me?  Allan?”  with a mischievous smirk.  I let it pass.

He was making his hole wink at me; what’s a guy to do?  I mounted him quickly and without any hesitation; I gambled that hole could take me … and won that bet.

“Ooooomph you’re big and hard!” he grunted.

“You should feel my husband!” I told him with my face directly over his almost planking him and having bent him in half.  For a muscled stud he was limber. 

He was folded in half and squinting.  “God I’d fuckin’ love to!” he grunted breathlessly.  “But for now just fuck the shit out of me!”

I did.  Hard.  Hoping he wasn’t being literal.  Deep-dicking his tight hot hole and enjoying the sights and sounds that came with it.  Michael was moaning and sometimes groaning; his taut muscles rippled tantalizingly with every direct hit.  And my groin was slapping his hard bubble butt and seemed to echo in the vaulted ceiling of his top-floor apartment.

I changed it up a few times to find his spot; when I did the effect was like he’d been shocked with electricity.  “FUCK YES!” he shouted.  “Oh fuck yeah,” he cried over and over as I varied the impact on that target; and he threw his head side-to-side jerkily almost violently.   When I changed my vector enough to hit and then graze as I went deeper and for my head to knock it again on the way back he threw his head up and with an intensity that was startling said, “OH MY FUCKIN’ GOD!  Can you keep doing that?”

Again I did as his question implored.  Anyone who remembers “Lassie” in the movie Porky’s can imagine the sounds he made as I worked that love nut of his relentlessly.  When he was finally seizing-up and his moans were contorted wails from me edging him off repeatedly but keeping him that close I was to the point I couldn’t hold-out any longer.  “I’m. Going. To. Fill. Your. Worthless. Pussy. Up!” I snarled as I pounded him into oblivion.  My husband was the one of us who got borderline degrading sometimes when his huge dick was hard; but look at me all daddy-macho!

My groin felt bruised from the intense pounding of the home stretch; sweet agony!  I felt my first exit burst after my entire body exploded; and right as I felt the flow rocket through my lead pipe of a cock that was buried in him he erupted.  The first from him while I well truly blasted him full was a small gush that flooded the ridges between and around his top two abs and puddled in his cum gutters as it spread as far as it could.  But as I was on my third forceful blast inside him he let out a second volley which went clean over his head and left a thick white rope from his abs all the way up him and on his forehead.  By the time we were both done I felt like my balls might be a quarter their size; like I’d shot a gallon into his pussy.  Michael was gasping for breath below me and his cum was by then splattered and puddling in every ridge and two prominent thick ropes striated his sweat-slick face with others up his mounds of chest muscle; impressive considering it felt like a gallon of his juice had blasted into my mouth and throat just before round two.

“Can I send my husband a photo of you like this?” I asked.

“Fuuuuuck!” he moaned.  I wondered if he was going to say no or worse tell me he has to “be discreet” probably because he has some muscle daddy for a boyfriend who’d want to kick my ass for using his boy without permission.  I started to pull out of him and he yelled, “DON’T!”  I looked at his face again and he was grinning wickedly.  “I want the pic to show that big cock of yours in me still too.”

My phone was to the side on the bed where I’d pitched it earlier after the results-reveal.   I stretched over pivoting at the point I was inserted in him.  I stretched my arm out after opening the camera app; when I showed him the photo his wicked grin was even more wicked.  “Approved?”

“You know you’re still hard inside me right?” he asked.

Amazingly he was right!  I’m not sure how my endorphin rush from the workout parlayed the additional double-cum into a priapic fantasy come to reality.

“You wanna know the last time I came like that just from being dicked-down?” he asked.

“Sure,” I told him although I took note that I did know the last time and again he was imprecise in his wording.  I put that obsessive thought away while I texted Kent the photo.

“Never!  That’s when!!!” he sort of spat out.  “Dude that was a fantasy come true!  Think you could do that again?” he asked and clenched his pussy on my raging dick.

Actually if my dick stayed hard I was sure I could; it’s nothing but good aim, timing, rhythm, experience, and control.  But I told him, “I’m twice your age.  The probability that I can keep this UP is low.”

He squeezed around me and my body shuddered.  At the same time he raised enough to reach around and find my ball bag and hefted them.  “What if I just milk out whatever’s left and grind myself on you until I blow.” 

“I’d probably be dead!” I told him with a chuckle but touched my racing stripe scar down my torso from my cardio-thoracic surgeries.

He reached up and ran his hand down over my scar from my collar bone to my groin.  “Al I’m a nurse in the CCU; and judging from what we just did I’d bet that your heart is in better condition than most men fifteen years younger than you.”

Kent texted me back just then.  “Great job!  It’s taking longer for me to finish this assignment.  I’m frustrated.  Bring him when you come home.  I’ve got enough pent-up for both of you.”  He included a photo of his formidable hard-on.

I showed the photo to Michael whose cum had puddled on both sides of his torso after running over his sides onto the formerly impressively neat and clean bed cover.  “He looks bigger than you; and you’re both bigger than me and I’m usually the big dick in the room!”

“You weren’t complaining about size earlier,” I told him while I thumbed the screen and got Kent’s message up for him to see.

“I’m on shift at eight again tonight,” he said after reading Kent’s text.

I jerked my softening dick out of him.  “Well we’d better get going so you can get back  and get a few hours of sleep after he’s done with you.”

He didn’t argue.