Goals

by Bill Drake

23 Apr 2023 11940 readers Score 9.2 (191 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


Story idea by and collaboration with top son Turner ([email protected]).

[SCOTT]

"So what are your goals, Mr. D?"

We were sitting in a side area of a large cinderblock-construction room that was part of a gym the next town over. It was more of a lifter's gym for serious dudes, and a change of pace from the corporate health club I normally went to downtown. And certainly a change from the country club where I golfed on the weekends or on days off. 

But when I hit 50 and decided to get a personal trainer, I'd scoured the online listings and read reviews and came across a familiar face: Austin White, a baseball player who'd dated my daughter back in high school. Well, he wasn't playing baseball these days but had graduated from college and was now working back in a nearby suburb as a personal trainer. 

"You don't have to call me Mr. D," I reminded him. "You're no longer dating Shannon."

The trainer flashed a pearly white smile. He definitely had Lady Killer written all over him. Strikingly handsome-cute, laidback, and no small amount of easy charm. "Sorry, Scott," he laughed softly. "Old habits..."

I smiled back. "Yeah.... hope you didn't mind me looking you up." It had seemed like a great idea at the time, but now that I was face to face with Shannon's ex boyfriend, I realized there was something a little awkward about it all.

Austin put me at ease. "Glad you did, Scott," he said. "But you didn't answer my question."

"My goals?" I prompted, recalling what he'd asked me. "Well, I turned 50 last week..."

"50's a number," he said, challenging me some. "Not a goal."

I nodded. "I guess I've let myself go some, to be honest. I'd like to get back in shape... healthier. And I guess there are some personal reasons, too," I admitted shyly.

He flashed that Lady Killer smile again. "I'm a professional Scott... you can tell me."

I chuckled. "Well, I'm hoping to rekindle things in the bedroom, you know?"

I felt dumb saying it, particularly to a dude as young and jacked as Austin. But he didn't miss a beat. "That's a pretty good motivation, Scott," he grinned. "And common, too. It's good to be honest with yourself about what drives you." He picked up his clipboard to take notes. "OK, so we know a big goal... any others?"

I filled him in on some lingering back and hip issues. They didn't keep me from being active, but they affected my golf game sometimes. "I'm afraid I haven't always prioritized being active," I said, no longer embarrassed but feeling proud I was taking the first step to being a better Scott Delahunt. "You know, long hours, lots of sitting at a desk..."

"Still doing the executive thing?" Austin asked.

"Yes. CFO," I clarified. "Though at a different company than when I last saw you."

"That's cool," he said. "And we'll work on your back and hip and see if we can improve your overall mobility... training's not a substitute for physical therapy of course but it can complement it," the guy added thoughtfully. "I work with all types of clients, but I specialize in men over 40.... you know more functional training and flexibility."

"Sounds great," I said. 

"I just want to make sure my clients are on the same page with expectations."

"I'm putty in your hands, good sir," I half joked.

He laughed. "All right, Scott," he said, standing up from his chair. "Let's do some measurements and a few diagnostics." Austin had put on some muscle since high school for sure, and the form-fitting zip-up and joggers showed off a body that was big but that somehow didn't look overly musclebound. This young dude was definitely gonna be some inspiration for my own fitness journey.

I stepped on the scale. "198," Austin read out. "And 6-foot-even?" he asked. 

"Maybe a hair shy, but yeah, 6 foot." I stepped off. "I really would love to lose the spare tire," I said, patting my midsection. I didn't have an outright beer belly, but I had some major love handles and midlife spread there.

Austin's easy smile was gone and he was in full business mode. "We'll work on it," he assured me, gesturing me over to a mat to do a timed plank. "There's no quick fix," he explained as he started the stopwatch. "No crash diets, either... I believe in strength training first as a foundation and then we'll work on the rest, OK?"

"Yeah," I grunted. I was holding my own I guess, but my lack of regular exercise was biting me in the ass, hard.

I did better on some of the diagnostics and not as hot on the other. 

"I told you, Austin," I said. "You're getting a real project." Pulling out the self deprecating humor.

He was still in business mode. "I'm not one of those hardass trainers, but I have only one rule, Mr. D," he said, his old nickname slipping back. "No comparing yourself to anyone else. If you're on social media, I want you off it. In here, for 60 minutes twice a week, it's going to be about you... what you're doing and what you can do better and how we can get you there. Not any of the other guys. OK? "

"Got it," I said. It felt weird being bossed around by a man half my age, but Austin was the one with the Instagram body. I'd follow his lead. 

We walked on toward the locker area. "And one other thing you'll learn about me, Scott," he added with a wink. "I have more than one rule."

****

[AUSTIN]

"Beast!" I grunted in encouragement as Scott pumped out a personal record on the bench press. He even did two reps without my spot, before I helped him on the third. As I helped guide the bar back into pace I saw his exertion-red face and concerted look break into a wide smile. 

Psychology is a big part of my job. Every client is different and has different things that motivate them as well as different reasons they weren't motivated before they came to me. Being a trainer doesn't mean being a miracle worker, but you try to figure out what's going to work for a man or woman in the gym. 

But I'd never seen a man respond so well to encouragement as Scott. I honestly didn't know what to expect when Shannon's dad first contacted me. But I always liked the guy, and he'd always made me feel welcome when I was over at the Delahunt house. He'd always take the time to say hello or chat and ask me how the baseball season was going or what colleges I was considering. When anyone else had grilled me about college, it felt like pressure - like "are you good enough for my daughter" BS - but with Mr. D, it felt like genuine interest. 

Now that I'd been training the man for over a year, I'd gotten to see another side of him. He was guarded at first, but after a few months he'd started being more open. Something about the extra time to chat in the gym does wonders for getting the conversation flowing. He didn't talk ill about Mrs. Delahunt, but the man was clearly frustrated in his marriage. I was getting the picture of a man who'd thrown himself into a high-powered career and who liked to show off the spoils of financial success. And he wasn't happy. 

"Give it a couple minutes rest," I said as Scott sat up, stretching his arms a little and rubbing out the burn in his triceps. "And maybe we can try for 10 more?"

"Oh yeah," the executive said enthusiastically. "Let's do it."

As he cooled down for a bit, he asked. "You doing anything this weekend, Austin?"

I was putting two fives on the barbell. "My Dad's coming to visit."

Scott looked into my face. "You're not excited are you?" he said, observant as hell.

I sighed. "I don't know, Scott... a dumb part of me looks forward to it every time.... but when he's here, it's like we don't have anything to talk about. He'll spend a couple hours with me, then go meet up with one of his buddies instead."

Scott didn't try to tell me it was OK. Or make excuses for my Dad. He just listened. "That's tough, guy," he finally said. "I guess some parents aren't good with the emotional stuff."

He got into place and went for another set. I had to spot him for a good deal of that one rep. I could read the disappointment in his face. 

"Give it a longer rest," I urged. "Refocus. You got this, Scott."

The next attempt wasn't pretty, but it was all Scott. And the beaming look of pride in his face after was one of those moments that makes my job worth it.

[SCOTT]

"You hear from Shannon lately?" Austin asked between squats. He'd been pushing me more on leg days lately, and I was starting to see progress. 

I never knew for sure why Austin and Shannon broke up, but Austin was a grade ahead of Shannon and gone off to college before her. A part of me wondered if Austin still had a thing for my daughter, but I figured this was just something to talk about, the connection that first brought us together in the gym.

"Not lately. I only hear from her when she needs money," I said wryly.

"Oof," my trainer gave a "that hurts" wince. "For real?"

"I exaggerate some," I explained. "But not a lot. Sometimes it feels like she sees her Daddy as a living, walking credit card."

Austin gave me a reassuring, empathetic look. "Well, at least she's probably having a blast in college, right?"

It was the perfectly timed joke, and it made me crack up. "That she is, buddy," I said. 

I got in place and knocked out another set of squats. It was a struggle, but I got to eight. 

"Nice," I heard Austin say. Then he added some weights. 

"Sorry if I'm out of line, Scott, but Shannon is a spoiled B. She kind of always was."

I grimaced. He was right, but I didn't appreciate him talking about my daughter like that. "Maybe she is, but I take some responsibility in that. Kelly too... we both spoiled her growing up. We just wanted her to have the finer things, you know."

Austin gave me a look that said he felt contrite, even if he wasn't saying his apology out loud. "Better than the opposite, Scott," he said. "You're there for her, that's what matters."

"Things been rocky with your Old Man lately?" I asked. 

Austin shrugged. He had a jock's bluster, but I could tell he hid how much things bothered him. Even discussing his relationship with his father, he tried to pass it off in an even, unaffected tone. "Worse. I haven't heard from him in two months. I left a couple of voice mails, but felt like some desperate chick wanting a second date."

"I take it you speak from experience in brushing off desperate chicks," I teased, trying to change the subject.

Austin grinned. God, he really was a strikingly handsome young man. "Ah, I talk a big game, Scott. Truth is, I guess I'm just waiting for the right one, you know."

It was adorable to see this muscled up ex-jock act shy, and endearing too. "I'm sure she'll come, Austin," I assured him. "Probably sooner than you think."

He looked at me as if he was trying to decide whether he could share a secret. He did. "It'd be a 'he,' Scott."

"Oh," I muttered dumbly. It didn't even occur to me that Austin would be gay. In fairness, I knew him first as Shannon's boyfriend. 

The guy went into reassuring mode. "I don't generally share my personal business," he said. "With any of my clients..."

There was the Mr. Business side of my trainer coming out. Serious, professional. 

"I'm glad you did, Austin," I said. "Um, is that why things didn't work out with you and Shannon?" Maybe none of my business, but I was curious as hell.

He didn't seem fazed by my question. "Yes and no. I mean I didn't decide I really preferred men until college. But even in high school I felt I wasn't 100% into dating the girls I was with. No disrespect to your daughter..."

"None taken," I assured him. 

I did another set. It was getting really fucking hard now. "Let's stretch some," Austin said, a signal we were done with squats for the day. 

On the mat, Austin guided me through some gentle stretches.

My curiosity was still getting the best of me. 

"So... you have any boyfriends in college?" I asked. Before stopping myself. "Sorry... that's none of my business."

He didn't admonish me but just said softly. "Yeah, like I say I don't advertise my personal business."

[AUSTIN]

Like with a lot of clients, I told Scott not to weigh himself at home constantly. We'd step on the locker room scale once a month. That way, he'd be focused on strength and diet and not on the ups and downs.

I could tell he was nervous that day as he stepped on, wearing only his compression. I tried to act normal around Scott Delahunt, but the man was my type to a T. Older, just the right amount of muscle, clean cut daddy. A year and a half of training had done wonders for an already good looking man. His back had a nice curve and definition and his shoulders and arms were swells of rounded muscle. He still had a little padding on his middle but his gut was solid muscle behind it. He'd definitely lost some extra weight.

"190!" he beamed. "I haven't weighed 190 since my 30s," he said as he stepped off the scale and turned toward me. Scott wasn't overly hairy but he had a nice pelt of light brown hair on his now defined chest and torso.

"And some of that is extra muscle," I reminded him. "So... you told me your goal when we started... any luck in the bedroom?" I tried to make it sound professional, or maybe buddy-to-buddy. But lately I'd been thinking way too much of Scott Delahunt having sex.

He shook his head. "Not really," he said. I expected a sad sack expression but instead he just replied, "But I've decided I'm doing this for me, actually."

"Yeah?" I asked. I wasn't sure if he was just parroting what he thought I wanted to hear. 

"It's about time I focused on what makes me happy, you know?"

"You should," I said. "You deserve that."

He gave me a grateful look. But he didn't respond. Instead, it was like he was displaying his body for me. Not lecherous exactly, and I think I did a damn good job of hiding my attraction to him. But it was like he wanted a gay dude's approval of his improved physique. Some straight dudes have hang ups about gay men checking them out, but I've met a couple of buds who feel they can trust me with my assessment of them physically.

I ventured a compliment. "You're looking really good, Scott. Muscle, definition, and the slimmer midsection are really coming together," I said. "Incredible progress, really."

He ate it up. "I couldn't be doing it without you, buddy. For real."

I forced myself to stop ogling his half naked body, as I told him I'd see him for our session Friday. 

When I got home, though, I jerked off. A nice heavy load just imagining mounting Scott doggy style and pounding him hard and fast. As I cleaned up, I had to laugh at how turned on I was by this 51 year old corporate exec. Like, I always had to pine for the unavailable ones. 

I just hoped for his sake that Scott Delahunt was getting laid that night. 

[SCOTT]

It was tough getting back into the gym after two weeks. Austin kind of laughed as I showed my frustration at not being able to bench nearly as much as before. 

"Been there, Scott," he patted my shoulder as I sat up. He'd been doing that more lately, touching me. Nothing too weird or invasive, kind of like one close buddy might do for another. But knowing Austin was a gay dude made me read something into it, I suppose. Not that he'd be into a middle-aged man like me. But I did find myself wondering a lot about the kind of men Austin was into. I chalked it up to idle curiosity. Austin had opened up a lot to me as we trained and talked, but he kept one part of himself private. 

"How was Italy?" he asked. 

"Incredible," I replied. "Villa in Tuscany, good weather, amazing food... what's not to like?" I started. 

"That's awesome," Austin said. He seemed to enjoy living vicariously through his clients' vacations, and I knew that as a trainer he probably didn't have the time or money to do any big travel. 

I nodded. "Yeah, but this sounds spoiled as hell to say... but I would have been as happy on one of your Smokies camping weekends." Austin grew up in the east part of the state and still enjoyed getting up into the mountains from time to time. 

He gave me a sympathetic look. "Yeah, why's that?"

I shrugged. I felt like sometimes I unloaded a lot onto my trainer, but it was like he was the one guy who'd understand. "I dunno... With Kelly, it sometimes feels like things have to be perfect... you know, THE best winery and THE best private tour... and she spends half the vacation posting the pictures on Facebook so her friends all know how she's having THE best fucking vacation.... sorry, man, I know I'm being a jaded asshole."

Austin patted my shoulder again. That touch against my warm shoulder through my workout shirt. "Not at all, man. You just have a better perspective on life is all." He gave me another pat. "Ready for another set?"

I nodded and got back into place. We finished up at the bench and went to do a superset of dumbbell exercises. 

I was a little out of breath when we finally paused.

"Tough, huh?" Austin said, reading my face. 

I nodded, not quite formulating a word. "Yah. Sorry."

"Take a sec," he assured me. He had me drink some water. 

As we went to do some stretches and core work, our conversation resumed. 

"So... I didn't know you were into camping," Austin said.

"I'm not," I replied. "At least I haven't done it since I was a boy scout. But the idea of getting away from Brentwood seems real appealing sometimes."

Austin squatted down next to me and reached over to pull my hip to correct my form. "No offense, Scott, but you're Brentwood through and through."

I laughed. "Yeah, I guess," I said. Austin was originally from a small town in east Tennessee and had moved to the Nashville suburbs when he was 12. He seemed to have mixed feelings about the tony suburbs we lived in, and I had a hard time figuring them out. "Guilty as charged."

"I'm just razzing ya, Scott," Austin said, that easy going charm coming back. 

[AUSTIN]

I'd taken a break from the apps. I told myself it was healthy to do so, but maybe it was healthier to get laid. In case, Scott's break from the gym somehow made me miss the guy. I was becoming crushed out on my client. I told myself that was because I wasn't getting any daddy ass.

My profile was clear. 24yo total top clean cut jock into masculine 40+ daddies. Inexperienced OK. Married or DL OK. Just be willing and ready to take care of my 7.5 inch cock. No-strings fun only.

I had a great set of pictures that got a lot of bites. That first weekend of Scott's vacation I got messaged by five men. Two just weren't my thing, two were smoking hot, and one was OK. I messaged the smoking hot daddies back and clicked with a businessman staying downtown. He wasn't Scott Delahunt hot but he was my type. 48, balding, strong barrel chested build, trimmed goatee. He was married but played when he was out of town. I assured him I was totally discreet.

It had actually been six months since I'd hooked up with a guy. I remembered now how fun it could be. Even dealing with the traffic heading into downtown. When I got to his hotel room, he'd just gotten out of the shower, freshly cleaned for me, and had a towel wrapped around his waist. He had a soft belly, not big but more along the lines of what Scott had when he started with me. His front was incredibly furry and I found the swirls of hair incredibly hot. 

"Hey," he grinned as he led me in. He could barely take his eyes off me. I'm not an egotist... well, I am a little. But it's great to have that silent appreciation of my looks. His words made it explicit. "Man," he said in a deeper-South accent. "I thought you wouldn't live up to your pictures, but you're incredible."

My eyes swept his body too. He wasn't the hottest man I'd ever slept with but I loved his real dad-ness... married-with-kids Southern daddy, deep voice, ex-jock vibe. "I'm liking what I see, too," I growled, pulling my shorts up to let my boner ride up. I had been looking forward to some release real bad. 

He seemed like he'd won the lottery ticket. "Dang! You really do go for older guys don't ya?"

"Exclusively," I said. I loved the chance to be direct with men about my sexual preferences. I stepped up to him and ran my hands along the soft furred belly before slipping my hands around his waist to pull him toward me for a kiss. 

Some married guys aren't into kissing. I forgot to ask if Business Daddy was OK with it. He was. Or made an exception for me. He was used to soft kissing from a woman and was surprised by my approach. But he got into it and was soon pawing at my T-shirt, feeling up my muscle. 

I was getting worked up, fast. My fingers undid his towel and felt up the bare buns. Some men like Scott Delahunt had to work to develop a thick round ass. This guy had the genetics for it. I could be satisfied with a nice slow BJ from a hot daddy, but knowing from our DMs that this guy wasn't virgin made me really want to tap his hole. 

"What are your thoughts on the D word?" I growled. Business Daddy seemed real into me, and I felt I had the cards, at least enough to push this. 

"Daddy?" he asked, to clarify. 

"'Dad' is even hotter to me," I said, taking his wrist and guiding it to the hard ridge in my mesh shorts. Instantly his thick fingers curled greedily around it. 

He gulped. "Never done that scene," he admitted. "But if it turns you on, buddy..."

"It turns me the fuck on," I assured him. I kissed him again then kissed and licked along his ear lobe. "Why don't you get down and suck my dick, Dad?" I whispered. 

He had a naughty look on his face as he crouched down. The man wasn't all that hung and his shorter dick stood out like a spike from his hairy crotch as he got down. He peeled down my shorts, like he was unwrapping a Christmas present.

"Dang... fucking big piece ya got, buddy," he hissed, taking it in his hand and licking it. "Go easy on me, will ya?"

"Yeah, Dad," I hissed, not wanting to get out of this scene now that I had the green light. Then I felt his warm mouth descend on me. Business Daddy wasn't experienced but I wasn't his first cock either. It was a nice sweet spot. I imagined my father doing this to me. Sucking me, learning how to suck me. 

"That's it, Dad," I grunted. "Suck your boy. Love your hot fucking mouth on my dick, sir." Some guys were turned off by my verbal approach, and others were way turned off by the incest scene. That's one reason I sometimes found hookups not to be satisfying. It was hard to develop a rapport to go deep with a one-off guy. 

But Business Daddy was getting into it, sucking me more fully now, with a bit more of a slow suction that was getting me worked up. I watched his balding head bob up and down on my crotch. My own father had more hair, though it too was thinning. Like Scott Delahunt's.

"If you keep sucking, Dad, I'm gonna cum," I warned. "But I really wanna fuck you, sir."

Business daddy pulled off and took one admiring look at my spit wet dong. "Damn you are a pervy fucker," he laughed. 

I kicked off my shorts and peeled off my T-shirt. "Yeah I'm a perv," I replied. In the past I might have felt embarrassed but now I was unapologetic. I fisted my cock and looked him in the eye. "When was the last time you got fucked?"

He seemed to be on the defensive now, and I worried I let my horns get the worst of me. If I fucked this up....

"Two years," he said softly. "I don’t usually...."

"You enjoy it?" I questioned him. 

He nodded, blushing some. "A little too much."

"You got ready for me, right?" I just wanted to remind him of the reason I was there and not hooking up with one of the other guys. 

He nodded. "You're intense, you know that right?" he said. Like his physical attraction to me was countered by a vibe that just wasn't working for him. 

"I'm just horny, man," I explained. "I haven't fucked a guy in six months. I fucking miss it."

"A dude like you... I would have thought..." he started and didn't have to finish. 

"Let me eat you for a bit," I said. "I want you to want this, man."

He nodded and got on the bed, pulling his legs back. Fuck, that hole was beautiful. Furry dad trench with a nice tight hole. I got in place and examined it, taking my time before leaning in and licking. Business Daddy was squeaky clean and I took the opportunity to go to town, really feasting on that ass like it was my last meal. 

It was a nice cool down from the BJ and the Dad-talk earlier but also worked me up in a way. 

"Lube?" I asked when I finally pulled back. He gestured to the small table on the other side of the bed. I went around and Business Daddy scooted to reposition himself on the bed. 

I took my time fingering him, talking with him about men and cocks and fucking. I avoided the Dad-Son stuff since I wanted to build the vibe rather than kill it. 

"So..." I said as I now slid three slick fingers in and out of his stretched tightness. I had the conquerer gene in me, I suppose, because I LOVED the idea of getting a hole that had barely been fucked. "We talked a little earlier... I'm on PREP and get tested regularly... I'd love to get in you raw, sir."

"I've never done that," he whispered, but I could see his shorter, fatter dick throb as I worked the first inches of his insides.

"Is that a NO?" I challenged him. I was going to respect his wishes, but I was gonna do my damnedest to get the fuck I wanted then.

"Go ahead, man," he said. "I trust ya."

I scooted up and lined my bare cock against his ring. It took some work, alternating fingering with some teasing with my cock. But I finally breached him in a way that was comfortable for him.

"Easy," I hissed as I rubbed his soft belly and pushed deeper. "Just going slow here.... you got this."

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Feels good actually," he said. His eyes had been on mine but now he looked all over my body. "You're so fricking hot."

I grinned. "You like the jocks, huh?"

"I do," he replied. Not embarrassed, but forthright.

"You wanna tell me about any of them?" I was pushing the envelope for sure, but my cock was almost bottomed out in his hole.

He gave me a grin. "I don't play around at home... but there's the neighbor kid. Got a football scholarship at Ole Miss... hot fucker."

I plowed in. Business Daddy accepted me, his dick thwapping excitedly at the full penetration. "You wish he was here fucking you now?"

"God, man," Business Daddy was the one getting into the pervy headspace now. He reached up and clenched at my sides. Hungry. I gave him the kiss he craved. Then I started thrusting into him. 

"I'd love both of you guys at once," he admitted. "Tag teaming me."

"That'd be hot," I leered, really getting into this. I rarely got to do this level of verbal with a guy, and it was really working me up. "Two jocks... taking turns.... opening up that Daddy hole."

"Yes," he hissed... "fuck me, stud!"

I was getting more athletic with my pumps. "Been too long hasn't it, Daddy... since you had a young cock in ya?"

Maybe the D word was pushing it, but Business Daddy picked it right up. "God yeah, son. Fuck your Dad!"

Oh jesus. The surprise of those words, and the deep Southern accent of them had my balls pumping. Not a pre-orgasmic warning, but the real deal. I was ejaculating hard into this older business man. 

"That's it, son. Get your nut. Show Dad what ya got." For a man who didn't seem into pervy role play, he sure knew what to say now. 

I growled my way through my deep orgasm and then kind of fell on him, reclaiming a kiss as my dick pumped out its dribbles into his conquered hole. 

I gathered my senses and got back into the original position, squirting some lube on his spike and slowly pumping him as I urged him off. I even had him describe that Ole Miss tight end in detail. His whole body went beet red as he came, and I knew it was a major orgasm for him too. 

We made small talk afterwards. He even said he'd hit me up next time he was in Nashville. "You're a wild one, buddy... but I sure as hell enjoyed the ride."

[SCOTT]

"You got anything going on this weekend?" I asked Austin as he had me do some shoulder raises. I'd been trying to find a nonchalant time to bring it up.

He examined my form and counted my reps silently. "Good," he said as I finished the set and set the dumbbells down on a bench. "Nothing really going on. What about you, man?"

I stood squarely to face him. He was the young jacked stud, but I was getting more proud of my body after a year and a half of working out with him, and more confident in my skin, so to speak. "Well, the Titans have a home game Sunday. I was wondering if you wanted to go see them with me," I ventured.

There came that pearly white smile again, and an excited kid-like look. "What, you got tickets?"

"Two of them," I boasted. "I got 'em through work. A buddy of mine was going to go but had to back out." That second part was a lie.

Austin showed some concern. "Man, I'd love to. Hell, I'd really love to. But I can't afford that." I got the feeling he was an independent-spirited man who didn't like to be beholden to others.

"The ticket's just gonna go to waste,” I said, “and I'll enjoy having someone to go with." I saw his resolve start to melt, so figured I could lay out the rest of my plan. "It's an afternoon game, we can get a hotel downtown for the night and live it up a little. Come on... Kelly's doing some girls trip to Napa, and I have a real bachelor's weekend I want to enjoy."

Austin smiled. "Well, when you put it that way.... jesus, I can't believe you have fucking Titans tickets. You go often?" 

I could sense a real envy in his tone. "Yeah, from time to time," I admitted. "I did season tickets a couple years ago, but Kelly griped that my Sundays were all taken up."

He smiled. "I bet these tickets are great seats, too, aren't they?" Teasing me.

"Pretty damn good," I smirked. "We're gonna have a blast, buddy."

[AUSTIN]

I was in a good mood. Strike that, I was in a great mood. The Titans had beaten the Texans but even if they hadn't I just enjoyed being in Nissan Stadium and shouting my lungs out. Scott seemed bemused how into it I was but didn't say anything. The man struck me as something more than a fair weather fan and less than a diehard fan. 

But I was grateful for the ticket and that he'd had me tag along. He insisted on covering the hotel room. "Trust me I got a million hotel points to burn through," he countered. So I got the tab as we grabbed beers in one of the downtown bars.

It was a lot of regular guy talk. About the game and the upcoming Titans season. About how September can be the best month in Nashville. About his wife's wine trip and their fall plans. About the cheat day Scott was having and how my metabolism let me get away with stadium concession food and day drinking on occasion. 

God, he looked good. Great even, in his snug pale blue Titans T-shirt that clung to his arms and pecs and the hint of dad gut he was still chipping away at. I never saw him outside of the gym, at least not since I'd dated his daughter. He was so focused working out, like that was a second job to him. But this was Scott Delahunt in the mood to let down his hair. Smiling, happy, joking. 

Maybe that's what led me to let my hair down too.

"It was my professor," I blurted.

"What?" he asked.

Maybe I enjoyed catching him off guard. But I clarified. "You once asked me who I dated in college. It was my Chemistry professor."

Scott looked at me like I was kidding him. "Are you teasing me?"

I shook my head. "Nah. You're the first guy I've ever told actually. Buy yeah for two years... I don't know if dating was the right word, but it wasn't casual either. He was my first boyfriend."

I kind of wondered if Scott would be put off by the admission. Or even the gay talk. But he seemed laidback about it, and he'd been the one to ask. He took a sip of beer and eyed me up, like he was still trying to decide if I was on the level. "Was this while you were his student or after?"

"While," I replied. "Though we kept hooking up after. That's when I decided maybe I wasn't so bisexual after all."

Scott seemed nervous with that comment but didn't object. Instead, he shook his head. "I would have guessed you would have gone for another college dude."

I shook my head. "Not my thing." Here goes. "I'm only into older guys, actually."

"Really?" Scott was moving from incredulous to amused. "What are we talking about?"

I shrugged. It was kind of a relief to have this open dialogue with the man. "95% of the time, men in their 40s or 50s."

"I knew a buddy in college who was into cougars," he laughed. "The guys gave him a lot of guff, but Taylor got laid so fucking much..." Scott was laughing as he recalled old times then seemed like he had something on his mind. 

"What?" I asked. 

He paused and looked at me. "Nothing, buddy." He held up his now empty pint glass. "Can I get the next round?"

"No doing, Scott," I said, standing up. "I'm buying."

[SCOTT]

Bringing Austin along to the game was the right call, I realized. I'd never seen a guy so thrilled. He'd been to a couple of games before, but it was a rare treat for him. I was happy to have given him that. 

I didn't have any ulterior plans. Then again, maybe I did and just didn't admit them to myself. I told myself I was just having a good time, too. Hanging out with Austin felt freeing, like my college days. Before my career and family, and before the country club set I socialized with. I liked my golf buddies just fine, but there was always that one-up-manship. I could play that game, too, but with Austin, I didn't have to. 

We got a little tipsy but didn't go wild. I told Austin he should just enjoy the downtown nightlife on his own. He clapped a hand on my shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. "No offense to you heteros, Scott, but drunken hos aren't my idea of fun," he laughed. 

I loved that he was freer with me. Not guarded, able to talk about being a gay man. I think stupidly I assumed gay guys didn't have the same problem with sex, of finding regular and compatible partners. But I could tell with Austin, he had some dissatisfactions of his own. I almost asked him about it in the bar, but figured I'd mind my own business. I hoped he'd feel free to share with me some time. 

It had been in the back of my mind. What sex with a guy would be like. Yeah. I'd fooled around some in college, but that was just that, fooling around. Naughty fun I'd have with some buds when we didn't have girlfriends or weren't getting enough. After I met Kelly, I'd fantasize about other women, sometimes a lot. I figured most guys do. But I never gave much thought to men. 

But as Austin and I got ready for bed in the hotel room, I was thinking of it. His eyes were on me. Quiet lust in his eyes that made me feel sexually attractive in a way I hadn't felt in years. This wasn't some cougar in some downtown hotel bar giving me the heavy eye, this was a young hot stud with an Instagram fitness body. Just a dusting of hair but also lots of pale, smooth muscle. 

And, as he strutted out of the bathroom in his boxer briefs, I could see the definition in his round ass and the thick bulge of his crotch. It wasn't fair a young man this perfect should be hung, but I had a good idea he was. I tried not to let him catch me looking at his package, but he gave a soft smirk as I darted my glance away. He ran his thumbs along the waist band to adjust the underwear, but his eyes had a question in them. Maybe a plea. 

"Good night, bud," I said. Forcing myself to slip into the covers of one of the two beds, as if my heart weren't racing a million miles an hour.

"Good night, Scott," came his reply. Almost soft, not cocky. I'd been nervous until that point, but that voice gave me a boner beneath the sheets. And the very fact I was responding to his gentle masculinity added to the thrill. A feeling I hadn't felt before but maybe wanted to for a while.

He turned out the light.

[AUSTIN]

I was so hard, I couldn't sleep. Scott Delahunt had starred in my JO fantasies a lot lately, and I knew after this weekend he was gonna be in them a lot more. I tossed and turned and tried to think of other stuff. I tried to think of the Titans season but then I'd remember one of the coaches I wanted to bone. 

I hoped the beer would catch up and help me sleep. It didn't. I don't know how long I lay awake. Maybe an hour. I decided to go to the bathroom, where I could jerk off in privacy. It wouldn't take long to get my nut and take the edge off.

"Can't sleep either?" I heard Scott say as I scooted to get off the bed. His voice wasn't quiet but wide awake.

"No," I gulped.

"Anything I can do to help?" came his voice in the dark.

My heart pounded. "God, Scott." I was SO close to just saying, "come over and suck me off Daddy." Instead, Scott could tell the frustration in my voice.

"I'm serious, Austin. If you wanna ask me, I won't judge." he said. Then, "I actually kind of want you to ask me."

My heart melted. Here was my dream man, vulnerable as hell. Maybe I'd made him feel that way. Maybe it was just fate.

"Would you join me in my bed?" I asked. Into the darkness of the room. I thought of turning on the lamp but didn't want to break the spell that was set between us. 

Scott didn't answer, and I first I though I'd fucked it up big time. Misread what he was suggesting. But then I heard his mattress squeak and then felt his warm body bump against mine beneath the sheets. I scooted over to give him room. 

The man was shaking some, but his hands were not wasting time eagerly touching my body. I knew from his touch he'd been thinking about this, wondering what my muscle would feel like. I let him feel and reached down to take off my briefs in case he wanted to feel more. 

"Fuck!" he hissed. 

"We can take this slow, Scott," I assured him as my own hands were pawing at his older muscle. I'd never get sick of the feel and rougher skin of a middle aged man. And the idea of what he represented to me. Power, authority, experience. I kept my urges in check and slowly caressed his warm back.

The man pulled his hands back some and like that he was peeling his own underwear off. Baring himself for me.

I don't know what I felt first, his hard dick against mine or his lips pressing into a kiss. It wasn't until that kiss that I realized how much I'd pent up. And how much Scott had pent up himself. He was married, maybe nominally straight or whatever. But this man wanted me. 

In my past times with older guys, I insisted on getting serviced. It was part of my thing, I guess, my power trip. But I'd heard enough of Scott's marital woes, that I knew I had to give him a real blow job. I kissed my way down his hairy chest and still padded middle and started licking his cock. 

His dick was on the smaller side, between 4.5 and 5 inches and was the hardest dick I'd ever encountered. I was grateful for his size as I opened my mouth and took that cock in. 

"Yes," he hissed excitedly. 

I rarely suck cock and if I do, it's as a teaser for foreplay. So I'm not an expert, but I must have been better than Mrs. Delahunt. 

"Suck me buddy!" Scott gasped. His fingers were in my hair, on my scalp. Not possessively, but more appreciative. Like he'd forgotten what pleasure like this was like. I was reminding him with steady and faster mouth strokes. 

I backed off a few seconds before he came. I needed this daddy's mouth on my cock before orgasm removed his willingness to suck me. I climbed up and met Scott in another kiss before I pulled back and scooted up to line up my arching, hard prick to his face. 

"Take your time," I urged. Not "please suck me" or "would you blow me too?"

I didn't need the pleasantries. I felt his warm wet tongue lick at my head. Tentative as hell, but it was the kind of tentative fear of not doing it right than not wanting to do it.

"Feels great," I assured him. Now running my fingers through his hair. Appreciative, but definitely possessive. I pushed into his mouth. About three inches. Enough to fill him but not trip any gag reflex. "Just take me, man. Nice shallow strokes... there." I was doing most of the work. Maybe I'd train Scott how to be my cocksucker. The very idea got my balls boiling with my load. 

Even if he wasn't doing the work he was doing his best. Sucking at me, trying to keep his saliva contained while forming a ring around my softly pistoning cock. I was thick as well as long, and I knew I was a lot. But the man was acting like a champ.

"I'm gonna cum in your mouth, Scott," I warned him. Giving him an out. He had three seconds to do something about the situation. He didn't, so like that I was firing off big. A heavy load right into his mouth. I pulled back so he'd get it mostly on his tongue. I thought he'd feel more comfortable swallowing it that way, but mostly I wanted him to taste me. To know what my cum was like. 

I pulled out and felt my prick twitch in the aftershocks. 

The man deserved any release I could give him. I scooted back down to suck him to completion but as I approached his crotch, I smelt that familiar bleachy-floral scent. And felt his hands grip my head to stop me. 

"I... just came," he admitted. 

by Bill Drake

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