Goals

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

[AUSTIN]

It was a shitty week. 

It all started bright and early Monday morning. I had to get back to the suburbs for work, and Scott had to get into the office. I don't know exactly what I expected but Scott was definitely quiet and moody as we quickly got ready. There was no kiss goodbye, no hug even. Just a "see you at the gym" comment from him.

Only I didn't see him at the gym, not Tuesday. He'd sent me a text saying work stuff had come up and he'd have to reschedule. In itself, that wasn't a big deal. Scott Delahunt had prioritized the gym over the last year and a half, but he also had a demanding, important job. This wasn't the first time he couldn't make it.

But instead of his normal apologetic tone at our next meeting, the man was reserved. 

"Everything OK?" I asked as I put on some more weights on the bench. At least Scott was channeling whatever moodiness he had into the lifts... he was on fire that day, actually. I wasn't sure what kind of conversation I was expecting in the gym. But his standoffishness was driving me crazy.

"Yeah," he said, looking at me with slightly wounded eyes. I could tell he wasn't mad at me, but he was really upset about the sex. "Just been busy at work is all."

I'd have to leave it at that. "Well, you're looking really strong in here today."

"Thanks," he muttered. Then got back on the bench for another set. All business.

The kicker for the week was that my dad came to visit Friday. Not me specifically, but he and my stepmom Janet were in Nashville for a weekend on the town. So I went to meet them for dinner. Lots of small talk, lots of Dad's wisecracks about Nashville being "sin city," and the usual blustery questions about when I was gonna get a serious girlfriend. 

I answered as well as I could, but Dad wouldn't let up. "For Chrissake Austin, you're 24."

My stepmom actually came to the rescue. "For goodness sake, Frank, leave the poor boy alone."

I'd held off on any other Friday plans, but Dad and Janet clearly wanted to hit the country bars on their own. As we left the restaurant, Dad stretched out his hand for a handshake. "Good to see you, son." I knew I wouldn't see him again until Christmas.

The whole ride home I was mad at him. Then I was mad at myself for letting him get to me. What did I expect? There's that saying about insanity and expecting different results.

I was mopey when I got home. I cracked open a beer, which I rarely do at home. I wondered why I didn't have the guts to tell Dad that I'm gay. I'd spent my college years very much in the closet and enjoying secret sex with my professor. I loved playing that role for him, the "straight" jock who'd nail his ass at least twice a week. 

Now that I'd moved back to Brentwood, I decided I wouldn't necessarily hide the gay thing but I wouldn't advertise it either. I'm not sure what made me be forthcoming with Scott Delahunt. Maybe I felt I could trust him. Maybe unconsciously I wanted something to happen. I was glad it did, only there was a good chance I'd lost him as a client and more importantly as a friend. Fuck... business and pleasure definitely shouldn't mix.

I picked up my phone. It wasn't too late, and I knew I had to call. Jason was my best friend at UT, a teammate who I felt like I could share anything with. Except one thing...

"Austin!" came his response as he answered, seeing my name on the caller ID. "What's up, man?" We called each other all the time, but not usually at this hour.

"Hi man... listen... I know it's out of the blue to ring you up, but I had something I gotta tell ya."

"Everything OK, Aust'?"

"Yeah, I'm OK. I just... well, I wanted to let you know that I'm gay, Jason," I blurted out. 

There was silence on the other end. Then: "For real?"

My heart pounded. Here was my best bud in the whole world and he still was even after college and me moving to Nashville and him to Atlanta. And I had no idea how he'd take it. He was a typical jock, I guess, and very much a pussy hunter. "For real. Sorry I didn't have the guts to tell you before."

"You know you're my brother, man," he said. "Right?"

I let out a sigh. "Yeah, bro. Thanks."

I could sense an awkward pause on the other end. "Listen, bro... I hate to cut the conversation short, but I'm actually on a date right now."

"Oh fuck!" I blurted. "Sorry, man." I'd been so absorbed in my own drama.

He chuckled. "It's all good," he said. "But we'll catch up this weekend, OK?"

"All right. Sorry again, Jase. Catch ya later.

That conversation was what I needed. I don't know… it cleared the air some. The next morning I decided I needed some relief for my morning wood. As I made my coffee, I fired up one of the apps to see what was on there.

I got a message. "Hi man. You really discreet?"

I typed back. "I always am."

I waited a sec then got another message. "Well, you're really hot."

"Thanks," I replied.

"I bet you get a lot of guys telling you that."

"My fair share," I admitted.

"OK if I share my pics?" His profile was pretty minimal, which itself wasn't a bad thing. Married or unavailable men didn't usually put much on their profiles, so you never knew if you were getting a troll or a stud.

"Yeah, sure," I said. I made it clear it was noncommittal. 

He showed me his pictures. He wasn't Scott Delahunt hot, but I decided not to be picky. I was horny and in the mood to get off. The man seemed like a regular suburban guy in his late 40s. 

"Looks good," I wrote.

"I don't bottom, but I'd love to suck your dick this morning," he wrote.

It was to the point. I often like to chat a good bit with guys, since it helps me suss out if they're on the level and figure out if there's sexual compatibility. Also for me sex is in large part a mental thing, and I love the build up before the act.

That said, I know it's not the etiquette to be too chatty on the apps, and this dude seemed to have a very limited time. He gave off that lying to a wife about making a Home Depot run kind of vibe. I told him to come over.

When he showed up I was a little thrown off guard that he didn't look exactly like his pictures. He had a goatee and was much grayer than his photo. That itself was actually a turn on, but he was also overweight... not fat, but girthy in his jeans and T-shirt. 

"Dang, dude, you're hot," he said as he stepped in. At least his voice was deep and masculine. Then seeing my reaction, he prompted. "Is this gonna work man?"

I could tell he was excited for this, and I relented. "As long as you know how to suck dick," I blustered as I pulled down my shorts and gripped my dick to prime the pump. I hadn't fully lost my erection and was still feeling worked up.

I watched his big body scramble down and get down to service me. This wasn't Married Guy's first cock. He explored me with his tongue for just enough to work me up, then he took me into his mouth. It was a skilled, no-nonsense blow job. Two minutes tops. If that. I looked down and watched that silver-haired head bob up and down. I conjured up a fantasy about my high school math teacher. Then it happened. I came. It felt great. 

Married Guy suckled me and gave a final soft kiss to the head as he pulled off. "Guess you needed that, huh, buddy?" he chuckled. I could tell he was proud he'd gotten me off so quickly.

"Pretty much," I said as I reached down to pull up my shorts. 

He stood up and rearranged the boner in his jeans. "Well hit me up again if you need that bad boy taken care of," he said. He was clearly thrilled at playing with a man on the side. "Can't always get away from the Mrs. but it was worth it today."

"Will do," I said. My demeanor was friendly enough but maybe giving that frosty time-to-go signal. I was a little relieved when he left.

I had gotten my rocks off and that was nice, but I felt the psychological part hadn't been that rewarding. 

But it was like the heavens were going to reward me for the so-so sex and for my unrequited feelings for Scott. My buddy Rick asked me if I wanted to catch the season opener for the Predators at a downtown sports bar. I'm not a big hockey fan, but the Predators had come off a great season and there was a buzz in the city around the team. Scott had actually canceled his Friday morning session at the gym, so I'd have an extra hour before I had to be at work that next morning. 

Rick was a fellow trainer and a couple of his college friends came with us. I was the odd man out not really following the game but it was fun just inhabiting the hightop of that crowded bar and cheering each goal against the Rangers. 

But eventually my eye was drawn to a table of businessmen at the table next to us. Three suit and tie guys, though their jackets were on their chairs and their ties long gone from the day at work or some convention. Given their reaction to the game, they were New Yorkers, or at least Rangers fans.

My attention was drawn to the oldest of the bunch. A sturdy built guy in a regular business man kind of way. Tan lingering from his late summer vacation, brown eyes and thinning silver hair cut almost military short, he had a kind of Jersey/Long Island daddy look that appealed to me. Best of all, his pecs filled out a pale blue dress shirt and his ass looked great in his gray trousers. 

Maybe I was looking over too much because Silver Daddy caught me and gave a knowing smile. Not a flirty smile, but a “yeah, I know you're checking me out” smile. I figure straight dudes in New York are used to getting attention from gay guys all the time. 

I got another pint just as the third period started. Seemed like Silver Daddy was working on another beer, too. I got the feeling they'd started early, because their booming voices just kept getting louder. 

I played it cool, not so much hiding my interest from the man but rather not trying to be obvious around my buddies. But Silver Daddy started slyly looking back to me. The first time he did gave me a boner under the table, and I was half hard for the rest of the game. Playing cat and mouse with our surreptitious eye contact. 

My friends were in a great mood when the game was over, since the Predators won. They tried to convince me to hit one of the more partying country bars on Broadway but I told them I had an early morning and said I'd just hang out at the sports bar and finish my beer. 

I don't know if I expected anything to happen. But when I watched Silver Daddy go to the bar to order another round, I took my chance and stepped up next to him, to order my own drink. 

He flashed me a drunken smile. "Your friends left you," he said. Not quite a slur but he was definitely drunk.

"Yeah," I said. "Fraid so." I replied in a way that suggested I wasn't at all upset by that turn of events. 

"Let me get ya a drink," he said. His accent was New York all right. 

I nodded. "Sure." I told him what I was having. 

Just then one of guys came up and clapped Silver Daddy's shoulder. "Listen, Bob, we're actually gonna call it a night. See you tomorrow."

The man didn't miss a beat. "Yeah, sure, Greg. I might play hooky and skip the first session," Silver Daddy bellowed. 

"I hear ya. I might be in the same boat tomorrow. Why the fuck did I let Connors convince me to do shots? I'm not fucking 22," he growled. 

"Remember... water and aspirin before bed." Silver Daddy said. I couldn't tell if it was a joke or real advice.

The man shook his head. "All right... go easy, man." He clapped Bob's shoulder and then walked off.

"Guess it's just you and me," he smirked.

"Guess so," I said. God, I hadn't really had a situation like this before, but it was fun. 

He leaned in, a naughty look on his face. "My hotel is nearby. Feel like skipping the beers?" 

"Yeah," I said. I was starting to get hard again, but hopefully my boner wouldn't show too much. Up close this man was more solid than he looked from the distance even. 

He winked and patted my shoulder. "Let me pay the tab and I'll get my jacket."

He had a swagger as we left the bar and walked down the street. I kept looking over at him. About 6'1" with very upright posture, almost chest puffing out. He had a prominent nose and forehead, which stuck out more from the receding and thinning hair. If he wasn't so clearly a businessman, I might have placed him as a coach type. I placed him in his  mid 50s, but he'd taken good care of himself.

"I'm Austin, by the way," I said, realizing we hadn't even introduced ourselves.

"Bob," he replied in turn. 

"You in town for business?" I asked. He could have been local, but from his talk at the bar I gathered not.

He looked over at me. "You got it," he blustered. The man had one volume for speaking it seemed. "E-Commerce Convention." He flashed a grin at me. "This was the last thing I expected to happen tonight, I'll tell you."

I smiled back. "Me either," I admitted.

He chuckled. "You do this often?"

"Not enough."

"I hear ya," he said. I could tell he had his hands in his trouser pockets to keep his own boner from being obvious. That thrilled me. "But I figure what happens in Nashville stays in Nashville, right?" The guy liked to talk. "Got a girlfriend or anything?"

I was a little nervous having this conversation so openly on the street, but no one was around to listen or care. I shook my head. "I stick with guys," I replied.

That seemed to surprise him. "Yeah, man? You should come up to New York... give those muscle gays some competition."

This was a man of surprises, but I was happy to go along for the ride. "Is that what you're into?" I asked.

This was the first and only time I saw a flicker of embarrassment on his handsome, middle-aged face. "When I'm in the mood to play that way... yeah, that flicks my switch."

"Just to be clear," I put it out there. "I don't bottom."

He chuckled some as if he found my top assertiveness cute. "All right, stud... I'm sure we can have some fun."

I felt a little bad that this was the hotel Scott and I had stayed in. Different floor, different room, but same look and furnishings... even the view out the window was the same. But Bob was night and day different from Scott. I didn't know his story but he clearly had experience with men. 

"Fuck, you're hot," he growled as the room door clicked. Our bodies met, then we kissed. I loved his energy and his meaty bulk and that suit. It was impetuous and horny, the way we fueled each other's sexual excitement. We ground our crotches into one another and made out in a drunken sloppy kiss. 

And already this Silver Daddy was reaching down to fumble with my jeans, undoing them and reaching in to grip my boner. "Nice one," he growled then stepped back to undo his own belt. Maybe I normally like being top dog, but I had to admit Bob had a nice tool. Long as mine and thicker. It fell out, heavy and then jerked up to a standing position. 

"You suck a guy?" he asked.

"Yeah, sometimes," I replied. I wanted to get a taste. I crouched down and felt that soft wool fabric of his suit then leaned forward. His prick tasted salty and the tip was dewey with precum. I gave him a quick couple of licks then started taking him into my mouth

"Fuck yeah, man." God, I hoped the room had some soundproofing. 

I wasn't a natural or skilled cocksucker, but I settled in to do right by him. Bobbing up and down on his thick tool. Not going deep, because that girth was a lot for me. But I settled into a good rhythm on about 3 and a half inches of his stalk. The brash guy was surprisingly quiet as I fellated him, standing with his legs apart and running his fingers through my hair. 

Maybe it was the alcohol, but he didn't seem in a rush to get off. After a couple of minutes I pulled back and got one more look of his meaty erection before looking up. 
"My turn." It half question, half statement. 

I stood up and kicked off my sneakers. Bob stepped back and removed his suit jacket, hardon still spit wet and sticking out of his fly. He gave me another wink, then turned to take off the rest of his clothes. 

I followed suit and admired the view as I watched this middle-aged stud get onto the bed. He had some padding but some strong muscle, a classic ex-jock build. Blocky pecs, big arms, and a general thickness. He wasn't all that hairy, but his dusting of chest and stomach hair was also graying and I found that hot. There was just some dirty blond in his wiry pubes around that tubesteak. 

I climbed on top of him, meeting him in another kiss and feeling our body contact. Bob got into it, which got me into it. I don't know if he was Scott Delahunt perfect, but in his own way this business guy was hotter. He humped up into me as we made out and his hands were on me. 

"Jesus," he grunted, the loud voice returning. "You're a muscle dude all right," he growled. 

I grinned down on him. I about told him I was a personal trainer, but figured that wasn't important. 

"Figures you'd be a top," he said. Then, "Well, I have a couple condoms in my bag if you wanna get in me."

"Fuck yes," I said, which made Bob laugh. Even with a rubber, I knew I'd enjoy this.

"Just let me sit on it first," he said. "It's been a while."

I agreed and got off him so he could go fetch the rubbers and lube. He hadn't blown me yet, but that was OK. I was rock hard as I lay back against the headboard, while Bob applied some lube to my stalk, then rolled down a condom. He then lubed that. 

His dick was rock hard and he had a lusty look on his face as he straddled me. I watched his chest muscle flex some as he reached down and back to guide my dick into place. His eyes seemed to drink up the sight of my body beneath him. "God, you remind me of a couple of fellas on my son's hockey team."

Good fuck, he was gonna push my buttons big time. I ran my hands along his meaty thighs. "You ever do anything with them?" I asked, my voice cracking in lust. 

He smiled. "One of them, yeah...."

And like that he pushed back. I felt the snugness and then I entered his hot, right rectum. The man let out a hiss and paused, then descended down some. "You're big," he smiled, then with a determined look pushed all the way down. "OH FUCK!" he growled. I was getting into his vocal nature. But equally I was enjoying feeling up his more mature muscle. He was the kind of man who'd be hot to fuck well into his 60s, and that idea excited me perversely. 

It took some restraint not to thrust into him right away, but my prick was rigid and throbbing inside him, having the mental side of the fuck make up for the lack of physical stimulation to my dick. 

But it didn't take him long to relax. And with a steady motion, he rose up and fell down into my lap. Fucking himself on me. I loved watching him. His whole body getting into it as he stroked his cock and rode me. This man loved sex, and had no hangups about bottoming for me. 

It was like he was reading my mind. "You know how to bring out my naughty side, stud," he said. 

I now gave small thrusts up into him, to meet his bouncing. "Like with that hockey player?" I ventured.

He grinned. "Austin... talk about naughty... Mark is my best friend's son."

"Fuck!" I groaned.

"That shit turn you on?" he laughed.

I nodded. "Yeah it does."

He rode me a little faster, though his stroke on his cock kept the same pace. "Mark's fucked me a couple dozen times," he admitted. Maybe he was making it up as sex talk to work me up, but I think he was telling the truth. 

I couldn't help it. I gripped his hips and took charge of the fuck, pushing up into his guts with steady hard strokes. 

"That's it, stud," Bob growled. "Go for it." He reached down and felt up my chest and arms. I didn't know if I was a replacement for some college-aged hockey player, but it was OK if I was. Then he asked, "Wanna switch positions?"

He didn't wait for an answer but simply rose off me and plopped down next to me. Already he was lifting his legs up, giving me room to scoot between them. He was a hunk and a half, not magazine perfect but hotter for it. I placed his calves on my shoulders and pressed forth.

"I want you to cum," I urged as I began fucking him. My voice urgent even if I knew I wasn't going to cum with the rubber. My hips worked him in strong, physical shoves. 

"Yeah," he hissed. Even if the alcohol and maybe his age had kept his trigger at bay, he was getting into it now. His eyes wildly on me and his fist working that thick tool faster. "Harder, stud!" he yelled.

I went for it. Hard and fast. His face went red and he nodded excited.

"Yeah... yeah... oh shit!" 

His cum flew out with a crazy suddenness. He wasn't a big cummer but two heavy ropes flew out onto that meaty chest before his sperm oozed out in dribbles. 

I pulled out and stripped off the condom. It wouldn't take me long to cum now, at all. 

But Bob had different ideas. "Bring it up here," he urged. 

I hadn't ever shot on a guy's face, but the idea seemed hot as hell. I scooted up and fisted my tool an inch away from his handsome business daddy mug. But he batted my hand away and leaned forward. 

I was gonna get my blowjob after all. Bob didn't seem bothered by the lube and the latex taste as he sucked me in and bobbed. 

About five bobs and I blasted hard. The man moaned excitedly as I filled his craw with my fresh sperm. I pulled out so I could see some spray on his chin. I felt I deserved that. 

I was still dribbling in aftershocks even as I sat on the bed next to him. 

He had come down from his orgasm and looked up at me with a smile. "Good for you, I take it?"

I nodded. "More than good," I replied. "I needed a lay like that."

"You caught me in the right mood," he said. 

"Drunk?" I teased.

He laughed. "That helps," he said. "Listen, no pressure... but I'm in town for another day, if you wanna hook up again."

"It would be hard to say no," I said. 

"Is that a no?" he asked, unsure what I meant.

"That's a yes," I clarified. 

He ran his hand up my leg and then nudged his fingers against my genitals, which twitched at the touch. "I just want to take advantage of my free time away, you know?" He looked up from my cock to my face. "You can sleep here if you want."

"I'd have to get up early," I warned him. Even with Scott's cancelled session, I had to be at the gym by 7:30.

"I'll set the alarm... you can get up when you like," he said. He patted my leg once more and got up to go to the bathroom. He pissed and washed off some, I gathered, but when the door opened and he strutted back, naked, his body showing off the tan line from that beach vacation. he had a glass of water and two aspirin, which he popped in his mouth. 

I got up to piss myself and as he watched me pass him, he added, "yeah, you'd give those New York guys a run for the money, all right."

[SCOTT]

"Where's your head, Delahunt?" Rich Kennedy asked after my drive on the 14th hole went wide. Way wide. "That's the third lousy shot today."

"Motherfuck!" I hissed. I was normally a good golfer, and I didn't take a bad day well.

"Oh Scotty's been in a pissy mood for weeks," Dave Feldman chimed in. I was the last of our foursome to tee off, and I think the fellas knew I was gonna slow down our group.

The fourth guy, Ed wisecracked as he looked at his phone. "He's probably checked his retirement account. Another shit day on the market fellas."

That seemed to ease the tension some and as we went on down the fairway, the conversation turned to investments and whether it was time to change the allocation for our nest eggs. It was the kind of conversation we had a lot. 

I had to admit Dave was right. I had been in a bad mood. Ever since that night with Austin. I tried to get him out of my head but that attempt was making me miserable. The one exception was with Kelly. Maybe I was overcompensating but my guilt at cheating on her put me into charm mode with my wife. We'd even had sex a few times lately, which was a nice change and a welcome reminder that my heterosexuality wasn't gone.

Thing was, my bisexuality wasn't either. Sex with Austin had been amazing. I'd still throw hard during the middle of the day, almost every day, thinking back on it. I don't know, something about the combination of hardness and softness, of Austin's innocent charm and his jock masculinity, really turned me on. It was a revelation to me. 

I knew I was playing with fire, even sticking with Austin as my trainer. But I kept my distance. I felt my improved physique was the best change of my life lately. I didn't want to stop that. 

Our Friday training sessions were going as normal. Me focusing on a solid lower body workout and giving it 110 percent. We made some small talk, but kept it light. But for three weeks I'd avoided any talk of the Titans. Today I brought up the football talk. Austin seemed to relax and get into his fantasy team for the week and his plan to watch the game with some of his trainer buddies. I wondered if any of those guys knew Austin was into guys, but I figured younger people aren't as judgmental as people of my generation. 

Whereas my Tuesday or Wednesday sessions were late afternoon, I tended to meet Austin first thing in the morning, so I could get a round of golf in for the afternoon if the weather allowed. 

I'd showered and dressed in my suit for work when I saw Austin waiting outside the locker room. He had an envelope in his hand and a nervous look on his face. 

"I didn't overpay you, did I?" I asked. "I'm hoping to make up that session I missed..."

He shook his head. "No... open it later," he said. "OK?"

"Yeah sure," I said. He gave me a sad nod and went back to a client who was stretching between sets. 

I had a pit of my stomach feel for what was in the envelope. Or at least a ball park idea. As I got into my BMW, I tossed my gym bag on the front seat and nervously opened the letter. The writing was in pen in what I'd describe as a neat scrawl.

"Dear Scott,

Forgive my handwriting. And forgive my writing what I don't have the guts to tell you face to face. 

I want to apologize to you. I crossed a line with you, and I got you to do something you didn't feel comfortable with. I almost expected you to find another trainer, and I wouldn't blame you if you did. 

But I miss our friendship. Maybe that's not respecting a professional line, too, but I consider you a friend first and foremost. We can forget what happened if it would help.

There's some other sappy stuff I wrote but I tore those letters up. This is enough.

your trainer,
Austin"

My heart sank. I thought I'd be strong enough to resist this special young man. But I was pulling out my phone for a quick text. "Read your letter. You have any time to meet this afternoon? In private."

He was the kind of trainer to be focused on his clients, so it wasn't until I got to the office that I saw the text that awaited me. "I have a window between noon and 4." I typed back to see if 12:30 would work. I had a 2PM tee time. He responded back with his address and a question mark. I said yes.

The morning would have felt like torture had my calendar not been full. I'd have to catch up on work tomorrow morning, but it was one of those beautiful October days that was perfect golfing weather, and I wanted to take advantage of it. 

I had to text Austin I was running late, but traffic was OK. He was there, still in his work attired of zip up and trim-cut sweats. God, he looked like a million bucks. Cute yet masculine, his dimples forming as he gave a nervous smile.

"Hey," he said as he ushered me in.

I looked around. It felt like a bachelor's apartment. Clean and basic, not a lot of decoration. "Nice place," I said. 

"Thanks," he said. "Have a seat," he gestured to the couch. 

I sat down, facing him. The ball was in my court. "I know I've been standoffish lately," he started. "Austin... I can't hurt my family."

The younger man grimaced. "I know... I don't want you to, Scott. Seriously."

I felt a little relieved. This was unchartered territory for me. "I wasn't going to tell you... but I enjoyed what we did... a lot."

His eyes perked up. "For real?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "Maybe a little too much."

"Did that freak you out?" he asked. Concerned.

I shook my head. "Not in itself. More about the stepping out on Kelly part. And what it meant for my marriage."

"Oh," he said. 

"Even if things haven't been great with Kelly lately, I'm not going to leave her," I said.

I could read in Austin's quietness he was nervous of saying the wrong thing. But he finally spoke up. “If you wanna fool around, Scott, I’m really discreet, I promise.”

I blushed. “Come on, Austin,” I pleaded. I very much liked the idea of what he was suggesting, and maybe that’s why I was pissed at him for suggesting it.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just had to try.”

“Sorry, Austin,” I said softly. I felt so many mixed emotions then. And yeah, I wanted him again. Wanted to feel more what sex was like with this stud. Instead, I stood up. “I better go,” I said.

He nodded. He stood up and walked me to the door. “Let me know if you’d like help finding another trainer,” he said with resignation.

I knew he was giving me an out. For some reason I couldn’t bring myself to take it. “I don’t want another trainer, Austin,” I said, frustration in my voice. “You’re good at what you do. I just need some boundaries.”

“I get it, Scott,” he said. “See you at the gym.”

I was actually hyperventilating when I get to my car. I didn’t start it right away though. Instead, I thought about what would happen if I’d let the conversation go the other way. “Fuck!” I grunted aloud to myself, then opened the car door.

Austin was surprised as hell when he answered the door and saw me there. I gathered my courage while I had it and stepped inside, shutting the door and then turning to him. ‘

“God,” he hissed, so turned on now that he realized what was going on. We met in a kiss, more heated than the one in the hotel room. It was like the several weeks had led to the pent-up lust that came pouring out. My first time with Austin had felt strange and unfamiliar, and in a way I was glad to have that behind me.

I got down in front of him, crouching right there. He was hard for me already, fully hard, and I could see that thick tool riding up into a tent of his sweats. He helped me pull off his sweats and with a goofy grin he hooked his thumbs in his waistband to pull it over his dong. 

"I didn't get a look the last time," I said then looked up into his eyes. "I didn't think I'd get into a guy's dick like this."

"But you do...?" Austin clarified. 

"Maybe because of the fine man it's attached to... but yeah." I looked at his cock again, thrilled to see it firm and pointing straight up. He wasn't giant but he was hung, and there was just something so beautiful about his erection. I looked back up into his face, where I saw happiness, excitement and thrill.

My hand touched his hard quad muscle and that’s all the signal he needed. He lined up his prick to my lips. "I’ve been thinking about this a lot, Mr. D," he whispered hoarsely.

I had been thinking a lot about this too. “Will sex get in the way of the friendship thing?" I asked. 

He shook his head. "Fuck no, Scott." Then. “Come on, pretty please, man. Suck me.”

I breathed in his scent, then leaned in. "Ohhh," he grunted as I began sucking him. 

I didn't know what I was doing last time. I still didn't. But I knew I was better at this, and I could read in Austin's voice and body that he was crazy turned on. I was learning my suit was part of the thrill for him and the whole "exec" type I represented to him. 

I pulled off and enjoyed the sight of his engorged cock, twitching and wet with my spit. Not far from shooting.

"When you feel ready, just come in my mouth, OK?" I asked. 

He nodded like he couldn't believe what was happening. That made me want to give it my all. I took about four inches into my mouth, making it five as I bobbed up and down furiously. My gag reflex didn't kick in, which I was grateful for. I'd missed this, missed the feel and act of a cock in my mouth. Missed making another man cum.

Austin's load was big. It took me by surprise and I coughed a little before I remembered what he did last time. I pulled back so the prick head spurted on my tongue. I don't know if that felt best for Austin, but I decided I loved that part. I tasted and swallowed him, in a couple of rounds, till the poor guy was spent. 

"Let me do you," he urged. 

I was horny but self conscious. I unzipped my suit as Austin got between my legs, running his hands along the fabric. "I'm not hung you like I'm afraid."

"I love your cock," he said. Then looking up in my eyes, he added. "For real, Scott. Everything about you turns me on." He leaned in for a kiss and I met him. A part of me wanted to avoid the kissing thing but I decided oral sex was a bigger issue. Besides, I wanted this. I kissed Austin back. 

His soft kiss, full of gentle tongue, got me rock hard and leaking. He smirked as he pulled back and saw my dick poking up hard out of the open fly. "You're hard as steel," he said. "I love it."

I watched as he got down and started going down on me. I guess I didn't have a lot of length, and Austin managed to work the whole length with lots of spit and lots of suction. Kelly very occasionally gave me head, but it was nothing like this. 

"Buddy!" I gasped. Warning him.

He moaned around my cock. This was the first time I'd blasted in another man's mouth since college. But this was night and day different. This was Austin.

He was more talkative after we uncoupled. "Damn, that was incredible," Austin laughed. I realized I missed his laugh and his smile. I missed laidback, happy Austin. 
 

He made himself presentable again and offered me something to drink. I took some water. 

"Trust me, Scott," he assured me. "I'm not going to do anything to mess up anything for you at home. But I'm so fucking grateful for that."

"I'm glad," I said. "I've been thinking about the sex for the last three weeks."

"I wasn't sure..." he said. He looked at his watch. "Listen, you're gonna be late for the club. And I probably need a nap before my evening sessions."

I stood up. I found getting off had eased my mood, and I was still processing how good Austin's blowjob had felt. "I'm being greedy," I said. "But maybe I can get away sometime this weekend. That is, if you wanna?"

"Hell yeah, I wanna," he said softly. And with a new confidence he stepped up to me to kiss me. He ran his hands up along the lapels of my coat. “And maybe you can wear your suit for me again sometime.”