It was the second time I’d seen him in the country club gym. He was not easy to miss the first time; and when he’d surreptitiously complimented my dick in the locker room later that first time his smirk stayed with me as much as his chiseled body. Today I was about to head to the shower when he entered; he still had the smirk. Difference today was we were alone.
It was after the morning rush and before the later-morning mostly older guys did their toned-down work-outs. Kent again had an early long call with his client in Galway, Daniel had a breakfast meeting with his new boss, and I had a tennis date at 09:30. I’d come to the gym on my own planning to work-out then shower before my tennis match.
Despite the solitude in the locker room the hot guy didn’t speak even in that low but clear voice he’d nearly whispered the first time. He just smirked and winked as he began to undress and gave my hanging chubbing dick an overt stare when I passed heading to the showers. Beautifully built in that non-gym natural way that athletes and construction workers have, tall, handsome, clothes he was pulling off revealing rippling those taut muscles, and hairy; at least ten years younger maybe Kent’s or Daniel’s age. I knew he looked even better fully out of his clothes from the first time.
I was to play tennis with the runner-up to this year’s summer club tournament winner; I was that winner. So I forced my head back into the match ahead as I entered the stall and turned on the water. I’d just pumped my hand full of soap when the stall door opened taking me completely by surprise; that amazing body stepped in and closed the glass door behind him before I could protest. Would I have? We’ll never know. Because as the latch clicked he fell to his knees and inhaled my dick; and I momentarily lost the skill of speech.
The chub returned with all the speed the blood racing in my arteries could forcefully pump into my dick. And his tongue-work, mouth, and lips were so aggressive and skillful all I could do was to take a stumbling step back until my back was against the wall and my hands were on his head to steady myself.
His hands were on my ass pulling me closer jamming his nose and skull into my bush. He was determined and diligent; he was also intent on making me want it bad. He had my heart rate back up and took me to the edge in minutes; no small feat for me. Then he backed-off, licked and sucked my balls, and manhandled me around and ate my sweaty cum-filled hole. Yes Kent had done his husbandly duty what seemed like a very long time ago while the nameless stud sucked my ass; my home sex was really less than two hours before. Not that it was germaine but I’d filled Daniel too during that same session and Kent had hungrily sucked Daniel’s load he shot while I railed him.
The cock-sucking stud left my hole, shoved me around, and returned to my throbbing dick four times; each time having me near shooting. When he went for another ‘round-the-world I clamped my hands on his head and prevented him from edging me back that time; I forced myself fully into his throat. While I had hold of him and forced him to continue it was a brief moment afterward that he blew his load all over my ankles and feet; I felt his body convulse with his pumps as I closed-in on my own release.
A couple of minutes of forceful face-fucking and I gasped dangerously louder than the shower spray and dumped what felt like gallons into his throat and mouth while he gripped my balls tight; if he knew that would make me cum harder or if he thought it would get me to back-off I have no clue. He didn’t pull away but his body told me he needed air and I finally pulled back and let him gasp for it red-faced but obviously far from unhappy about the outcome.
He surprised me when he didn’t take any time to recover; he rose and left the stall hurriedly. I on the other hand stayed slumped against the tile wall for a while with the hot water heating on me before I once again pumped my palm full of soap and began to clean myself. I was too worked-up and cranked the knob to icy cold to get my head back in the game to come.
I wish I could say I trounced my rival on the court; I won but barely. We each took a set ending in a tie-break and then I won the last seven-five; barely. When the phrase “left it all on the court” comes to mind think a fifty-six-year-old man dripping sweat, gasping for breath, barely able to stay standing, and feeling like I might never recover; that was me as we shook hands and Jeremy Renton jogged off in far better condition if not in high spirits after losing.
I’d been playing well over two and a half hours as I dragged myself back to the club-house and down to the lockers. I needed a shower more than I’d needed one after my work-out before the match. Ohhhhh right Sherbourne! Rookie mistake thinking at my age I could do a full work-out and then play an outstanding player in the courts. When the golf pro happened through on his way to the restroom and clapped me on my sweaty shoulder and asked me if I was okay I was apparently not quite convincing. When I was still in the same spot slumped on a bench facing my locker he offered to run me home in a cart and I accepted. Thirty at most and could do a full five sets after eighteen holes I was certain; taking pity on a guy probably older than his father.
By the few minutes later when I walked in and was assaulted with exuberant puppy hellos from Nigel Kent was leaving the kitchen. He grinned and kissed me hello dodging the jumping pup and returned to his study with no more than a glance at me in my sweaty tennis clothes and without asking why I hadn’t cleaned-up after the match as I usually do.
I grabbed a bottle of water, took Nigel out, grabbed another bottle when we came back after I gave Nigel his good-boy biscuit, and then followed Kent in.
Kent has a favorite leather club chair set in his study; in mine I have a suede recliner in the corner and a set of more office-like chairs facing my desk. Despite my sweat-drenched tennis whites and bare legs and arms I flopped into one of his chairs and told him about my unknown cock-sucker and the shower blow-job. He was rubbing his emerging hard-on when I finished. “But did you win against that sanctimonious prick Renton?” he asked expectantly. I told him I had and before I could emphasize that I only won barely he cut me off. “Get that sweaty winner ass in the air. Now!”
As suddenly as his command was issued my body’s exhaustion was forgotten and I was leaning over the seat of the chair I’d been in with my elbows braced on the arms. Kent dove in face first and feasted on my sweaty hole for what seemed like far too long.
“Will ya for Christ’s sake fuck my ass?!” I begged.
We make it a practice to deny each other nothing and thus Kent entered me roughly enough to make me yelp loud enough that Nigel came running to see what was happening. Fortunately he’d learned that what we were doing was a) okay; and b) nothing that concerns puppies. He left and Kent continued his assault on my ass without interruption.
“My sexy fuckin’ stud husband can’t be in a locker room without some simpering sucker falling to his knees for his big manly cock and thick seed before he trounces a tennis stud! Wonder what either of them would think if they saw you bitched-out for MY cock.”
“Fuck yeah! I AM a bitch for your humongous cock hon. I wish they could see me. Fuck me hard and deep; use your husband’s hole!” I cried amid gasps and moans.
When he slapped my ass hard I yelped again. “This is MY hole!” he snarled and pounded me harder. The sounds of his thighs and crotch slapping into my butt was deafening but quiet compared to his declaration.
“Yes sir; it’s your hole!” I corrected myself.
“And if I want to give the shower cock-sucker or that pussy douchebag wanna-be Renton a turn on this hole you’ll take them! It’s MY hole to give!!!” His fucking was as viscous as his declaration.
My yelp when he cracked his palm on my ass that time was nearly a scream it was so hard. “Fuck yes!” I forced myself to say. “Just fuckin’ ram me full of you again.” Without forcing myself I heard myself pleading, “Fill me with more of your DNA!” I demanded.
“FUCK!” my husband howled at the ceiling. “I’m gonna; and soon! HOW do you keep this cunt so fuckin’ tight?” he asked and pounded me with even more force and made the big heavy chair creak.
I used all my might to clench hard on him as he pulled out on the next stroke and he moaned louder, “FUUUUUUCK Al! God YES!”
I milked his gargantuan prick with every bit of my strength and muscle control; which is a lot. Clenching my inner muscles and feeling the tell-tale thickening and impossible hardening of him inside me felt like some weird trick of inflation I’d caused from my rhythmic clenching. And I suppose I had!
Kent’s slams into me became unsteady and his moans and cries became uneven. As he wobbled and began shaking he jabbed my pleasure point just right to send sparks through my awareness. I felt my body burst into another dimension and I heard Kent moan long and low as he jabbed me a few more times and then buried himself in me with a long low gutteral growl. I sprayed my seed wildly as I felt the log-sized dick inside me throb and spurt me full again.
We both came down very slowly from the high; both of us in a heap, Kent’s study reeking of man and sex, bodies panting. Kent’s head was hanging limp beside mine against the back of the wing chair. He slowly turned, found my lips, and kissed me almost chastely. “Have I told you … lately … that … I fuckin’ love you Mister Sherbourne?” he got out with a struggle.
I turned enough to more directly meet his mouth and kissed him hungrily until we were both panting harder. “Never enough Mister Sherbourne,” I answered.
My watch went off with an alarm; five minutes until a zoom call about my new consulting gig. How the fuck was I going to concentrate on that call after the morning I’d had? We carefully untangled and I got to my feet as he was standing tall again
“Al?” Kent said very seriously with his eyes boring into mine. He gently held the side of my face with his thumb caressing my jaw lightly.
“Kent?” I murmured worried my knees might collapse as I gazed into my husband’s beautiful blue eyes.
He took a moment and just held the stare with a softening intensity. “I love you,” he said finally. And then he bent and licked a long slow swipe up my cum-splashed chest. “Always,” he said very breathy and smacking his lips as he moved in and met mine hungrily.
There was a very good chance I’d be late for my call.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
