Another slut drains me
I’d had a long day notwithstanding the early stairwell fuck. I’d spent hours with Bo in his hospital room, had lunch with my son and grandson, back to the hospital, then took a much needed gym break before going back to Bo’s opulent apartment to make a choice from Uber Eats.
Bo’s keys had a fob for the elite gym he paid a fortune for that I headed to. My plan was simple; get a good workout in, enjoy whatever amenities caught my fancy, and then be at the condo about a half-hour before the time I’d arrived and run into the hunky sweaty stud coming up from the building gym the night before. I’d “check it out” on the “way back from the gym so if it was an alternative I can stay closer to home the next day.” I’d see the hunk, he’d cruise me again, and I’d have a before-late-dinner snack and unloading!
Bo’s gym was for sure a cut above; I’d been to Lifetime in Middletown before as a guest; it’s nice to have rich friends. The members working out looked like a higher class even though this was basically our neighborhood when we lived in Jersey. I’ll say I got in a great workout; I needed it.
As I was nearing the end of my legs circuit a young mook-type cruised me. No he didn’t! YES he most certainly did! my brain and balls argued. Fuck I was horny after a long day!
I signaled him and mouthed “one more” and went back at the abductor. He gave me a quick and subtle prod to make it quick by running a thick tongue across his upper lip and adjusting his packed crotch. Where the fuck was this going? Was I ready for this muscle-stud to ball my brains out. Uh … yeah! my aching balls urged.
I could wait for 4D’s response and have him another day; this sure seemed like a sure thing. The good news was if he didn’t have lube I was sweaty enough he’d slip and slide right up my needy ass.
He was standing closer and he looked like he was on his phone screen when I finished wiping down the machine. But when I looked up again our eyes met and he gave a quick head flick toward the locker room.
My dick had gotten interested before the last set; now the blood was surging into it and my workout shorts were obscenely distended. I awkwardly tried to make it look natural having my sopping sweaty gym towel in front of it.
I don’t know what I expected when we got to the locker room; a conversation to make arrangements most likely. But he continued through and then past the urinals and right into a stall. With a guilty look around and seeing nobody pissing or looking that way I followed him into the handicap stall.
My dick was really throbbing from the filthy excitement of it. And when I turned at the end of the long walk to step into the stall he was on his knees! I stopped short and he urged me in. “Come on man!” I got my feet moving again and after two steps I was close enough for him to reach out and grab the waist of my workout shorts and pull me to him. He shoved his face into my crotch and inhaled deeply.
Fuck I was so fuckin’ horny a bit more of his handsome swarthy face rubbing my dick and balls and I’d have cum in my gym clothes. As he pulled the waist-band out and wrestled my big hard-on out I realized I hadn’t let my husband know I was availing myself of the local talent. “Mind if I take a photo?” I asked.
“Hot! Film it and post it and out me!” he urged.
I struggled to get the stall door locked behind me first while he had my body in his hold by one hand on my hip and the other on my jock strap. “Fuuuuuuuck! Niiiiiiiiiiiice!” he hissed as as my dick flopped and heavily hit his face. He took a big lick of my throbbing head after pulling it out the side of my jock strap pouch and gave me another vote of appreciation.
I slapped the stall wall with my free hand as I grabbed the top of it to steady myself; his tongue sent a bolt of electricity through me. Another jolt when he swallowed me whole; not without a bit of difficulty but to my bush ultimately.
I’d got the shot mid-way and had fumbled my way to sending it to our group text Kent, Daniel, and me. I hissed that time when my groin felt his nose grinding deep and his throat tight around my bulging knob. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!”
But that wasn’t the agenda. This big bro-type Italian-looking mook with the shoulders for days and furry slab pecs and arms that looked like he had softballs under his upper arm skin and melons under his shoulders was moaning and grunting and fast-sucking my hard-on like a pro on a twenty-minute trick. I got first one ping and then another but was in the moment and didn’t look at my men’s messages. When he grabbed my balls and tested the waters with increasing pressure I used a second arm to steady myself and gripped the side metal divider; I’d laid my phone on the toilet paper roll box. As he increased the pressure I gripped harder and moaned; he got the message and contrary to my recent doctor’s orders when I had a tangle in the tube to one of my balls I let him really work-over my sac and its contents to my utter delight.
A fleeting moment of compassion for my one-balled buddy Bo back at Trinitas passed through my brain; but like a lob my balls directed my brain to smash that to the baseline!
The anonymous gym-going cock-sucker would alternate long periods of aggressive dick-swallowing with rubbing his face on and sucking and slathering my balls with his spit. And when he had me in his throat his tongue-work was nearly frenetic and sometimes he could tickle my balls before he gagged.I went to a two-handed grip on his head as I pounded the home stretch into his skull. He increased his grip pressure in my balls as they tried to pull-up and I had sensations of my balls boiling over with readiness.
I had to really work to not shout when I finally felt the ignition and blast-off. “Ummmm nnnnng!” he grunted as blasting after blasting of my nut drenched his throat.
At a point he gagged and phlegm and cum gushed from his slack jaw and down his tight sweaty shirt where his huge pecs surged forth; the froth and goo was plainly obvious what it was. He looked up at me as my final blasts (what felt like the hundredth but really was the seventh and eighth maybe ninth) splatted onto his tough but handsome face and blotched his olive skin. He absently swiped his hand over the mess on his shirt and then took his sweat towel and swiped his face as he rose to his feet. He smiled for the first time and gave my dripping dick a squeeze and then my balls another before he abruptly opened the stall door and was quickly gone.
I was relieved and stunned all at once. I pushed the stall door shut and latched it to give myself a moment. I remembered my phone and checked. “Handsome cocksucker for my handsome hung husband. I love you and wish it was me. ❤️❤️❤️” from Kent.
Daniel’s was more to the point. “That’s now; this is when you get home.” A photo of his amazing ass and gaping dripping hole followed. I texted back to the group. “Over too soon,” and shot a pic of my sagging slick dripping dick.
Daniel: “You right needed that!”
Kent: “Find yourself some more that scratches your itch.” He knew me; as much as I missed my men my needs were allayed but not met.
I stepped carefully around the puddle of gagged-up goo and left the stall myself. I know I should have cleaned that puddle but I also knew there was a chance some horny gym dude might be inspired by it. My version of paying it forward. I chuckled and smiled as I walked.
I texted Bo when I was sitting in his fancy car with the heater blasting despite my sweat still running; I had the towel I’d brought for the shower on his fancy Italian leather seats under my sweaty ass. “I like your gym 🍆💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦”
Bo texted back immediately and I delayed my drive as the dots flashed until his message came through. “Glad one of us is getting some. Course for me I’ll be lucky to get this much out if anything now. 💦 🥲”
“Think of it this way,” I Siri’d. “It’s god’s way of reducing the chances that you’ll knock one of your young sluts up and be a senior father again.” Before I sent I corrected slut to women; he actually did “date” women of some repute other than ill.
“I’m here; it’s gone! I win!!!” he texted back. Then, “So you still gonna go stalk Layne from 4D at Shoreside?” He’d figured out who the hunky neighbor was who’d cruised me in the elevator when I’d indiscreetly told him the condo unit number. “You got any left in the tanks or do you need a day or two to reload old man?” Things were good when he teased me about the one hundred ten days that separated us in age.
“You bet your left nut! Oh wait … 😳“ I sent back.
”Asshole!” he shot back before I could add, “Too soon?”
“With luck!” I shot back.
“Dude!” he shot back.
I laughed and fully noticed that the car was warm despite the fifty degree freeze outside. I used to live in this, I thought and didn’t miss all the years I’d froze my balls off in fall, winter, and spring.
Oooops! I reproached myself on Bo’s behalf and decided not to send that observation to my best friend.
As horny as I was the stall action I had wasn’t nearly enough. Yeah that condo hunk’s sweaty bubble butt was definitely on the menu as I took the stairs from the parking garage to the mezzanine floor where the surprisingly big and nice gym was.
Layne “I can’t remember his first name; his mommy bought him the small one-bedroom unit probably as a reward for not getting arrested giving up his ass in campus men’s rooms” was there when I “dropped in.” I was still sweaty myself from a hard workout and post-workout/post-cum endorphins. And so was he; sweatier than yesterday in his own sopping muscle shirt (his an expensive Under Armour that was form-fitting; mine a sleeves-cut-off Hanes that clung to me only hecause of my sweat) and similarly-fitted compression shorts that went near his knees like bike shorts and had a delicious sweat mark in the prominent crack between those globular bubble butt-cheeks.
Yeah I might need to be pounded but my attention being drawn to a hot sweaty ass encouraged my dick to hopefulness. That he was doing squats and dripping sweat off his curly black hair didn’t do anything to stop my surging blood-flow and tightening shorts.
He saw me in the mirror and for a couple of reps forced his gaze away from himself. I walked toward him and he went back to admiring himself. Before I got there he re-racked … and peeled his dripping shirt completely off and wiped his sopping brow. Yeah I noticed his gym towel by his water bottle but didn’t remind him he could have left his shirt on.
I ogled his thick mat of chest hair. His sweat was every bit as powerful and intoxicating as it had been in the elevator the night before. This time I’d been huffing that as I got a flash of his thick dripping sweaty pit hair and my dick was throbbing.
“Hey man. Got your number,” he said chest heaving, “when I got in after work but was on the clock to get here. Was gonna text you after I was done. I’m Tom if you don’t remember from last night.”
Too many fucking words Tom! Just bend the fuck over and let me at that sweat-lubed hole! I thought. Outwardly I barely managed to get my thoughts into English and avoid oinking from my piggish thoughts.
“Hey Tom. And you know I’m Al.” We shook hands; his was surprisingly less powerful a shake than I’d anticipated. Damn I hope this stud doesn’t turn out to be a bitch when it’s time for him to fuck back! There went my oinking again!
“You have much more?” I asked and very obviously grabbed my bulging crotch. He took a moment to enjoy my self-grab then returned his eyes to mine grinning. “One more set of fifteen,” he grinned as he put two more twenty-fives on the bar. “Gotta keep this booty prime. Spot me?” It sounded more like ‘fuck me’ than spot me the way he said it; and he was using the solo squat rack that the bar was never more than a wrist-flick turn from racking. But sure; I’d play along.
“My pleasure,” I said in the same suggestive way he’d asked me to spot him. My grin was matched and he assumed the position again. I stepped up behind him and let my bulging crotch nudge his crack leaning back a little so that’s all the contact we had; him being an inch or two taller made my shaft against and my dick-knob still a ways above his hole so I dipped my knees a notch, found my target, and pushed more.
“Fuuuuuuck!” he groaned and his eyes burned into mine behind him in the mirror. “I may not make fifteen.”
I was thinking the same fuuuuuck when I inhaled deeper in that closeness. He was all manly sweat squashing something like Irish Spring from a much-earlier shower. Fuuuuuuck!
“That’s an aggressive set for a second … ”
“Fourth!” he interjected almost indignantly. Well fuck then you’ve done enough and need to GET ON my dick NOW! I thought. Instead I told him, “But here’s the challenge. You do twenty-one and you do whatever you want to me instead of my choice.“
”That’s basically two sets. Not that I think I can do that many at this weight but if I do can you go twice too?” I didn’t correct his math; fifteen to twenty-one would have made one point four. I stifled a laugh thinking that was probably exactly what would happen at my age; one and an embarrassingly unfinished second attempt! And I didn’t tell him I picked twenty-one to match my length in centimeters; though he might have already known based on our joining and just didn’t correlate the numbers.
I gave him a hips-thrust into his hot wet crack again; the moisture had seeped into my shorts and jockstrap which had been gooey already. “As horny as I am right now I might go way past your limit to take it,” I trash-talked him with my voice so low it was vibrating.
I kept the trash-talk going too. I followed him down on his first squat and somehow maintained contact despite my unvaunted skills of coordination. “This will be so much better when I’ve got my eight inches buried in your gut!”
He maintained equal pressure back despite maintaining decent form; impressive. “I worked my way through college and grad school giving lap dances in a tacky joint on route nine,” he said when he was lower than I could go and we’d momentarily broken our bond. “I can do eight,” he assured me.
“Then I have a lot to look forward to,” I told him as he began to rise and I locked-in again.
At the apex he said with a snarky look at me in the mirror, “Careful; I had a rep of getting my guys to blow off fast.”
“Age has its advantages,” I told this stud twenty or so years my junior. I didn’t manage my earlier pressure valve release.
By sixteen he was clearly not going to fulfill the raise I’d challenged him with. His sweat was running down his furred torso and was delightfully pungent despite signaling our return to the basic proposition. And he was struggling to maintain form.
We’d ended-up the only two in the room after the also-shirtless runner on the treadmill and his apparent partner or wife on the elliptical had left at about rep three. Our dirty-talk escalated and our volume went to normal in the empty gym. But as his breathing became more labored and his words came harder it was mostly me. “Come on! One more!!! You think you’ve got me there yet? Get down on my hard pole all the way one more time!”
At eighteen he needed help coming up; not a gentle touch under his triceps for encouragement but a real assist to not rack the bar at midget height. We racked the bar and he slumped forward and panted hanging onto it. Sweat ran off his dangling curls and his face was as red as I hoped my crotch and thighs slapping his glutes would make them.
“DUDE!” he panted.
“That’s SIR to you quitter!”
“Fuck … yeah … “ he panted. I glared at him in the mirror until he added, “Sir.”
He reached for his towel to wipe down but I took his arm and raised it and went into his drenched pit. “Oh my … !” he cried and then sucked in another breath.
Not a hint of anything but that faint residual of soap and MAN! I made a feast of it since we were alone. And then I took the other one and took my time with it. When I’d finally had enough that my dick couldn’t wait any longer I licked up his shoulder and neck and pushed him away startling him. “Come on!”
“I don’t fuck bare,” he said as casually as if he was saying, “Slow elevator.”
I didn’t react. “I’m clean and staying that way. I don’t swallow or eat ass either.”
The elevator opened and we boarded. I still didn’t react.
“And I’m not all that into dirty; I like my tops showered.”
Death knell; he didn’t know it. “Anything else?” I asked as the elevator rose. He did have another couple of surprising limits; I mean what else was there? I found out.
When the elevator dinged at his floor I reached over and pressed mine. “Wha … ?” he started to ask as the door opened.
I cut him off. “Go. I don’t do limits.” I gave him a gentle nudge to step off. He did step off and looked back dazed. As the doors started closing I added, “You have my number if you change your mind.”
He texted me four times that night; the first was before I’d dropped my gym bag inside Bo’s apartment. This time my balls didn’t make the decision despite their pulsing shade of blue.
I went straight through to my guest suite and took a long shower in Bo’s many-headed wet room and barely had the energy to towel off. I Siri-called my men and told them a quick how much I missed them, how much my dick missed them, and good-night. And when I ended the call my last thought was for my needy demanding dick — or from my demanding dick — I need to FUCK!!! Tomorrow I promise!
Fortunately my empty stomach wasn’t as demanding and sleep came quickly.
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