Hi, I'm Greg, 5'11". I haven't really done any exercise since high school, and working from home or in the office, I had become flabby. I hated myself when I looked in the mirror and dreaded getting on the scales. What set the alarm bells ringing was a trip to the doctor. She checked my body/mass index and warned me I was getting close to being pre-diabetic. She told me I had to lose weight, and suggested I joined a gym.
I thought about it, and even visited one to have a look, but the Muscle Marys and fitties put me off. I realized I had to get fitter before I could use a gym. I took up jogging, by myself initially, but soon faltered. It was too cold, raining, too hot, any excuse, so I joined a running club. They met Wednesday evenings and Sunday mornings. For the first few weeks, I could barely keep up, puffing and panting, I never made the finish. The fear of being on medication for life drove me on. I changed my diet, and slowly the weight came off. I found the modern Lycra shorts uncomfortable, and it was embarrassing showing off my junk, so I went online and bought 80s style running shorts, bright yellow, with splits up the sides. To make them more comfortable, I removed the inner lining.
About a dozen of us were out running in the rain one evening, when I slipped on some leaves and twisted my ankle. The guy next to me, Leon, helped me to my feet, but it was clear I couldn't carry on. Luckily, we were near his flat, so, with an arm round his shoulder, we went to his place so he could bandage me up. I lay on his sofa and he eased my trainers and socks off. My ankle was bruised, so he put a bag of frozen peas on it. He sat on the floor beside the sofa, gently stroking my leg. My penis, which has a mind of its own, stirred. I pretended not to notice, but he did. His soft hand went higher and I let out a moan. I thought, this shouldn't be happening, but I was knackered, and it was too nice to resist. His hand started to touch the bottom of my ball sack. My erection tented the loose shorts. I offered no resistance as he pulled my cock out of a leg hole. It was the first time another man had touched me, but his fingers gently stroking me felt wonderful. I closed my eyes and let him do what he wanted. Then I felt his tongue on my shaft, barely touching it. He enveloped the crown, expertly giving me head, something no girlfriend had ever done. I eased my bum up and he slid my shorts down to my knees. Cupping my balls, he went back to sucking me, stopping now and then to lick my inner thighs and swallow a testicle. I wouldn't last much longer, but he didn't rush things. He'd played with me for over half an hour before I finally spilt my seed, more than I had in a long time. He then kissed me. I'd never kissed another man, but it felt so natural, and I tasted my own juices. He lay back on the carpet, and I watched as he tossed himself. It took me back to school days, when a few of us used to jerk off together, After he'd cleaned himself up, he said sorry, but I told him it was wonderful. He rubbed ibuprofen gel into my ankle, bandaged it up, and gave me a couple of pain killers. He suggested I stay the night and fetched a duvet and pillow. I thanked him for his kindness. We kissed and he went to bed.
Next morning, he helped me to the bathroom and gave me a towel and a spare toothbrush. The ankle was still swollen, but not as painful. He suggested I used his laptop for work, and told me to help myself to tea and coffee. We kissed and he left for work. At my first zoom meeting, I explained the reason for my attire and said I'd do the best I could.
That evening, he brought a Chinese in. We watched TV and drank wine. I was moving much freer. That night we shared a bed. Naked together, we kissed and hands roamed over each other's bodies. It seemed the most natural thing in the world. I stroked his velvety cock, and with a little encouragement, gave him head. It came instinctively, and after a few minutes, tasted another man's semen. He gave me another orgasm and we slept cuddled together.
I was able to return home next morning, but not before getting another blow job. During the week, I dropped some work clothes and a wash bag at his place. The midweek and Sunday runs ended at his flat. We would shower together, soaping one another. We were in the shower one Sunday morning, both sporting erections. I soaped his back, running my fingers into his crack. "Oh God, that's nice", he murmured. my finger found his hole and he pushed back and forth. I put another one in and his legs slightly buckled. "Fuck me", he pleaded. I lined my cock up and was surprised how easily it slipped in. He supported himself with one hand on the glass, I held his hips and began to thrust. He used his other hand to wank. I hadn't fucked in months, and then it was with a hooker and a condom. This was so much better. We fell into a rhythm, the speed ever increasing, until I blew my load. Ribbons of his spunk ran away with the water. I've lost nearly two stone and Sundays will never be the same.
