The Personal Trainer

Norman scratched his head, aware of his thinning hair, as he scrolled down the profiles on his laptop. He wasn’t sure about this yet, but it was worth a try.

Approaching 36 years old, Norman was still confused about himself. He really couldn’t explain what was going on with him. At work, as a chief accountant, he was good, more than good actually. His smartness was fear in the hearts of those working under him. All it took was a glare through his round-rimmed glasses to make them shiver. But that was not really what he thought of himself.

Up till now, Norman had been celibate. Living alone in his rather small but very functional apartment, he kept to himself, not that he was unpopular, but rather because his inability to decipher his feelings towards others, outside of work, of course.

He couldn’t build any meaningful relationships with the females he had met. He wasn’t interested enough. As a matter of fact, Norman detested the idea of giving up his independence for another person. Lately, though, he noticed that he was losing his fit shape. He had joined a gym, but it didn’t help much because he had no idea what exercises to do, other than the treadmill, to tone up his body.

He glanced down his belly, flabby. He hated the way it looked. It had been a couple of weeks ago when he watched a young guy spotting an older man in the gym that the idea came to him as he puffed on the treadmill.

Norman heaved, got up to make some coffee, speculating about this idea of his. He needed a personal trainer. Yes. Someone who would help him get back to his earlier fitness, but who would not demand any commitment other than financial. But he couldn’t make up his mind as he ran the profile pictures he had located in his mind.

Coffee steaming, Norman walked back, barefoot, in boxers shorts, and started at the profiles again. He thought that one of the trainers looked professional. Broad shoulders, thick chest, protruding neck muscles, ball-sized biceps. However, three profiles down, he spotted another: youngish face, not so muscled but appearing quite fit. He scrolled back up to Muscle Guy, then back down to Young Guy.

Norman shivered and sighed. He felt himself getting excited, not only about the profile pictures but more because he was seriously considering this personal trainer business. He rubbed his bulging crotch, and quickly surfed for porn, jacked off to a huge black dick splitting a melon-sized pair of ass cheeks and drilling into a tight anus. He cummed hard.

Finally, after so much hesitation, Muscle Guy was Norman’s choice. He called and set up an appointment for the  following evening. He had no idea how much it was going to cost him or how it was going to be done. But he was a smart guy, wasn’t he? He surely could work it out. But how would he receive the PT? In shorts and bare torso? In sweats? In his regular work clothes? Fuck, what a dilemma! He finally decided on a pair of loose sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Muscle Guy appeared at the right time. Good point. Letting him in, Norman’s first impression was: Damn, the guy is intimidating. Asking Muscle Guy to take the couch, he dragged a chair from the kitchen table and sat facing him.

“I take it that you know what should be done,” Norman started, unsure whether this was the proper way.

“Stand up,” MG said, his face serious, his muscles bulging through his tight t-shirt.

“Huh?” Norman said.

“Dude, stand up and lose those threads. I need to see what I’m going to work with,” MG explained, somewhat gruffly.

Norman pulled down his sweatpants, exposing he checkered boxers, and took off his t-shirt, aware of his flabby belly. MC studied the almost naked body, shook his head, reached out to grab the fat layer of Norman’s stomach.

“This will take a lot of work, dude,” he said, his head shaking from side to side. He moved his hand up the bare chest to finger the nipples. “And these look like you’re ready to feed a suckling baby.” Here, MC actually snickered, unaware that Norman’s face cheeks had turned beet red.

As MG prodded Norman’s muscles and kept puffing his disappointment with the way they had deteriorated, Norman kept getting whiffs of body odor from MG, which turned his stomach. The topmost of his disgust came when MG blew out a long puff of breath as he felt Norman’s thigh muscles, his face inches away. The mouth odor was suffocating. Norman was a stickler in most things, but body odor and mouth smell were at the top of his list. He always used the backside of his toothbrush to rub his tongue vigorously because he’d read somewhere that mouth odor was caused by germs and microbes on the tongue.

With shaking hands, Norman stepped back and pulled up his sweatpants.

“Thank you for coming,” he said, his voice quivering with anger and shame, not to mention disgust. “I’ll see you to the door.”

MG stood up, a confused look on his face. “No? You’re not up to it?”

“No, thanks,” Norman repeated.

He closed the door behind MG, and heaved a sigh of relief. That was so fucking intense, he thought. He was angered by MG’s comments and the way he prodded his body. That wasn’t what he expected and was hoping for. However, he had felt his dick quiver, especially at the gruffness of MG’s voice, in spite of being totally intimidated.

Norman thought that the PT idea was a stupid one, anyway. He ran over his solitary life, social and sexual, quickly in his mind. Other than a distant cousin whom he kept in touch with via emails, he had no real friends, nor did he want any. As for the sex: wanking. Often. Also, if you considered porn as sex. He would invariably lie naked on his bed, fisting his dick, and stroking to images in his mind or on his laptop screen. What made him explode hard was always the part where the porn star buried deep, grabbed his partner’s body tight, and sucked on his partner’s lips as he grunted, pulled out, and cummed all over his partner’s butt. Norman would explode the second the porn star re-pushed his cum-covered cockhead inside the hole he had been fucking. Covering his naked and hairy chest with thick cum, Norman would pant and heave and slowly tease his slimed dick as he came down from his intense orgasm.

But back to personal training stuff. Norman had apparently started on the wrong foot. MG happened to be the wrong choice, but what about Young Guy? Returning to his laptop search, Norman went over the stats provided for YG. 6’ 2”. Not bad. Norman liked tall guys as long as they were not too intimidating. 170 lbs. The guy was kind of skinny, or maybe slim, as a PT should be, Norman guessed. 26 years old. That was odd. Norman flicked back to the profile picture. He had thought that YG must have been no older than 20 or 21 in spite of the light beard. He studied the facial features. YG couldn’t have been 26. But that didn’t matter much, did it.

With an anticipating body quiver, Norman called YG and set a date for the following evening. He followed this by another wanking session.

Again, Norman decided on sweatpants and t-shirt for the meet. YG’s name was Daryl according to the profile info. Norman didn’t have high hopes, but he had to take his idea to its end. It hadn’t worked with MG. That’d been disgusting. He hoped YG would be more satisfactory. Satisfactory? Norman chided himself for being so selective. Still, that was his character and he wasn’t about to change.

YG was satisfactory. Actually more than satisfactory. He proved to be quite fit without being overly muscled. When YG entered the apartment, Norman could take a whiff of lemony-minty light smell. YG was also very polite. He didn’t order Norman to strip, or prod at his Norman’s flabbiness. His garb was, according to Norman, quite appropriate as well. YG was in sweat shorts, loose, which accentuated his well-formed thighs and exposed his hairy legs. His top was a loose, sleeveless tank top, where you could see in: smooth skin, and when he made certain moves, nipples.

The first session started with the basics. There was some physical proximity and Norman thought that it was acceptable. After all, a personal trainer was supposed to be “personal”. As the sessions progressed, Norman could feel his body responding positively and he was elated. He grew to look forward to the sessions, to impatiently await the now familiar sauntering in of YG, a smile on the bearded young face, a backpack slung carelessly over his shoulder, in actual fact, Norman thought, not without some trepidation, quite sexy. YG’s body smell was fresh and sweet.

After around two weeks and six sessions with Daryl, Norman surprised himself as he shot his load high in the air, but in place of the usual image of a porn star’s cock impaling a slimed hole, Norman saw Daryl’s face looming over him, naked body, tall and slim and fit, cock squirting all over his hairy chest.

It was the session after Norman’s visualizing Daryl naked and cumming all over him when the suggestion of a body massage was offered. Daryl said that Norman needed to loosen up and enjoy the physicality of his exercising. Norman didn’t own a massage table, and Daryl suggested the couch if Norman didn’t object to Daryl’s squatting on the back of Norman’s thighs as he massaged Norman’s shoulder muscles.

Norman could feel Daryl’s weight pressing on his thighs and even the body heat as Daryl bent forward to work the shoulders. With a tremor throughout his body, Norman boned when he realized that Daryl’s crotch was only inches away from his butt.

Norman’s wanking that evening after Daryl had left was the most intense. All he visualized was a naked Daryl riding his butt. He had his own image of what Daryl’s dick was like. It must be at least 7 or so inches. Actually, Daryl did bulge a little in his loose sweat shorts, Norman noticed. The image in Norman’s mind showed a thick girth, a mushroomed knob, and a hard throbbing shaft. As he imagined this hot young rod rubbing his crack and wetting it with his cum, Norman shot hard. He squealed as squirt after squirt exploded and splashed all over him.

In a different mode of what had been a normal greeting, Norman opened the door for Daryl. The whiff of soap and mint reached his nose as the PT walked in, and as usual, wearing his sweat shorts and tank top. Norman took in a deep breath, realizing that he was starting to bone.

They did the push-ups, the sit-ups and whatever other exercises until the time for the massage came.

“Would you mind if I take off my shirt?” Daryl suggested.

Norman’s eyes bulged as he shook his head, his eyes fixed on the lank tall body. The chest was smooth save for a light patch in the middle and a few stringy hairs around pink nipples. Norman thought that this was the most appealing man chest he had ever seen. The pecs and abs were so defined as if they had been chiseled in clay by a master sculptor, to display the perfect human form.

“Should I…?” Norman tentatively asked as he licked his lower lip, trying to control his body shaking.

“Sure, Norman, if you feel more comfortable.”

Norman pulled off his t-shirt, noticing that his belly fat had become a bit compacted. He suddenly decided to lose the sweat pants as well. As he folded the pants to place them on the back of a chair, he saw a smirk on Daryl’s face, looking at his loose boxers.

“Norman, you don’t wear boxers for training. Don’t tell me this is what you’ve been wearing since we started. You need to keep your… ah…. equipment kinda tucked safely.” The smirk was wider.

“These are the only kind I have.”

“What you need is jockeys, like mine. Here.”

To Norman’s shock, a pleasant shock, Daryl pulled down his shorts. He was wearing white jockeys, splendidly housing his “equipment”, which now outlined the fabric. The bands supporting the firm fuzzy butt cheeks lifted them tightly to form a pair of firm bubbles. Norman exhaled audibly, his eyes glued at the stretched undies.

“This is what you need to get, Norman,” Daryl said, reaching down to adjust the jockey’s around his dick and balls. “You might as well take off the boxers,” he added, his smirk getting more pronounced.

Norman nodded, and shaking, he turned his back to Daryl, took off his boxers, aware of his bare hairy butt, and quickly lay on his belly on the sofa, pressing his now semi-hard dick against the cushions. Now, it was Daryl’s jockey’s which would be inches away from the his bare butt. 

The massage went on as expected until Daryl started working on the lower back. Somehow, Norman felt that his PT’s hands were wondering more onto his butt cheeks than was necessary. Instinctively, his reaction was to raise his butt an inch, his glutes rippling, every time Daryl’s hands massaged them.

Sliding his hands slowly up Norman’s back to his shoulders, Daryl leaned over, his crotch just touching the raised butt. As he lightly pressed, he heard a moan coming out of Norman, whose face was buried into a cushion. Encouraged, Daryl pressed and grinded. Norman moaned and pushed back.

His eyes shut tight, his face into the pillow, his breathing turning into panting, Norman thought: This cannot be happening. Daryl’s dick is pressing on my butt. There was more grinding until Norman felt Daryl’s arm wrap around his neck and Daryl’s body pressed on top of him. And what is that between my thighs? Norman suddenly shivered as he felt the snake-like dick rub the insides of is upper thighs as Daryl held him with his arm. When has Daryl taken off his jocks? Norman wondered as the feeling of the hard cock turned his whole body on fire.

Daryl licked and kissed as he humped. He loved the way Norman had given himself to him. He had noticed the signs right from the beginning. Norman had been hungry, sexually, and what he needed was Daryl’s body rather than Daryl’s training. He pressed harder on Norman, biting on his ear.

“Daryl,” Norman groaned into the pillow, “we shouldn’t be doing this.”

Daryl laughed, pulled himself off Norman, and flipped him onto his back, sliding up and riding Norman’s chest, his hard 7-inch cut cock staring straight into Norman’s face. Norman gazed aghast. It was almost exactly as he had imagined it to be. As if in a dream, he grabbed the thick hard shaft, pulling the mushroomed knob into his mouth, pressing his lips around the ridge.

“Fuck!” Daryl’s exclaimed.

When Norman tried to swallow, he choked and sputtered. The cock was so thick and hard that it stretched his jaws to the maximum. Daryl didn’t push in, but Norman was hungry to take it all. He had imagined it so often that now was his chance to take it for real. He fought back his gagging and bravely swallowed. But he couldn’t take it all. His eyes teared and he started to snot.

“Easy, baby,” Daryl said pulling out of Norman’s mouth, rubbing his wet knob around Norman’s lips and face cheeks. “This is too big for you to take it all in with one swallow. This your first?” Daryl could tell that here was a grown adult man who had never has sex with another man.

Norman nodded, stroking the hard and throbbing dick. His eyes roamed up the lank, flat and ribbed chest to the beautifully bearded face, and he melted. Beyond his expectations. Beyond his dreams. With a shudder, he suddenly started to shoot his load up in the air, splashing Daryl’s back with showers of semen.

“Oh my fucking God!” Daryl exclaimed, jumping off Norman as the last squirts shot out of his dick which was plastered on his belly. “You fucking cummed just by holding my cock?”

Norman’s face turned red as he shivered with the intensity of his ejaculation. This was his dream cock, in the palm of his hand, his dream body, inches away from his gazing eyes, of course he ejaculated.

Getting over the shock of being sprayed with man cum all over his back, Daryl gripped Norman by the hair and pushed his now leaking cock into Norman’s eager mouth. Norman sucked. Grabbing Daryl’s butt cheeks he bobbed up and down the young cock, starting to taste the boy’s salty pre. Daryl didn’t force himself any deeper than what Norman could take, but he kept his hands in Norman’s hair and pumped into the slurping mouth. With a loud grunt, Daryl emptied his nuts inside Norman’s throat, shaking as he realized that this man was tasting his first load of man cum, his own load.

The session ended with Daryl asking if he could shower and Norman waiting for Daryl to finish, dazed, spent, amazed at how things had developed. He reached down between his thighs and rubbed his crack feeling his butt-hole twitch and fantasizing about hot cum covering it, sliding into his crack and down his thighs.

It took two later sessions, two bouts of hot cock sucking, for Norman to become ready for more. He lay on his belly, anticipating. In his mind, all he pictured was Daryl’s semen hitting his hole and crack, just as he’d watched in porn flicks. He didn’t realize that opening a virgin ass was going to be an ordeal.

But Daryl knew. As he straddled the bare thighs and greased his hard cock, he knew that Norman was in for some back-breaking pain. He fingered the puckered hole, spreading more lubricant, in preparation. This hole was going to be fucked. It twitched against his finger hungrily. It was ready to be plucked, and Daryl was more than ready to pluck it. Lowering himself over Norman’s body, he slowly rubbed his greased knob around the hole and up and down the crack. Norman moaned into the cushion.

And then the thrusting began. Fisting his shaft, Daryl pressed onto the rim muscle. More pressure. A lot of resistance. With his other hand, Daryl lifted Norman’s hips making the butt cheeks spread more and he thrust hard, suddenly popping into the resisting ring. Norman screamed, his hand automatically reaching back to grab Daryl’s thigh, digging his nails into the skin.

“Oh, baby, so fucking tight,” Daryl grunted, licking onto Norman’s neck, his knob ridge throttled hard by the squeezing ring.

“Fuck!” was all that Norman was able to say. “Fuck!” he repeated as he felt the pressure increase and the ring stretch more to allow for an inch of hard shaft.

“Relax, Norm,” Daryl said, knowing that it was useless to tell someone whose virgin hole was being invaded by a thick man cock to relax. Norman, however, tried to relax as best he could, his ass burning like a furnace. He realized that for the feeling of cum splattering onto his butt had to be preceded by penetration, excruciatingly painful.

Daryl forced his cock shaft into the stretched hole reaching the inner ring. More resistance from Norman’s body. Daryl let Norman get used to the impalement before he thrust hard invading the ring and plunging balls deep inside the fuck tunnel. Norman screamed louder, both hands grabbing Daryl’s thighs, trying to release some of the pain.

Daryl stayed in, grinding on the butt cheeks, licking and sucking the neck and shoulders, breathing into the exposed skin of the sprawled Norman under him.

Norman’s reactions were now turning into meeting the grinding with grinding of his own, pushing back on the topping crotch, his tunnel accommodating the fucking pole. An inch at a time, Daryl moved out and back in, until he was able to pull the whole shaft out until the knob was just inside the gripping ring, and then push back through the tunnel and grind.

“Fuck me, Daryl,” Norman groaned, the pain receding, the pleasure shaking his body with every passage of cock shaft against his spots. He knew he was leaking, the wetness under him was coming out of his quivering dick. Daryl started to fuck, now that Norman was responding. Long and hard. Thrusting and pounding, both men grunting and groaning. Grabbing Norman’s waist with his arm, Daryl lifted Norman higher and ploughed deeper into him. His cock thickened as he got closer to ejaculation.

“Pull out and cum on my butt,” Norman pleaded, his voice breaking with the panting. “Cum on my butt, baby, and then shove it back in.”

Norman was experiencing his own porn flick. His shivering was uncontrollable as he felt his tunnel plop when Daryl pulled out, and as the hot semen started to hit his cheeks and crack. When he felt Daryl’s slimed knob press back against his hole to re-enter him, he exploded, his cum squirting all over the couch. Daryl felt the ring squeeze as Norman jizzed, and he savagely thrust into the hole, feeling the fantastic massaging of the squeezing ring around his cock shaft.

The two men sat next to each other, still panting, their naked bodies covered with sweat. Norman’s ass was leaking more cum onto the couch and he knew that he was going to have some serious cleaning to do. His ass hurt. Very sore. Very satiated. Very fucked.

Daryl leaned and kissed Norman on the lips. To Norman’s  surprise, Daryl was still hard inside the palm of his hand. Slimed and hard. However, he resisted the urge of taking Daryl again. His jaws were sore, his ass was sore, actually, his whole body was sore.

Pressing around the hard young cock shaft, Norman smiled. “Keep this hard fucker hard for some more tomorrow, baby,” he said.

Daryl nodded and winked. “Best fuck ever, Norman. I wonder whether tomorrow will be better.”

Norman laughed. “I guess we’ll have to wait till tomorrow then.”

They kissed some more and Daryl showered and left. Norman didn’t shower. He needed to keep the feeling of Daryl’s cum and sweat on his body for as long as possible. He postponed the showering until the morning, knowing that he was going to wank like crazy throughout the night.

Norman, virgin no more.