Snippets: Every Tuesday At The Gym

My alarm clock wakes me up at 4 a.m. I piss, do a quick shave, and shit before I put on one of my workout tees, underwear (I sleep naked), and my hooping shorts as I prepare to hit the gym. Depending on the weather outside, I may wear a jacket. I create my playlist on my phone prior to walking out the door, grab my earbuds from the living room dresser, then hop in the truck, and barrel 10 minutes down the road to the 24-hour Planet Fitness. I say a prayer in my pickup prior to cutting the engine. I cut the engine, log on to the Planet Fitness app on my phone, and I check in, ordinarily for an expeditious entrance. I speak to those who make eye contact, then grab my earbuds out of my pocket for insertion to kick off whatever workout with 30 minutes of cardio. Please understand I'm minding my business, thinking of how the day will transpire as I jog. This is my routine, with me not paying attention to anyone else, but with others paying attention to me. When the 30 minutes is up, there's a choice between upper body, lower body, or straight core, and Dennis, a member who frequents the gym as much as me, let me know one time he took notice.

"I swear kid, you're here every single damned day," he uttered after one session.

We were in the locker room, and I was focused as I doubled my lifting session to equal an almost two-hour grind. I stumbled into the locker room as I pushed myself a little too hard, and he walked in behind me, seemingly to let it be known that he admired my grind.

"You young bucks inspire me," he said. "And I'm Dennis by the way."

"Mark," I replied, as the burly northerner stared at me.

Dennis didn't know I was in my mid 40s, and the product of 23 years of naval service. He figured with my smooth face, and thin, muscular figure, that I was still in my 20s, perhaps 30s. I wouldn't share my age for I loved the compliments coming from the sweaty 50-or-60 something.

"Your wife sure is lucky," he added.

"Not married," I said, as I corrected him before chuckling.

"Been with the ball and chain for 38 years," he shared as if he was ashamed of marriage.

At this moment, he and I got to know each other while the locker room was empty of anyone else. Dennis was an Italian and Irish mix, with a clean shaven head, and thick, gray beard. He was an ornery, burly man, with his thick New York accent, and even thicker, muscular arms. He admonished me for not having a pretty woman to join me in the gym.

"The gym is my temple. No girls allowed," I told him in a facetious manner.

A smirk crossed his face, and I was wondering if he caught "the message."

He wondered if I liked women, and I told him "enough to have three sons." That made him chuckle, and I began to undress down to my soaked underwear, while he kept looking on.

"No shower shoes," he asked.

I grabbed them from the bottom of the locker, and placed them on the floor. I was nearly butt naked as I was preparing to pull down my briefs.

"I'm sorry son," he said. "But you've got a fabulous figure."

I thanked him before I dropped my underwear on purpose.

"I'm Italian, too," I said to him. "My parents were both born in Napoli."

"I can see the sausage," he joked as I released my six inch cock.

I began to harden at this moment as I figured Dennis was checking me out. I looked back at him, and noticed he didn't turn away.

"Its not polite to stare," I said to him.

He ignored my comment as I smiled, then turned my back to him to continue preparing for the shower with my ass exposed to him. I went into my locker to grab my towel, then slowly wrapped it around my waist to tease him.

"Oh, you sexy bastard," he tried saying under his breath.

"What's the matter," I replied.

"You fucking stud, you know I want a piece of you" he replied as we were still alone.

By this moment he managed to be naked from the waist down. I saw his big hairy chest, with its dark, purple nipples, and his fat belly button on his bulging stomach. I also saw his short, but fat cock as it leaked precum to the floor.

"What's on your mind," I asked as I closed the locker.

I stepped towards the shower, but gave him a quick glare as a hint I wanted him to join me. I could feel his eyes as I walked away, and draped my towel across the knob beside the handicapped stall, before pulling back the shower curtain. I cut on the water, then looked to my left to see him draping a towel across his body as he was preparing to shower, too. I closed the curtain, and began lathering up my body when I heard footsteps near my shower. My curtain opened, and it was Dennis, undoing his towel around his waist before he'd join me in the stall.

"I couldn't take it anymore," he said as we both snickered.

I knew what he wanted for he said it without "saying it." I was much taller than Dennis (I'm six foot two, he's maybe five foot nine, at best), but I grabbed my ankles, and stuck my ass out as an invite for him to slip inside.

"Not today," he replied. "You sit down on this bench."

I did as he requested, and he placed his belly in front of me before lifting his left leg to the bench. I leaned down and forward, and put that musky prick in my mouth to taste his salty precum, while he pressed at the back of my skull. I'm a versatile guy, one who likes to fuck and receive the same in return. Dennis' belly bumping my forehead was a treat along with his little cock being beaten by my tongue. Dennis has superior agility as he bounced his hips back and forth in fucking my mouth. I put one hand on his ass, the other on his big, hairy balls as his cock slipped in and out of my mouth.

"That's it, boy," he said as he punched in and out.

He rumbled his body harder, and I'd feel that thick cock pulsate more with each thrust. Daddy Dennis was leaker as he grunted as quietly as he could from having his cock sucked.

"You're better than my wife," he uttered as he was crashing his plump body against me.

"Don't you fucking stop. Don't you fucking stop, boy."

I managed to slip a finger between his ass cheeks, and press inside to land on his prostate. I wiggled my finger across it, and felt his inner button puncture as he was whimpering loudly. Dennis was verbal and cared less that anyone else could catch on to what was happening. He was close, warning me only through his wailing before he'd cry, and grab the back of my hair.

"Oh shit," was all he could utter while my finger pressed his prostate, and he'd fill my mouth with his salty liquid. I made sure to swallow every drop, and he'd let go of my hair.

"I usually don't cum that much," he told me.

I licked my lips, then stood up as he opened the curtain seeing if the coast was clear.

"I wanna do this again," he said before exiting. "But next time, I want to fuck that ass."

There would be a next time, and he'd leave before I jacked off my own load in the shower. I'd clean myself, then leave the shower in order to get dressed, and start the day. He and I wouldn't meet again until the following Tuesday, when things would get even more interesting.

Stay tuned.