Being thirty and already developing a beer gut, I began working out at the local gym. And since I worked nights, the equipment was readily available, which was cool. No crowds.
After a month or so, I got to know some of the regulars, mostly retired guys, some into their eighties, God bless them! Mostly it was just to say hi, but a few became as regular as clockwork, so I sort of bonded with a guy named Abe.
Mark and I have been friends since we were five. We met in kindergarten and pretty much were inseparable all the way through high school, college and to this day. Pee Wee football, junior varsity, varsity. Sleepovers at my house and camping trips with his family. When he got a car for his 16th we started double dating as well. Both of us played ball just well enough to get chosen for our small state college as walk-ons.
The morning was like every other. I got up, got ready for work, got the kids off to daycare, and went back home to get logged into work. My day wasn't looking too busy. I only had a couple of assignments to take care of. I started checking my business emails and was about the pack up and leave.
Just as I was about ready to go, I heard my wife coming down the stairs. She usually wasn't up that early, so I was happy to have a chance to tell her good-bye and wish her well for the day.
He was going to kill me.
Not merely an idle thought, but quite possibly a fact considering what I was about to do. I was treading not only the very distinct line of our abstract relationship this afternoon, but perhaps straddling the damn thing, erasing the permanent marker with the lacy tops of Chinese silk stockings, fraying the edges on the constitution of our very own sexual etiquette.
"Beep, beep, beep." The damn alarm clock screams to wake me up for my first day back at college. I wasn't looking forward to going back for my second semester. I had extremely hard classes scheduled. I had to take my highest math class, my highest science course, and my highest English course, all in one semester. By the time I was out of the shower, my Mom was heading out. My Mom was an English professor at my college. She taught an advanced English course, which I thankfully wasn't required to take.
I was having the sweetest dream. My wife was giving me the best blow job I've ever had! Then I started to wake up and realized that it wasn't a dream! Her soft lips were working my cock like never before, and this time she was having no trouble taking all seven inches.
I first saw her as she walked from her car towards the supermarket.
She was hard to miss, especially in broad daylight. I was parked two rows away and she walked into the Harris Teeter store about twenty steps ahead of me, her tight ass swaying back and forth in her tiny, designer-label jean miniskirt.
It had been three months since the last semen reward I received from that beautiful 27 year old cock. My wife had seen the lust in my eyes for the cock and knew this would become a staple to my diet. That's how I ended up here...on my knees with a cock in each hand.
The door opened and I leaped forward, letting out an excited squeal like a teenage girl as I wrapped my arms around the girl who stood there, hugging her tightly. She returned both the hug and the squeal, both of us overjoyed at being together again after three months apart. We pulled apart and I just gazed at her face. Robyn! After all these months, I was finally seeing Robyn again!
I must admit, I was impressed as soon as I set my eyes on him.
His wrists were bound tightly together with a piece of rope that was fixed to the ceiling through a single brass loop. His feet were drawn back toward his buttocks with another piece of rope pulled through the brass loop, keeping them firmly in situ.