PG13's Blogs

Even though it was earned by making the firm a dump truck full of money, my vault onto the Executive Floor was unforeseen.  Not just a much bigger salary, but a passel of perks as well.  One of which was a membership in a very high end gym, with a personal trainer to boot.  There was a catch to that; we were expected to work out at least twice a week, as senior management didn’t want us dropping dead before they wrung value from us.

So on the weekend I go to the gym, which seems more like a spa it’s so luxurious.  I get the tour from the owner, noting both public and private areas.  I see guys like me, but also trainers, men and women.  The trainers are uniformly good-looking and many are hot.  And here comes my trainer, and I’m in lust from the start.  Michael has a curly mop of hair, a handsome friendly face, and a body worthy of a fashion magazine.  He’s wearing a red skin tight spandex body suit, looks like jumpin’ jack flash.  Nicely muscled, but not over muscled; well-shaped pecs, with prominent nipples; rippling abs visible; solid ass, with lovely dents in the glutes; and a tempting bulge between his legs.  Oh my!  BTW, I’m Alex, not nearly as athletic or handsome as Michael.

We chat while he collects my health and fitness information, hears my goals.  Michael is personable and open, bright and funny.  I had to concentrate some to hold up my end of the conversation, as my thoughts strayed to the hard body under the spandex.  And as he spoke I wanted to kiss his lips.  At times my desire must have been evident, but I expected he was used to that.  So while we walk through the gym, he shows me various machines, tests me out on them.  I can feel the workout, and am enjoying it.  I also am enjoying the physical closeness of him, his hands on me as he guides my motions.  His movements are almost catlike, a physical ballet.  At times he’s close enough to feel his body heat, and smell the sweat and musk coming off him.  I didn’t know it, but he was seducing me from the very first moment. 

After an hour or so, Michael declares it’s enough for today and asks if I would like a massage.  Of course I would.  The thought of his hands on my body sent waves of pleasure through me.  He hands me a towel, says “Strip, please”, and looks away.  I get naked and, as asked, lie face down on the bed, my head in a rest.  The gentle massage begins at my feet; he makes them centres of pleasure.  My calves and thighs are loving it, but he gives me a message when he reaches my butt.  The glutes get a good workout, but his hands change character when they reach my cleft.  They are more gentle and stroking.  He gets close to my hole, his fingers just an inch away, but doesn’t touch it.  I’m pretty sure my hole flexed – gave a little wink – and a tremor passed through my hips.  But he continued up my body, finishing with the neck, a lovely loosening.

Michael looked away again as I turned over, covering a cock that was partially erect and even twitching.  I had no idea what was coming, but I was pretty sure it was going to be good.  He started with my face, which almost made me cum right then.  His hands covered me, protected me, owned me, seemed to love me.  The pleasure grew as he massaged my chest, and another paroxysm of pleasure passed though me when he stroked my armpits, wet with my sweat and desire.    He moved right to my thighs, holding my hips, which heaved of their own accord.  By now my cock was hard, quivering, and free from the towel which covered it.

Michael looked right into my eyes as his fingers just brushed my cock: “You want?”  No words were required to express my want, but I did squeak out a “Please”.  His hands spread my legs, his fingers finding my balls, stroking, then kneading.  Then a whole hand was around them; I was his slave.  But he was a loving master as his fingers found my cock, stroking its pulsating length.  I was not going to last long, my hips were heaving, my eyes wild, mouth open to moan.  As I passed over the threshold into orgasm, I nearly passed out; Michael leaned down and took me into his mouth.  As I began to pump my cum into his mouth, his lips and tongue were working at me, his throat swallowing.  At the same time, though I felt a finger in my hole, thrusting in, just a little.  Eventually I was spent.  His mouth left my cock and found my mouth, filling it with my cum and his spit.  I savoured the taste, but drank eagerly.

He pulled away, looked at me with an impish grin and said “Want more?”  Cum from him.  All I could say again was “Please”.  The body suit was off in as instant and there was his beautiful body and a lovely throbbing cock: a size which well-suited his body.  I raised myself up on my side and brought my face to brush against his length, to feel all of it pressed on my face, its heat, its smell.  Michael brought it to my lips, and we met with my tongue circling the head, then letting him slowly slide in my mouth, my tongue working welcome.  And then he was all the way in, my throat swallowing hard to accept him.  But not for long as his thrusts began, him holding my head.  A low growl presaged his orgasm, a couple of hard spurts then a steady flow of cum.  All I could drink and more.

Once again we kissed, this time with me sharing his cum.  As he broke away, he said “Shower for you; see you Tuesday.  O, and by the way, your accounting accepts this as ‘supplementary services’.”  I hadn’t really thought of paying for sex, but of course that was what it was.  I could think about the moral implications later, but for the moment I wanted to enjoy the memory of the pleasures.  And, of course, to wonder what Tuesday would bring.

I conveniently decided there were no moral implications to what I was doing; this was a business transaction with someone who was clearly prosperous and who seemed content with his job.  The income from the supplementary services certainly would have helped.

Tuesday turned out quite different.  Saturday I was seduced.  Tuesday I am the client; the lead is mine.   Perhaps perversely, the first thing I want to do is worship his body, become his slave, be in his thrall, taste, swallow and be covered with his sweat, his cum, his spit, maybe even his piss.  Down boy!

We have a good workout and training session.  He is very hands on, which pleases me greatly.  He has also worked up a sweat; his smell is tantalising.  Today he is dressed in a T-shirt and hot pants, which suit his body greatly.  I want to roll in his clothes.

We go to the massage room, stop before the table.  Michael asks: “What would you like?”  I replay “You, naked.”  He is pleased with the request, drops his shorts, slips off his Tee.  And the sight of him naked is a joy to behold.  Yes I saw is muscle outlines and butt dents Saturday, but today I was seeing touchable and kissable flesh, some of it glistening with sweat.  Where do I start?  I did want to kiss him, even though it was a commercial act.  He was still very good at it, almost convincing me, mouth open, tongue probing, spit sharing.  I was more comfortable licking his face, and then he licked mine.  What a wonderful moment!

Later I would learn more patience, but today my needs were insistent.  Kissing and nibbling his neck and ears, feeling the roughness of his hair against my face and lips, inhaling the scent of his head.  Moving to his upper chest, mouthing those firm pecs, tender touching his nipples, and then diving into his pits: lightly haired but mouth lovely, and the glorious acrid smell and taste of his sweat.  Rubbed my face in it.  And then on to those abs, each to be kissed and licked.  His navel was an ‘inny’, but a small stone was there glittering red.  Beautiful.

I took off my clothes and knelt, then rocking back on my knees, to view his riches.  His pubic hair was thick and black, nicely trimmed, also glistening with sweat.  His cock, jutting out fully erect, as glorious as before.  But I was in awe of his balls, which I had overlooked in my frantic fellatio last Saturday.  They hung low, the bigger one on the left hanging lower.  What a cum factory!  I moved in closer, pressing his cock against my face, hot and long.  But I was taking the time to inhale his musk, rich and heady.  I moved my head down, reverently kissed and tongued his sac and those wonderful orbs. I was having an effect; Michael was breathing more heavily, his hands were on my head and his hips were slo-mo twerking.  My lips moved up his shaft, tonguing and sucking.  I got to the glans, just circled it with my lips, and then sprung my surprise:

“I want you to fuck me.  Here, now, hard.”

Michael might have preferred to fuck my head, but he was certainly ready to fuck my ass.  He motioned for me to bend and lean against the massage table, collecting lube from somewhere.  His cock was in my crack almost immediately.  I could feel my hole asking for penetration.  Which came soon enough.  His entry was forceful, but not hurtful.  I did gasp when he popped my cherry, but he waited, and then made a long steady thrust until I could feel all of him in me, the hair of his pubes, pressing against my ass.  He began quite gently, slow easy withdrawals, thrust in a little faster.  I could feel the desire building in me.  I wanted to be taken.  I began to give little cries, moans really.  I was ready.  Half a command, half a plea: ”Now, give it to me now”.  His thrusts became harder, they felt deeper.  He had his hands on my hips, was moving his body in collision with me.  I could hardly stand up, crying “Yes, yes!”, as I began my orgasm.  Michael came soon after, holding his cock hard inside me.

His withdrawal was gentle.  He practically had to hold me up I was so spent.  I could feel his cum running down my leg.  He held me from the back, reaching around to give me a little kiss and a lick.  With a little grin and “You need to shower”, he was gone.

We didn’t have sex every time I came to the gym.  I don’t think I could have sustained that.  But it was often enough.  I was very much the bottom, swallowing his cum and taking it up my ass.  Michael enjoyed my sometimes insistence on what would take place.  Through our workouts, our sex and our conversation we were coming closer.  But it was still billed as supplementary services.  And I was feeling great, physically stronger and sexually satisfied.  But there was one things I wanted to do, but not at the gym.  So one day, after I had got another really good fuck inside me, I turned to him and said: I would like to come inside you and cum inside you, but I would like a real bed and maybe a little romance.

“We can do that; you set the date”

We settled on a weekend retreat – my treat – to a nearby hotel with lots of gym and spa facilities.  Our sessions before the weekend were quite intense.  I remember the time I decided to ride him.  I was so eager I took him in a little too fast; my eyes popped wide and I gave a little gasp.  Michael raised his hands to take mine, looking deeply at me, with caring and compassion.  I spent some time bent over kissing him wetly.  Then he put his hands on my hips; I was riding but he had the reins.  I often cum when he fucks me, many times without even touching myself.  This was one of those times, practically out of nowhere.  I gave a long low moan.  My pulses and heaves brought on his orgasm; a couple of long deep thrusts, purposeful but gentle.  I regret when he pulls his cock out, but I do love the feel of his cum dripping from my open, flexing hole.

Anyway, we checked in and decided (well it was Michael’s idea; I wanted him then and there) to check out the gym.  It was a good workout, my desire giving me energy.  I so wanted to ravish him in the elevator and the halls, but I restrained myself.  Michael was looking focussed and intense.  At our door, he stopped me, looked earnestly in my eyes and said “Be gentle with me”.  I knew he bottomed only rarely, so it might hurt at the start.  My smile and touch to his face made my promise.

I asked if I could undress him.  He grinned in agreement, kicked off his shoes.  This time he was wearing a Tee, wet with sweat.  It was a little hard to get off, but I helped as I could lick his pits while the shirt was over his head.  He kept his arms up after, and pushed my heads into his hair and musk.  Such smells and tastes and textures were the stuff of dreams.  I took my fill, then knelt down to take his gym shorts, and his socks.  I pressed my face against his jockeys, feeling his hardness, smelling his sex. And then mouth was in his pubes, licking his cock, tasting his sweaty balls.  Michael was enjoying the attention, his hips gently extending.

But now I wanted to take him.  So I pulled away, asked that he kneel at the edge of the bed.  And there was his lovely hard ass, with a rosy treasure in the centre.  I wanted his hole well prepared for my eager cock, so I made a feast of his buns, his crack and his hole.  My face, my lips and my tongue were all over.  I knew I was reaching him when he reached back to spread his cheeks.  It was time for treasure hunting.  Kisses, tongue washing, finally tongue penetration.  He held my head; I could hear a low moan. And then it was time.

I just placed the tip of my cock at his opening to start, waiting for him. When he began to move against me, I knew I had the invitation.  Just a little push, pause, pull out, a little push, pause, pull out.  And then a bigger push, popping the cherry.  A small sob from him.  I waited, and we both could feel his release and welcome.  Sliding into him, so very slowly, had a dreamlike quality; it was magic.  When I was pressed against his ass, Michael gave a little moan, part pain, part desire.  I rested again.  Then I slowly pulled out, rolling him over.  “Get on the bed, on your back, raise your legs”.  He looked at me with a little wonder in his eyes, but did as he was told.  His ass partly on my thighs, once again I placed the top against his hole; I could feel it pulse.  This time the cherry was ready and receptive.  Once again I slowly thrust all the way into him, this time watching his face.  I could read a little pain, but also a powerful need.  I changed my position to lie on him, beginning gentle but insistent thrusts.  As his pleasure grew, he began to breathe more heavily, moaning a bit.  After a while, he was lost in pleasure, his eyes rolling his mouth slack, spit and snot on his face.  I could feel the orgasm building in him, his body now heaving to meet my thrusts.  His face was yearning, his need for care so clear.  He sobbed “Alex, Alex, Alex!” then his cock was pumping sperm onto my stomach.  Which was enough to set me over the top as well, some steady deep thrusts, pushing cum into him.

After a moment, Michael’s body stilled, but his eyes were still rolled back and his breath was still heaving.  I was bushed and depleted as well, so I didn’t stay inside very long, then cuddling beside him.  Michael came back to consciousness with a case of the giggles, blissed out with the strength of his orgasm.  I was well pleased.  In a moment, he put his hands between his legs, brought his fingers to my mouth to taste my cum leaking out.  We were both ready for the shower, and the hotel had one big enough for two.  Fun times.

We went to dinner, then to a club.  Mellow and happy together we went to sleep side by side.

I woke to feel a penis pushing inside me.  My startled jerk was brief, and then my hand reached back to guide him in.  What a welcome waking dream!  Although I was well accustomed and prepared for his cock inside me, nonetheless the sensation of stretching was - dare I say - sizable.  And then that feeling of fullness in inside me.  His thrust was gentle but continuous, until I could feel his pubes against my cheeks.  At that point, he rolled us do that he was fully on top.  For a while we just enjoyed the shared feeling of bodies pressed together and joined together.  He was resting most of his weight on me; I felt fully enveloped and owned.  It was breath-taking: emotionally, sexually and physically.  Before I became uncomfortable, he lifted his weight and began small thrusts inside me.  It was like another heart beating in me.  We were able to make a rhythm together, and just danced together for a while.  His thrusts became a little more demanding.  I relaxed and let him take me.  His journey to climax was slow at first, but then moved to deep thrusts.  As his body began to tremble, he gave a long low moan.  He collapsed on top of me, except I could feel pulses from his cock and small jerks of his torso.  He moved off me and we both fell into deep sleeps.

All in all the weekend was a mistake, although perhaps inevitable.  Make no mistake, we had an absolutely wonderful time.  Lots of good sex; three more orgasms for him, just one for me, but more than enough.  But we just went well together in other ways: exercising, walking, shopping, eating, talking.  And that was the problem.  This had grown into something more than a fundamentally commercial relationship.

We talked about it the next week, realized we couldn’t continue without one or both of us being hurt.  So the sex had to stop, and the training had to transition to someone else.  It wasn’t easy.  For a while we met from time to time for a coffee or a drink.  But then I took a better job in another city, and we were able to separate more completely.

But I won’t separate from some wonderful memories.