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Married Muscle CoachMy second daddy was Ed Marston. Strength training coach at theuniversity. Not my university, but one in my hometown. That summer while athome, I’d been doing my best to keep up weight training at the Y. I thoughtI’d been doing OK til I literally bumped into a large, muscular older manat the GNC. We got talking about supplements, then he started giving meadvice, then asked me about my workout routines. One thing led to anotherand the man invited me to work out off-hours at the university gym.The better equipment was great, but the best thing was the rapport Ideveloped with Marston. The man was big and surprisingly in-shape for50. His build was ex-football all the way, and I could tell he worked hardto keep every bit of muscle tone and bulk as his body changed. Soon I wouldlearn this meant 3 hours of working out a day, in addition to the time hespent with athletes. He had a gruff exterior but with kind brown-eyes. Hishair was thinning and almost entirely gray, but he kept it trimmedmilitary-tight.One the first day, I cautioned him that I didn’t want to get a footballbuild, cause it might affect my game.”Boy,” he laughed. “I do this for a fucking living. I know what I’m doing.”We got along great after güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri that, and over the summer I gained ten solidpounds of pure muscle mass, all under Marston’s careful tutelage. I thinkit was a few weeks into my training when it first happened. Just a few daysafter my hook up with Mr. Grayson, in fact. I was swimming in testosteroneand feeling super cocky about my gains in the gym. After a couple of setson the bench press, I peeled off my shirt. “How am I doin’ Coach?” Itaunted as I flexed my pecs for my new workout mentor.Ed sized me up for a second. I couldn’t tell if he was taken aback or hadseen this preening behavior a million times. Casually, he reached downuntucked the gray polo shirt he was wearing, stripping it up off and overhis head.”You’re doing good, guy, but you got a ways to go.”That moment blew my mind. Here was this man, 50 and married, with aperfectly sculpted muscle bod. He either shaved or waxed as there wasnothing to interrupt my vision of his hard flesh. There were a few telltalegiveaways of his age: the rougher skin, muscles that looked vascular andpumped rather than effortless, thick and heavy nipples poking out from hissmooth chest, and a stubborn mobilbahis little bit of padding that kept Ed from havinga visible six pack.”Wow!” I muttered in disbelief.”Pretty good for an old guy, right?” He had a sly grin now. Tablesdefinitely turned.I could barely look up from the sight of his bared chest. My breath wasgetting shorter. “How old are you?””Turned 50 last month.”I couldn’t believe this guy was 50 but truth be told it was kind of a turnon that he was. It was like an extraordinary feeling of taboo swept overme. All I could think about was this man fucking someone.”Your wife must be pretty happy,” I blurted out.”She is,” he answered confidently. “That doesn’t stop me from being acommitted adulterer,” he winked.We continued my workout, but damn, it was getting hard to since I keptlooking at Ed. His full frame, his bared chest, the smooth skin. I wonderedagain if he shaved or waxed his chest, but I had heard that a few guys arenaturally smooth, even as they age.I finally worked up the courage. “You ever fool around with other guys?”He looked at me long and hard and replied, “That depends. If they’re young,hot, and cocky, well, yeah, I do.”The testosterone was really pumping in me now. mobilbahis güvenilir mi I felt the heat flush mybody and my prick bone up. More horny than brave, I pulled my shorts down,exposing my erection. I took a deep breath and spoke.”Man, I could use my cock sucked right now.”I thought for a second Marston was gonna punch me. He was looking at mewith such fierce intensity. But he just nodded and got into a crouchposition. I somehow knew he wasn’t gonna reach for my dick, somehow knew itwas my role to take the steering wheel and drive. I stepped up, letting thehard heat of my hardon slap his face.He gave a soft moan and I pushed in. Slowly at first as his tongue wettedmy dick, then more intently I sank my boner into this muscle dad’s mouth.”Aw yeah!” I growled. “Feels so fucking good. I’d like to do this to mydad.” I just blurted it out, couldn’t help it, but it seemed to egg thisstrength coach on. He sucked hard at my shaft and was rewarded with a heavyteenjock ejaculation.Neither of us could wait for the next workout session. We went through ourroutine half-heartedly and headed to the steamroom early. Marston surprisedme by kissing me full on the mouth, tongue and all, then turning around andbacking his beefy coachdad ass against my prick.”You’re trouble, k**,” he said matter-of-factly as I slicked up and mountedhim.I just held on to his chest and ran my fingers through the pumpedstrength-coach muscle, as my dick continued its sexual education burieddeep inside this rack of DILF beef.

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