A fellow guest saw me working out in just my jockstrap in the hotel gym and immediately came over. I was doing weighted squats as he grunted, “Kid, there’s a dress-code here.” Of course I immediately apologised. “I’m sorry Sir, I didn’t realise! Has someone made a complaint?”
He walked around me in a little circle, observing my form as I continued my squats. “Nah… I guess it’s OK… carry on… but say, why are you wearing so little?” I explained that, with such a phat ass, it felt so much better to exercise in something that allowed me so much freedom… even arching my back and twerking a little to demonstrate what I meant. He cupped the ample bulge in his shorts with one meaty paw, grinning sheepishly. “I wish I could workout in just a jock… but I don’t think they make them big enough.”
Being my usual helpful self, I gave him a hot tip. “Actually there’s a sportswear store right across the road that might stock your size. I can see it from my balcony in room 205; you should check it out!” He smirked and rubbed his stubbled chin. “Yeah… I think I will… enjoy your workout kiddo.” With a firm but lingering slap on my jiggling ass, he was gone.
That night, a knock on my hotel room door woke me. Groggily, I answered it in my pyjama thong and was surprised to see the stranger from the gym standing there. He was wearing a brand new jockstrap and a baseball cap with that monstrous bulge already stretching out the pouch in front. He pushed past me quickly to shut the door behind him. “Thanks kid… my wife’s asleep down the hall but I knew you’d wanna see this. You were right! They had one in my size - XXL. Time for you to get a closer look…”
