#relbog

yeahstr82gay:

Vacation over.  Back to school.  Trudge, trudge, trudge.

The sand under my feet seemed to push back as I trekked across the beach, leaving me with the ridiculous notion that the beach and I were locked in a struggle.  More to the point, my heart struggled against another summer done.  I’d seen 40 summers so far, and my oldest kid had already seen 12.  Like sands through an hour glass, the old soap opera sang in my head.  I pushed the ascendant thought down, squashing it under my toes.

“Hey.”

His voice startled me, and I jerked my head too quickly, like a frightened horse.  “Oh!  Hey!”  I blushed furiously.  It was Todd Davis from Huntingdon Farms, husband of Heidi, father of four.  I knew, because I’d been creeping on him as discretely as possible since arriving here and had finally figured out who he was on the guest list.  We’d said hello exactly once, at the dune buggy hut, as we both reserved buggies for ourselves and our kids.  

“Nice evening.”  He smiled pleasantly, his eyes steady, his hands shoved in his pockets.  An ocean breeze made his tank snap invitingly against his abdomen.  I tried not to look and suppressed that damn girlishness that always seemed to get the better of me around good-looking men.

“Yeah!  Haha! It sure is!”  Fuck.  Calm down, Erickson, I told myself.  “It’s a beautiful evening.”

He turned and glanced at the sun, nodding.  I let my eyes dribble over his profile, slender, masc, perfect.

“Yeah,” he said.  “Hate to leave it.”

“Yeah.  So are you heading home tomorrow, too?”

He nodded again.  “Yeah.”  He turned and held out his hand.  “I‘m Todd. Todd Davis.”

The touch of his palm–I tried not to hold his hand too long.  I’d shoved all these feelings deep down into my gut for 28 years, and I wasn’t going to make a fool of myself now.  Even if I would gladly be a fool for him.  “Brent Erickson.  From Maywood.”

I blushed again, realizing, or perhaps just fearing, that I had just outed my prior knowledge of his hometown by not specifying our state.  His eyebrows popped up in perfect semi-circles of surprise.

“Oh!  Maywood, Michigan?“

“Oh! Hahaha!  Yeah, yeah, I should have said the state–yes, Michigan.  And where are–” 

“We are, too!”  We, he said.  The prefect family man.  I little kernel of sorrow in my gut blossomed.  I should be like him.  I wanted to be like him.  I wanted him.  “Huntingdon Farms!”

“Wow!  Ha!  Not that far!”  Smooth, Erickson, my mind scolded.  Next you can observe that the beach is sandy or that the ocean is big.

“Well, that’s cool,” he said.  He turned to look at the sun again.  Half of it now swam in the waves.  I looked at his ass.  Round, tight, a perfect half-sun of studliness.  I looked up.  He was staring at me.

“Oh!  Sorry.  What?”  I stuttered.

“I said, ‘Are your wife and kids down at the bonfire, too?’“

“Oh! Haha!  Yeah!  Yeah, they are!”

“Our families seem a lot alike.”

Now I stared at him.  He’d noticed and observed my family.  Yet I never remembered observing him observing us.  But he had.  He had.

“Yeah–yeah, they do! I think our boys are about the same age.”

“My oldest is 13.”

“Yeah!  Mine is 12.”

“Cool.  Maybe they’ll face each other in football some day,” he grinned.

“Haha!  Maybe!”  I felt as though every word I spoke was inane.  “He wants to be a kicker.”

Todd nodded.  “Yeah, mine wants to be a quarterback, but I dunno.”  He chuckled quietly, reaching over a shoulder to scratch his back.  My eyes melted into his skin.  He must work out.  No working man could afford this trip.  Right?  He must work out.  I want to kiss your nipples, I thought. I looked up and saw him staring at me again.

“Oh! Hahahah!  Sorry, my, uh, my mind was on something else.  What did you say?”

He grinned a moment before continuing.  He coughed, his voice low.  “I said, ‘Do you play?’“

My skin seemed to stretch tight, and my stomach jumped.  Do I play?  Holy fuck.  Was this happening?  I blinked several times and wet my lips before answering.

“I–I never have, but–but I’d like to.”  I spoke quietly and stepped closer.  “You–you do?  Heh?”

He tipped his head back slightly, still smiling but holding me in a reserved, curious gaze.  “No, not any more.  Too old even for those dad leagues.”

I spluttered a laugh.  “I don’t think you’re too–”

“I mostly just coach now.”

I froze.  He coached?  Coached … .  Fuck! 

He was still talking about football. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck!  I tried to recover and spluttered something about busy schedules.

“Yeah.”  He twisted away from me, pivoting on his feet.  “Tell me about it.  I should probably head back so I’m there for bedtime with the little ones.”

“Right.  Yeah.  Me, too.”  My cheeks blazed.  I wanted to die.

“Nice talking.”  He started to trudge away.

I closed my eyes briefly before stepping forward.  “Yeah.  Yeah, nice to meet you.”

“See you back home, maybe.”

I snapped my head around, hope fluttering in my stomach.  He was walking backwards, smiling at me.  He waved.

“Todd Davis,” he called.  “I work at Myers & Van Denk Design.  Give me a call.”

I waved, smiling too broadly.  “I will.  Safe travels.”

He turned and walked away, his calf muscles beautiful in the sun.  Would I call him?  I didn’t know.  But suddenly, 40 summers didn’t seem so long. 

maturedadsandmen:

Tony Walsh was the kind of guy who drew people to him.  The man had tons of charisma and personality for days.  All of that and a heavily worked-out bod.  He was the total package.  Those on the outside, looking in, who didn’t know Tony very well, thought Tony was definite grade-A marriage material.  In fact, he’d had a few people try to introduce him to some desperately single woman who was looking for a man like Tony to cling to at night in bed.  He’d always humor the well-meaning acquaintance and go on the date, but nothing ever happened.  Tony knew he wasn’t marriage material.  All he wanted to do was fuck.  And it wasn’t pussy that he wanted to fuck.

Those who knew Tony well and those he considered himself close to knew about his sexuality…even the regular crew of guys he worked out with at his gym.  He knew not everyone in the crew was down with his lifestyle, but because of how his personality lit up whatever room he was in, he was easily considered “one of the guys.”

On the other hand, he also knew that some of the guys in the crew longed to swing on his dick…like the guy over at the squat rack, Jimmy Romero.  Tony couldn’t help but notice that Jimmy’s focus seemed to be on him and his shirtless chest when he was between sets.  By the same token, when Tony was between sets on the bench press, he couldn’t take his eyes off of Jimmy, going heavy and going deep with those squats.  Damn, the guy had a great ass!  All Tony could picture was himself flat on the floor with his dick sticking straight up in the air underneath Jimmy, impaling himself on Tony’s dick as he squatted down during each rep…in and out, up and down, in and out, up and down.  Tony shook his head to knock himself out of the trance.  If he wasn’t careful, he was gonna give himself a hard on right there.  When he was on the gym floor, working out was all Tony wanted to focus on.  After all, without a tight, muscular body, he wouldn’t be able to pull all the chasers anymore that he’d been pulling lately.

A few minutes later, he had just raised up from taking a drink at the water fountain and turned around when he came face to face with Jimmy.  “Hey, Jimmy!  How’s it goin’, man?!”  The two gave each other a ‘bro handshake’ and grinned.

“Not bad, Tone.  Not bad…  Just gettin’ in a good leg workout tonight.”

“Yeah.  Tonight’s upper-body night for me.”  As he spoke, Tony surveyed Jimmy’s body.   Not quite as muscular as Tony, Jimmy looked damn good.  He was probably about 10 years Tony’s junior.  If he kept at it, he could look like Tony one day.

“Yeah, Tone.  I noticed you benching some heavy weights over there tonight.  You’re lookin’ good, man!”  When Jimmy reached over and squeezed Tony’s bicep, an electricity ran through Tony’s body.  Even though he believed in the separation of gym and bedroom, Tony felt his dick start to stir to life as the younger man pawed at his arm.  His eyes drifted down and noticed a larger-than-usual bulge in Jimmy’s shorts.  Maybe he’d have to rethink his policy on not looking within his workout crew for hookups.

“Oh, you know me, Jimmy.  I just do what I do.  Tryin’ to keep this old-ass body in the best shape I can…”

“Old?” Jimmy laughed.  “You’re what?  35, 36?  That’s not old!”

Outwardly, Tony mockingly rolled his eyes at the cheesy, cliche ‘kiss-ass’ compliment Jimmy had just made.  Inwardly, he felt a surge of pride - and hormones.  The two were definitely engaged in cruising each other.  It all depended on how far they were willing to take it.  The way Tony felt right now, he was willing to take it as far as it would go.  “Kiss ass!” Tony laughed back at Jimmy.  “You know damn well I’m in my 50s!”

“Just tryin’ to make you feel good, Tone.  You know me…”

The guy was obviously hard up and making a play for Tony.  There was no doubt Jimmy was full-on flirting with the older man.  Tony responded in kind.  “You know what they say about flattery, Jimmy my boy…”

“That it’ll get you nowhere?”

“That’s usually the case.  But right now, I’m thinkin’ flattery might get you somewhere, after all.”

Jimmy’s eyes widened and Tony could see the desire in them as he surveyed Tony’s body.  He was sure Jimmy would see the stirring in his shorts.  “Yeah, Tone?”

Tony smirked at Jimmy and turned to head for the locker room.  He’d taken a few steps when he turned over his shoulder.  “I think I’m done out here for the night.  It’s time to hit the showers.”  He took another few steps and then turned back to see Jimmy still standing there, bug-eyed and his dick starting tent out his shorts obscenely.  “You wanna join me and see where flattery might get you?”

In a flash, Jimmy was hot on Tony’s trail into the locker room.  As they each stood at their lockers, getting out various items they’d need, they openly ogled each other.  Jimmy removed his shirt, showing off a decently-defined chest.  Tony observed that, if he kept at it, the guy had potential to be a real stud like him someday.  Tony reached up and hooked his thumbs inside the waistband of his shorts to pull them down under the watchful and lustful eye of the younger stud when he thought of something.  He didn’t want to rush things with Jimmy.  He wanted whatever this was going to be - a fuck, a mutual blowjob, or just a handjob - to last…and that meant that he didn’t want them to have to worry about anyone barging in on them.  He stopped what he was doing.  “Hey, Jimmy.  I just realized I left my water bottle out on the floor.  Why don’t you head on into the shower room and I’ll join you in a minute?”

He saw disappointment on the kid’s face.  It was actually kinda cute.  He didn’t even realize just how fuckable he was…how hot Tony was for him.  To reassure him, Tony walked up, put his hand on Jimmy’s bare shoulder, smiled at him, and looked him in the eye.  “I’ll be there in just a minute.  I promise.”

Jimmy immediately started beaming from ear to ear again.  “Sure thing, Tone!  I’ll get the water warm for you.”

As Tony walked back out to the gym floor, he knew his dick was tenting out his shorts.  He didn’t even care.  Ensuring that he and Jimmy would have some privacy was more important to him at that moment than any amount of decorum.  There were only five other guys in the gym that night and, when Tony walked out of the locker room, they were all holding court over by the lat pull machine, having some sort of conversation that Tony couldn’t have cared less about.  He was halfway over to the group when he called out to them.  “Hey, ladies!  How about you do what you came here to do and pump some iron instead of spending your time clucking like a bunch of hens!”

The men turned to look at Tony and each of them registered varying levels of surprise when they saw the obscene display in his shorts.  One of the men even laughed, “Hey, Tony.  I know you might be hard-up and all.  But my wife’ll be pissed at me if she finds out I let you fuck me tonight.”

“You wish, Peterson!” Tony laughed back at the man, who was a good friend.  “You couldn’t handle this!” he pawed at the bulge in his shorts.  “Listen, I need you bunch of assholes to steer clear of the locker room for the next half an hour or forty-five minutes or so…and do me a favor and keep any new arrivals from heading in there too.”

Peterson grinned at Tony.  “What?  You want some privacy to beat your meat there, Tone?”

“Nah, man.”  Tony laughed.  “I only do that when you’re on your knees with your mouth open and waiting an I’m standing over you!”  All the men laughed, except Peterson, who blushed a little bit and looked to Tony as if he might have been trying to picture what that would look like.  Tony would have to remember that for the future…  “Look…  Jimmy and I want to have some private time and I don’t want to rush things with him to keep from having one of you fuckers barge in on us and ruin the moment.”

The men looked at each other knowingly and Peterson piped up again.  “No worries, Tone.  We got your back, buddy.”

Tony was surprised when another of the men, Steve Russell, spoke up.  “What if we want to come watch?”  Steve was the one guy in the regular crew that Tony didn’t know quite as well.  He was married with five kids…one of those guys who goes to church every Sunday - sometimes twice a week - and sits right in the front row…always had an opinion about sexuality and, at the most, only seemed barely tolerant of the fact that Tony’s gay.  It was a surprise that the real life version of Ned Flanders from The Simpsons would make a remark like that.

“This time, I don’t want an audience, Stevie.  But next time it happens, I’ll let you know so you can have a front row seat to see how I satisfy a man…you know, just in case you wanna take a turn with me someday, buddy.”

He smirked at the religious man and then turned and headed back toward the locker room, leaving the man slack-jawed in shock.  As he walked away, he heard a couple of the men wish him luck.  When he re-entered the locker room, Jimmy was nowhere to be seen, but he heard the water of the shower running.  As Tony peeled down his shorts, letting his - by now - rock hard dick finally have some breathing room, he felt a surge of excitement.  Not only was he about to get some action for the first time in at least a week…  But he was also hoping, if all went well, he’d be able to get in the ass he’d been admiring that whole evening.