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Your Son Might Surprise You

Category:  ATHLETIC 

Cowritten with: Tom R

JUNE 2012 | MARK:

    Apparently, my son was right in that mutual accountability would help us a lot when it comes to working out. Usually, my New Year's resolutions never made it to February. This year, summer had started and Logan and I were still regularly seeing our personal trainer every single week. I don't know if it was the fact that our trainer was Owen, or that I was doing this together with my son, or that I would be turning 50 later this year, which was starting to feel like a fire under my ass; but for once, I was actually sticking with a health routine. I was even drinking kale smoothies now (!); as embarrassed as I was to admit it.

    Even though Logan and I enjoyed our regimen, we would have to put it on hold for a few weeks during the summer. Both our wives loved leaving the city as much as possible, so there were several upcoming trips planned. Because of the complicated schedule, we'd decided to put our workout sessions with Owen on hold until September.

    After our last session before "summer break," Owen made us promise to stay as active as possible during the summer. I watched him exchange a big, sweaty hug with my son, who had to leave quickly because he had plans with my daughter-in-law. Even though I was usually the first to leave, this time, Owen and I were left alone. 

    "Do you have time to grab something to drink at the café?" I asked Owen.

    "Sure, I could take a 15-minute break," he said, and signaled to one of the other trainers to let her know.

    "C'mon. Green smoothie on me," I said, and wiping my forehead with my towel, I led the way to the overpriced café at the gym. There, I waited at the counter while Owen went and grabbed us a table. When I turned around, I realized he was sitting next to the couple I'd jerked off with in the sauna once; the guy with the pierced nips and his hairy partner. I made sure not to make eye contact with anyone but Owen as I sat down.

    "I talked to your dad yesterday," I told Owen, handing him his drink.

    "Oh, really? Where are you guys off to this summer?"

    "It's funny, that's exactly what we were talking about. We're getting together in New Orleans. That's where C.J.'s from."

    "Ooh, fun," he said before taking a sip. The large drink looked tiny in Owen's big, manly hand.

    "You sure you don't wanna join us?" I asked.

    "Nah, I can't. I gotta work. Plus I got some plans with friends of mine."

    "It's too bad you stopped coming," I said, sincerely. "It's been a while."

    "Yeah," Owen agreed. "Since the year I graduated high school. We went to Vegas that summer."

    "You should come," I said nostalgically.

    "You're one to speak! At least I joined you for a few years. Why didn't you ever bring Logan along?!"

    "Because... unlike your dad, I was afraid of showing Logan that side of me. The human side. I wanted him to look at me as just his 'father.' Otherwise, he might lose respect for me."

    I surprised myself with my own honesty, but after seeing Owen every Thursday for months, he was starting to feel like a close friend. Besides, I'd noticed he and my son had also struck quite a friendship.

    "Well, that's bullshit," Owen said. "I can see why you felt that way, but there was no need. Logan's a cool guy. You shouldn't be afraid to let him in."

    "Yeah. The older I get the more I see that," I said, thinking again of my upcoming 50th.

    "It's never too late," Owen smirked.

    "What, for inviting Logan to our get-togethers with all the buddies?"

    "And for getting closer to him here in New York. But the get-togethers as well. He sounds pretty busy this summer, but maybe next year? Hell, maybe I'll join you then as well."

    I nodded.

    "Your son might surprise you," Owen added cryptically. 

    "I'll think about it," I said, followed by a moment of silence in which Owen and I both sucked on our smoothies.

    During that moment, the two guys at the table next to us got up. They were also sweaty after their workout and hadn't hit the showers yet.

    "C'mon. Let's go to the sauna!" the guy with the pierced nipples said loudly, but he seemed to be looking at Owen and me rather than his partner when he said that. The two men headed out, and I couldn't help but check out their asses as they walked away. They were both wearing short shorts, which clung to their sweaty glutes like a second skin.

    "A few weeks ago, your son and I were in the hot tub," Owen said out of nowhere, "and those two came to join us," he said, pointing at the two men. "It was late at night, and long story short: they started fucking right there."

    "No!" I shouted in genuine shock. "Not in front of you and Logan?!"

    "Yes in front of me and Logan," Owen smirked. "That's what I mean, your son might surprise you."

    "And he didn't have a problem with seeing it?" I felt bewildered.

    "Not unless you consider getting a boner 'a problem.'"

    This just kept getting crazier. If I didn't trust Owen, I'd think he was making this up.

    "B– But Logan's straight," I mumbled.

    "So what? Straight men are allowed boners. Besides, he's fooled around with guys in the past."

    Good thing I was already sitting down, otherwise I might collapse from surprise.

    "H– How do you know?"
   "He told me. And I shouldn't be telling you, it's not my story to tell. But I'm only doing it because I really want you to stop worrying about your son or your family or anyone else getting to know you, the real you."

    He reached over and took my hand tenderly. I immediately started to calm down.

    "I... I... thank you for telling me this," I said.

    "It's okay. And Mark, if you ever wanna talk about anything... I'm here for you."

    We both got up. Owen's break was almost over. And I had a lot to think about.

    "You headed home?" Owen asked me as we left the café.

    "Yes," I answered, still imagining the sight of two men fucking in front of my son. "But I think I'll check out the sauna first. I wonder if those two guys are still there."



    Turns out, what my father and I needed at this point of life was a mutual activity. For years now, our conversations had become all about business, and politics, and family responsibilities. There was no more throwing a ball around or teaching me how to ride a bike. And... well, I missed that.

    Luckily, personal training with Owen was just what we needed, which is why we stuck with it for so long. The workouts themselves were great, but it was also such a social activity for the three of us to get together. Thanks to it, I'd become friends with both Owen and my father.   

    After a couple of months off for the summer, Dad and I were back to the gym every Thursday. And by the time the middle of October rolled up, there was no doubt that I would be inviting Owen to my birthday party.

    My 25th birthday fell on a Thursday, but my party wouldn't be until that weekend. So on my birthday, I went to the gym as scheduled with Dad. I'd already had lunch with my wife and kids that day, and the plan was to have dinner with my father. That evening, Dad took both Owen and me out for a meal after our workout. 

    After a large dinner with plenty of wine, Dad had to go home and pass out, but Owen and I were still in a party mood. We went together to one bar, and then another. Next thing I know, we were taking a cab to Owen's place to have "one final drink" there before I headed home.

    I'd never been to Owen's, and walking into his apartment felt surprisingly exciting (granted, it might've been due to my tipsiness). I would get a glimpse into his style, his tastes, his world. He'd dropped plenty of hints that he got laid pretty often, and I knew he lived with another gay guy. I'd even gathered that Owen fucked his roommate now and then. The casual and friendly nature of that titillated me, and even turned me on. I loved my family and wouldn't change anything about my life, but sometimes I did wonder what it would be like to be single at my age, to have friends that I sometimes had sex with. A few of my other male friends had women like that in their lives, "friends with benefits." My wife and I had gotten together so young, and she was the only friend with benefits I'd ever had.

    Owen clicked on a few lights and said something about his roommate Kyle bartending until late tonight. He disappeared around a corner into the kitchen area, and I heard the clinking of glasses as I looked around. The place was decorated in a sparse but deliberate way, with only a few wall decorations and small plants accenting the furniture. A large TV dominated the living room, and sat in a nice TV cabinet and shelf unit, with books and a few trinkets filling the other spaces. I noticed a rainbow-hued glass sculpture on one shelf, and wondered if that belonged to Owen or Kyle.

    "Bottoms up," a voice behind me said, startling me a little in my somewhat drunken state. I turned and saw Owen reaching out to me with a glass of whiskey. As I took it, I noticed ice in his glass but not in mine. "Did he remember that I like mine neat?" I thought to myself. I felt my face flush as I thought about how nice that felt; how considerate that he knew how I liked a drink.

    We sat down on opposite ends of the couch, and when I saw Owen kick off his shoes, I did the same. "One final drink," I reminded myself as I gently sipped my whiskey. Owen again mentioned how cool it was that my dad and I had gotten closer over the year. The three of us had talked about that at dinner, and both Dad and I let Owen know we credited him with a lot of that. For the first time ever, I had a friend in common with my father.

    I joked that Owen could offer services as a family therapist or a life coach in addition to the fitness training. He laughed and remarked that he and his roommate had talked about how they both had jobs where they often ended up hearing about people's personal ups and downs and offering advice, even though it wasn't in their job description.

    "Well, you should charge extra for it," I said. We smiled at each other in a moment of silence. Feeling curious and emboldened, I decided to take advantage of the situation and get to know my buddy even better, on a more personal level.

    "So, you said you and your roommate have fucked around?" I asked candidly. I was pleased to see Owen laugh and let his head roll backward, seeming like the subject really amused him.

    "Oh, we have fun now and then," he answered nonchalantly. "Sometimes it's quick and more out of convenience, I think, and other times it's hot as fuck." He nodded as he said that last part, and looked like he was thinking back on something pleasant. "I've known Kyle almost since I first moved to New York, and we've never had drama or anything. He's a good friend."

    "Do you guys ever have three-ways?" I asked, now even surprising myself with my candor a little bit. Truth was, threesomes were something else I felt like I'd missed out on, getting married so young. My wife wasn't necessarily opposed to the idea, but with the kids around, it wasn't easy organizing something like that. If there was anyone I could talk to about that, it was Owen. And I really wanted to hear some more sordid details from his personal life.

    "Oh yeah, that happens more than anything when it comes to Kyle and me," Owen replied casually. "One of us usually has a guy over a few times a week. Sometimes you make it to the bedroom before you get going... Other times you're fucking on the couch when your roommate gets home and joins in." 

    He cracked up little as he said that.

    "Really?!" I was amused and took another sip, before probing for more details. "So he's walked in on you?" I felt myself start to get hard in my pants, but I didn't care if Owen noticed. It's not like he hadn't seen me hard before.

    "He's walked in on me. I've walked in on him. Other people have walked in on us."    

    "When did that happen?" I asked, turned on by the open and casual nature of this conversation. Owen paused, probably deciding if he should tell me the story. He looked down (did he notice my boner?), then continued.

    "Well... 'Bout five years ago, after I moved to New York," he said, then paused again and laughed. "My dad walked in on me and Kyle."

    "Oh wow," I said, shocked that Kevin had come up in this conversation. Then I realized that Owen might only be starting the story. "Oh shit... did you... I mean, did he...?"

    "Yup," Owen nodded, doing kind of a cocky half-smile. "Dad and I nailed Kyle at both ends."

    "Holy shit!" I exclaimed. That really blew my mind for a moment. Kevin, who I'd known my whole life, would do something like that?!

    My first thought was to wonder who got which end. I could see all the possible scenarios in my mind already. It was wild enough to have a threesome, but to have one with your father?! In my horny, drunken state, suddenly I got a visual of my dad and me with a hot woman, him fucking her and me with my cock in her mouth. Pulling her hair while I made eye contact with Dad. My cock was now fully hard and my hand was groping it before I realized it was happening.

    "How did that all come about?" I asked Owen, aware that he could see me squeezing my crotch.

    "How about you whip that out and stroke it while I tell you the story?" he replied. This was the in-charge Owen I usually saw. I felt my heart racing and, feeling obedient, I unzipped my pants.

    Owen told me about that day, and I found my mind on two separate tracks. I was listening to my friend tell me this truly wild story, that sounded more like a porno movie than anything else. Kevin coming out of the shower and catching his son fucking his roommate. Simultaneously, I was replaying that scene in my head, but recast with me, my dad and the hot woman. This time it was me fucking her and Dad getting sucked. Still, hot as hell to think about, and I realized I might cum soon. 

    I slowed down a little as Owen finished his tale, and then stopped stroking altogether for a moment when I saw Owen reach down and open up his fly. A moment later, his huge cock was on display, jutting out from the opening in his black pants. With his dress shirt on, his huge muscles making the fabric stretch and the sexy smile on his face, he looked like he was on an R-rated GQ magazine cover. As Owen started stroking himself, I resumed jerking off as well.

    "Are you thinking about you and your dad doing that to some chick?" Owen asked, as if he could read my mind. His eyes were locked on me. I secretly appreciated the eye contact, since it helped me not stare at his impressive cock.

    "How'd you guess?" I said, smiling. It seemed like Owen knew more about me than just my drink order. He looked like he was about to answer my question, but decided to say something else instead.

    "Think you two might ever get to do that?" Owen asked, cocking his head but still looking right at me.

    "Probably not," I said, still stroking and imagining the scene again in my head. "It's hot to think about, but neither of us would ever..." I trailed off, thinking "Would I? Would HE?"

    "You never know what might happen," Owen said playfully. "I mean, is this how you thought tonight would end?" He gestured at his groin, and then at my own crotch.

    "Fuck... No, I sure didn't," I said, suddenly feeling really turned on again. Owen slowed his stroking and I couldn't help but stare at his swollen cock. I realized he was looking at mine as well, and that got me even more worked up. Then, I saw Owen quickly scoot toward me on the couch with one fluid motion. My eyes followed his hand as he reached for my cock.

    "It's fun when life surprises you," he said quietly, and I let go of my cock as he took over jerking it. I moaned loudly and threw my head back. I felt my cock spasm and the surges of pleasure roll through my body. I started to cum, lost in my climax, enjoying this surprising development.

    After a moment, I pulled my head back up, let out a breath and looked down to see Owen's hand slowly moving up and down my hard cock. It was covered with cum, more than I expected to see. A last small surge came up and ran down his knuckles. My eyes went to Owen's face and he looked happy as a clam. Not in the way I did — I noticed Owen was still hard and he definitely hadn't shot his load. I knew he was just genuinely happy to have helped me cum.

    My friend gave my cock a last, gentle tug, scooping up all the jizz I'd shot. We both sat back to catch our breath.

    "Thanks for that, buddy," I said, slightly out of breath.

    "You're welcome. See you August 2nd."

    "What?" I was confused.

    "That's my birthday," Owen said with a grin. "You owe me a handjob then."

    "Deal," I chuckled and offered him my hand.

    Owen accepted it, and I realized he still had my cum all over his hand. We shook hands like that for a few seconds, before he got up to bring us a towel.

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