It’s been a slow month sexually with nothing outside of the regular, average swinger’s party and husband sex. Lately, I’ve just done my daily routine — work, home, sleep and repeat — but I try to fit in gym visits at different times, based on my freedom. I never know when I’ll be free to play or with whom so I try to keep my eyes open and use my time correctly. 

I usually go to the gym around three times a week and I've sometimes had luck meeting nice guys there. I'm always aware of who is watching me and, of course, there are plenty of guys. One I often see, judging by the way he’s dressed, looks like he's from the eighties. He’s always smiling and says “Hi” but what I really notice about him is the huge bulge in his shorts or sweats. It’s around lunchtimes or after dinner that I see him, and I kind of giggle at his clothes. 

Thursday, my husband was going to the Bruins game, and I went straight to the gym from work. I changed outfits in the locker room and only older soccer mom douchebags were there, the typical mid-forty to sixty-year-old bottle blondes with no asses who eat only sushi and salads. 

I always start on the treadmill and when I went into the big room, I saw the eighties guy was there. He was away from the women and others as if he had the plague. I’m not shy, so I took the machine next to him. 

He was power walking and I said, “Hi,” and began programming my machine.

“Hi,” he said. “It's busy here tonight.”

“Yeah, but mostly that sort,” and nodded at the older blondes.

”Ah, the Stepford Wives.” He laughed.

“Hmm… the local snobbery.”

As we power walked and sweated to the loud music, he introduced himself as Ray and I touched his hand and said, “Hey, I'm Lindsay. Nice to meet you.”

I asked if he was from here but he was originally from upstate New York and had moved to be near his married son. We made small talk before I shut down my machine and drank some water.

“Two weight machines, then the bike, and that’s it for me,” I said and Ray said he'd catch up with me later. I glanced at his bulge and knew that man was either hung or deformed. 

I did my routine on the machines and I noticed Ray was walking around trying not to be caught staring at me through the mirrors. I went to the bike, smiled at him, and he took the one beside me. 

He asked, “What’s your story?”

“Well, married… no kids, shitty job. What’s yours?”

He said, “Fat and losing weight,” adding that he was fifty-five and his doctor said he was prediabetic. 

“I like to keep in shape,” I told him and he took that as an invitation to say I was in “perfect shape.” Smiling, I thanked him and we spent the next fifteen minutes making fun of the other people in the room. I grew to like him enough to say, “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Anything,” he said.

“Don't get mad but I really have to know — are you hung like a bull or something? Your sweats always have that bulge.”

Ray laughed and said, “Yeah, I’m sorry, there's not much I can do to cover that up. I don't mean to offend you.”

“I’ve wondered about it for some time and I'm sure others have as well.” I grinned at him. “Maybe you need to buy some gym clothes from this generation and not from when you were in college.”

We both laughed and, as I finished my ride, he said he was glad I'd told him. He’d been unaware of the problem.

“Oh, come on,” I said, “you had to know about that massive lump.” 

He said he wasn't ashamed or bothered what people thought. I agreed with him as I wiped my brow with a towel and said, “Well, you’re very lucky.”

“Why?”

“To be so hung.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “When I was married, she didn't think so.”

“Oh,” I said. “Well, I’m done now.”

“It was nice to meet you, Lindsay.”

“Likewise, Ray.”

As I walked away, I wondered: How hung is he? I turned and said, “Hey, Ray, wanna get a drink?”

“I wanted to ask you the same thing,” he said, “but I wasn't sure I should ask, due to your circumstances.”

I suggested the name of a bar in my town and he said, “Awesome. I live nearby.”

In the locker room showers, I gave my ass and vagina an extra washing —cause ‘ya never know’. I drove to the bar and said hello to some people as I sat waiting to see if Ray would show.

Twenty minutes later he arrived, dressed in jeans and a tee shirt that said something about golf. Sitting next to me, he ordered scotch and another of what I was drinking. 

We drank and, during the small talk, he said he was a patent lawyer and divorced. I tried to look at his bulge but it was well hidden. I said, “Well, your bulge isn't so bad in jeans.”

He laughed and said, “You’ve looked, haven’t you?”

“Of course,” I said.

He drank his scotch and said, “How would you feel if I stared at your ass?”

“You do,” I said but he denied it. “Uh-uh, yes you do. I see you at the gym looking through the mirrors.”

“Okay, you caught me,“ he confessed. “But can you blame me? It’s either guys, or those women, or me.”

“Well, I'm flattered.”

“It’s tough these days to stare at women and not get bad looks.”

“I like it,” I said, “when you look at me in the same way that I look at you.”

“Well, I’m surprised to hear that,” he said, “because nobody ever talks to me at the gym.”

 “You need different gym clothes,” I said and he grinned.

“I agree… but you should help me pick them out.”

“Hmm, okay. But there’s something you have to tell me: how big is it?”

“Really? You really wanna know? ”

I nodded and he said, “How big d’you think? Go on, have a guess.”

“Eight,” I said but thinking it had to be bigger.

Now he laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, no,” he said.

“Oh, come on,” I said, “if it was more than eight, I’d suck it.”

 “Really? Well then, you'd be sucking because I'm bigger than that.”

“Right, tell me then.”

“No, Lindsay. No telling — I’ll only show you.”

“And when would you do that?”

“Whenever you want,” he said. “I live just around the corner. So, when we’re done here if you like.”

I smiled as he downed his second scotch and I finished my wine. “I'm ready,” I said.

“You serious?”

“Yes, I am. Let’s go,” I said and off we went to his home with a Mercedes in the drive. 

He turned on the light and said, “Can I get you a drink? Wine?”

I said, “I’ll have what you’re having, please.”

“Scotch it is,” he said and poured me a glass. As we sat on the couch, he asked, “What would your husband think about you being here with me?”

“I don't know and don't care. He's not here and are you going to tell him?”

He shook his head and touched my leg.

Grinning, I said, "How long are you gonna make we wait?”

“Right. You said you'd suck it if it was over eight. Is that still a deal?"

“I did say that, didn't I?” 

“You did — but what I do I get for this?" he said, pulling his monster through his unzipped jeans. “It’s over ten inches long.”

I smiled, staring at it. “Wow,” I said but it wasn’t so much the length that got me, it was the girth. Ray was so thick it looked like it weighed ten pounds!

Ray was not timid. He kicked off his shoes, stepped out of his jeans, then his boxers and brought his cock to my face.

“My god, who would ever divorce you?” I said and began stroking it, feeling its weight. “Oh my god,” I mumbled as it rose and hit me in the face.

“Suck!” Ray said, pushing my head to it.

It stretched my mouth and I gobbled as best I could while he thrust forward, keeping his hand on my head.

“You like my cock, Lindsay?”

I mumbled — it was impossible to talk with my mouth so full — and cupped his balls as I did my best to swallow as much of his huge weapon as possible. We got a good pace going till he pulled out and slapped it on my face, leaving a trail of pre-cum on my cheek. 

At his request, I stood and removed my clothes. He then asked me to sit on the couch and he got between my legs, going down on me like a cat to a bowl of cream. He began fingering me hard, making me sopping wet by alternating fingers and tongue. He was super-focused on me.

As if he had planned it from the beginning, he took my hand and guided me to the bedroom where I lay in silence. He mounted me missionary and pointed his thermos-like cock at me. 

“Your husband have a cock like this?”

“No, sir,” I said and gasped when he went in deep and immediately started pounding me. It only took four or five strokes of his thick rod for me to cum and he sniggered. 

“Good girl,” he said and raised my legs. He kept going, telling me I was “so beautiful” but he slowed down, a film of sweat forming, and I guessed he was tuckered. So, I pushed him over and sat on it reverse cowgirl.

He groaned as I took him all the way in and I came again, crying out this time. He felt like a black man but thicker. I slid off him and he was moaning, saying that he was close. I asked where he wanted to cum; he chose my face and tits.

I lay on my back so that he could kneel before me. I fondled his balls and leaned forward to suck his throbbing cock while he stroked it. I felt him tense and he let go of a load that blanketed my face and chest. It felt so good I rubbed it in and tasted some while he held me, battling to catch his breath.

He confessed that he’d dreamed about that for a few weeks, that I was his favorite at the gym, and he hated blondes. I stroked his limp cock which was still very big and fat. 

“We should do this again,” he suggested.

“I’d like that,” I said and confessed that my man and I are swingers with a ‘don't ask, don't tell’ rule. He agreed to be discreet as we live close by. 

“Oh, by the way," I said, "if you ever think about going in my ass, you’d better have lots of lube.”

He said nobody had ever let him do that and I said I’d let him — but he'd have to lube it, fuck it, and not stop till he finished or it hurt. 

I cleaned his dry cum off me while he said we had to go shopping for his new gym wear. I promised to get him something and bring it to him.

Ray then asked if he could kiss me and, even though he isn't an attractive man, I kissed him and gave him my email address.

I drove home feeling very stretched and happy. I took a shower and was a little sore but still horny. I checked my email and, sure enough, there was a message from Ray saying he’d had a great time. I replied with a picture of my pussy and wrote, I miss you already. 

I definitely will be seeing him again.