Page 5 of Master Daddy

Still, I don’t think Luke picked up on it.

“Fine. See you tomorrow,” Luke says as he picks up his panda-design water bottle and heads toward the locker room.

As he walks away, I can’t help but cast a glance over toward him. Holy hell, that is one of the sweetest asses I’ve seen in a long time. This boy has been putting the time in on the glutes training, that’s for sure. But as well as being in shape, there’s a softness to him too, just right for getting my hands all over and…

“Nope, not gonna happen,” I growl to myself. “Now enough of the bullshit fantasies, this bench won’t lift itself.”

And with that, I get down onto the bench.

For Luke, this might have represented a dangerously heavy personal best attempt.

But for me? It’s barely a warmup…

* * *

One hour later and I’m in the locker room, naked as the day I was born. I grab my towel and bottle of mint lime shower gel and head toward the showers.

If I was here with Connor or one of my other Daddy friends I’d probably hit the communal shower so we could all talk and crack wise about whatever the hell was going on in our lives at the time.

But seeing as it’s just me—and I don’t want to end up getting dragged into a never-ending conversation with a stranger—I opt for the privacy of a private stall.

I turn the shower on, and the cubicle quickly heats up and fills with steam and the hot water powers down.

“Hell yeah, I needed this,” I say, my body already aching from a session where I pushed my chest and shoulders to their absolute limits.

They say that the older you get, the more recovery time you need after lifting heavy weights. And I can certainly vouch for that theory. But there’s no way I’m ever going to take my foot off the gas when it comes to pushing myself in the gym.

And as for all that fancy-ass yoga, mobility, and stretching bullshit? You can miss me with that. As far as I’m concerned, the best recovery technique involves several bottles of ice-cold beer, a double cheeseburger, and multiple games of darts down at the Woody Hollow with my fellow Daddy buddies.

But as I begin to wash my body with the shower gel, my mind turns to Luke…

That ass.

The way he moved, those eyes, those lips too…

Fuck…

Before I know it, my cock is rock-hard and standing to attention in a way that I just can’t ignore. It’s a good job I chose the private cubicle, let’s put it that way.

I look down and see the sight of my erection throbbing as the water blasts down onto it. My balls feel heavy and tighten as I imagine that scenario I conjured earlier of Luke bent over the bench, his ass presented for punishment.

After checking that my cubicle door is locked, I grab the base of my cock in one hand and with my other hand squirt a thick line of extra shower gel down my head and shaft.

It feels good. Like, seriously fucking good.

Soon enough, I’m wanking my dick to thoughts of Luke nude on a whole selection of the gym’s machines. I see his breasts jiggle as I work him over on the leg curl machine, and then imagine how hot it would be to bounce his ass up and down on my cock in front of the large wall-to-wall mirrors in the free weights area…

“Fuck!”

I grunt as I look down and watch thick ropes of cum shoot from my dick and disappear into the cascades of water around me. I keep pumping on my cock until every last drop is drained.

This might only be a fantasy, but I don’t recall the last time a bout of self-pleasure felt so all-consumingly satisfying.

“Wow, okay, well that was certainly something,” I say, leaning back against the tiled wall and allowing myself a moment to breath as my semi-hard cock bobs and twitches, still stimulated from the hottest fantasy I’ve conjured in many a year.

I’ve committed to training Luke, and there’s no going back from that.

But I need to make sure that this fantasy was a one-time thing.