"Three. Two. One. Good job," Curt said as he helped guide the barbell back to the rack.
"Can we be done now?" Frank asked after taking a deep breath.
Curt shook his head. "Come on, Dad. You've got one more set to do."
"Not today, man." Frank stretched his sore muscles. "I can't do it. I didn't sleep well last night and I'm exhausted."
Curt knew his father wasn't just trying to get out of exercising. He had heard the man tossing and turning most of the night in their shared hotel room. He had even seen his father nod off during a talk he had been excited for at the convention they were attending. "Fine. But next time you're doing an extra set."
"I don't think so," Frank said with authority.
"Yes, you will," Curt responded sternly.
Frank stood and looked his son in his green-hazel eyes. "I can still put you over my knee, kid."
Curt met the cold, green-eyed stare without fear. Matching his father's height of five feet eleven inches, twenty-three-year-old Curt outweighed his father by fifty pounds of muscle on his similarly lean frame. He wasn't bodybuilder big but was swollen enough that people knew he did more than work out casually. After a beat, he raised an eyebrow and asked, "You threatening me, old man?"
"No, just making a statement," Frank replied as he quickly put an arm around his son's neck and pulled Curt's head down to give him a noogie before releasing him.
Through a boyish laugh that contrasted with his size and age, Curt said, "Let's go get showered."
Under the water of the gym's showers Curt looked over his father. For over a year they had been working out together and he was impressed by the change in the fifty-two-year-old. What had once been a soft "dad bod" was now a body that could pass for a man decades younger. At least it could if it weren't for the forest of dark hair covering it that was more than half gray. Curt found the coloring odd considering that the thick, almost black hair on his father's head had only a handful of silver strands. "Looking really good, Dad. You've really changed."
"Thanks," Frank said. "Your mother is afraid that I'm doing this because I want to go out and find a younger woman."
Curt glared at him. "You better not."
Frank laughed. "No worries. I'll leave the younger women to the other guys. Besides, if I did find one, I wouldn't stand a chance of keeping her after she got a look at you."
Whether it was intentional or not, Frank saw his son flex his arms and chest slightly while simultaneously blushing in response to the compliment.
"If I even thought about another woman, Deanna would kick my ass," Curt said referring to his own wife. "Especially now that we've got that second one on the way."
As they continued washing and chatting about Deanna's pregnancy Frank took a moment to openly admire his son's physique. It was solid and rippled with what seemed like picture perfect definition. Even though the spray of water hit him evenly over his head and torso, it collected and flowed down his body in the channels formed by the crevices between the muscle groups. Of his three children, Curt, the middle child, looked most like him. They both shared the same pug nose and full lips, however Curt's face was slightly longer than Frank's round one, an obvious result of his mother's genetic influence. Enhancing their similar appearance, their hair was styled with the same side part, though Curt's hair was a light brown color, also received from his mother.
"Ready for the steam room?" Frank asked as he shut off his water.
"Yeah. Sure." Curt turned his shower off. "Let's go."
They each grabbed one of the gym's white towels and wrapped it around their waist as they made the short journey.
"Looks like we might have some competition," Curt said as he opened the door of the steam room.
Frank gave him a sly smile as he heard the loud slapping of flesh, curses and sustained moans coming from at least three different guys hidden in the dense fog. He reached under Curt's towel and gave his son's hard ass a squeeze. "I don't mind if you don't."
Curt leaned in and gave his father a kiss. "I'm cool with it."
After moving through a short entry way, they entered the large, square room. Around the perimeter slightly more than four feet off the ground and again about two feet below that, the tile wall jutted out to form two levels of continuous benches. Through the warm mist they saw a handful of men lounging on them, some with towels over their crotches, some completely exposed. An island, which was at a level slightly higher than the lowest one around the perimeter, was in the center of the room to provide additional seating. From there came the source of the erotic sounds.
Stretched out on his back was a guy being fucked by one man while another used his mouth. Straddling the chest of the guy on his back, a fourth man was face fucking the guy using the ass of the man below him. Around them stood a few other guys openly stroking their dicks.
Frank and Curt found space on the wall that would accommodate both of them. Because of the way the other men were seated around the room, the next closest gym patron was slightly more than an arm's length away from them. As soon as they were seated, they each reached out a hand and slid it under the other's towel. Without a word, they watched the action in the center of the room while stroking each other to hardness.
Curt was the first to open his father's towel. With Frank's eight inches out in the open, he slowed his fist to watch the foreskin slide up and down over the blunt head. It was on the thick side but his large hand easily encircled it. "I don't think I'll ever tire of seeing this thing. You got a hot fucking cock."
Frank peeled open Curt's towel and said, "Yours isn't so bad, either." Nearly identical, Curt's dick had the same soft upward curve and thick, veiny shaft as his but was slightly longer. There was already a bead of precum at the tip and not standing on ceremony, Frank leaned over to taste his son. Though they had just showered, he could still taste and smell muskiness trapped in Curt's foreskin as well as fresh sweat that was already beginning to appear on his body. It was a sharp contrast to the mild sweetness of the slick fluid slowly seeping out of his piss slit.
"Oh, fuck," Curt said after letting out a soft moan. He continued to stroke his Frank's dick as he placed his other hand on his father's head. As he looked down to watch his father slowly fellate him, Curt ran his fingers through his father's wet hair without controlling his movements.
Feeling temporarily satiated, Frank pulled off Curt's cock with an intentional wet sound. "You always taste good."
"I think maybe I should be the judge of that." Curt leaned in and pressed his lips to his father's then pushed his tongue into Frank's mouth. As he played with his father's tongue, he was able to taste the light but lingering flavor of his own cock inside. However, when he pulled back, he said against his father's lips, "I couldn't tell. Maybe you should go back down there."
"You sick son of a bitch," Frank said knowing that even over the sounds of sex still coming from the center his voice would carry in the tiled room. "Are you asking your father to suck your dick?"