Background to my story: my wife died three years ago. I live in a small city where my home backs onto a nature preserve. See deer and rabbits regularly. A trail (distance of 100 yards or so) goes by the back of my yard which is used by bicylists, joggers, strollers, lovers, etc. The basement of my home opens out onto ground level. I keep myself physically fit by swimming and lifting weights. I have my own weight room in the lower level of my home where the glass doors open to the great outdoors. I lift my weights wearing only a jockstrap. I used to wear my entire gym strip, but got tired of washing all of it. I exercise for about an hour nearly every day starting at 7 A.M. Upon finishing, I strip to weigh myself on a balance beam scale. Next to my weight room, I have a sauna and a massage table. I moonlight at a massage therapist in the evening and on weekends.
Event: about a year after my wife died, I was lifting my weights, when I noticed a jogger run by on the trail. At that time of the morning, my basement light is on (though it is not particularly dark, and I wondered if he could see me). He didn't appear to look my way, so I didn't give it much thought. About thirty minutes later, I could see him returning from his jog along the same path. It was now lighter outside. For a month or two, I would see him regularly.
One morning, as I was lifting weights, watching myself in a large mirror with my back to the glass doors, I noticed in the mirror that the jogger had slipped into my yard (no back fence) and had concealed himself behind some rocks and bushes. It made me jump, but being somewhat of an exhibitionist, I gathered my composure and decided to continue as though I didn't know he was there. Typically during my exercising, I fondle my package through my jock, and continued to do so, though a bit more frequently for his benefit. When I finished, I striped for my weighing and then gathered my stuff and went into the next room. I peered out the darkened window to see if he was still there, and noticed him slip out of the yard. I surprized myself having a crazy reaction: being without sex for year (except for wanking), I found myself with a rigid erection.
This jogger continued his visits. One morning, again viewing him through the mirror, I noticed that he appeared to be jacking off. Couldn't believe it, but after he left, I went to where he was standing and noticed several strips of semen on the rocks. Insects had already gathered for breakfast. I secretly desired for him to stop in, and I fantasized about what I would do to get him to stop in without embarrassing him. I decided on the direct approach.
The next Saturday morning, I deliberately went out early into my yard, wearing only my jockstrap. It was fairly light. I pretended that I was checking my flowers until I saw him go by. Unabashedly, I waved and he waved back. I motioned for him to come over, which he did. I excused my near nudity. I told him that I lifted weights in the morning, and needed someone to spot me while I lifted some heavier weights. I asked him if he would be willing. He told me he would be glad to help. I told him I would put more clothes on and he replied that it didn't matter to him. He affirmed he would drop in on his way back. I started lifting my weights (wearing only my jock) when I heard a light tapping on the open door. I invited him in, and changed my weights to some heavier ones. He spotted me on several exercises, one of which has me lying on my back with the weight above my shoulders. The spotter stands at my head to assist if necessary. I could see up his jogging shorts, noting that his genitals were tucked in the liner.
He dropped in twice a week to help with the heavier lifts. On other occasions, I could still view him concealed in my bushes. It was not unusual to see semen sprayed on the rocks.
We became acquainted. He was a bank manager and I told him I was a retired physiotherapist who still performed massages. He was forty, married with three kids.
One day when he stopped by, he was spotting me as usual, and when the exercise came that had me laying on my back, I viewed for the first time that the inner liner of his shorts had been pulled aside, leaving his cock and balls to hang free. We were seducing each other I think. My erection was constrained by my jock, but his was making a pretty pronounced buldge in his shorts. Continuing the exercises, I invited him to join in. Afterwards, I invited him for a sauna and massage. He agreed. I stripped for my weighing, and he did the same. We both entered the sauna in the nude. Afterwards, he crawled up on my massage table. I offered him a towel to cover himself, and though this massage was his first, he declined, saying that I had seen all there is to see. I slipped some shorts on and started to spread the oil and knead the flesh. I deliberately spent a good deal of time on his butt and 'accidentally' stroked the back of his sac as I slid my hand up and down his cleavage and thighs. Asked if the touch was good and he replied in the affirmative. I mentioned that some men liked a sensual element added to the massage. He asked what that implied and I stated that I massaged aroung the groin area. He said 'OK'. As I stood over him, my own genitals would often slide by his hand and arm. Once when my balls were in the palm of his hand area, I could feel him squeeze them gently, just like I was doing to his. I quietly said, 'That felt good!' By this time, he had his butt raised, and I was stroking pretty freely between his legs up into his abdomen area, lubing his 'rod and reel' pretty thoroughly.
At this point, I had him turn over. His cock was rock solid. I massaged his arms, chest, legs and abdomen, frequently brushing his cock and balls in the process. He was breathing pretty heavily. He finally commented, 'I can't hardly take any more.' I took that as my signal to finish him off, and I did so by gripping his cock in one hand and twisting the knob with the other. While doing so, he pulled on the front of my shorts, so I slipped them off. He held onto me, moving his hand often enough to keep me hard. I kept up the action until he shot jizz all the way up to his chin. As he lay there panting I finished myself off as he watched.
I was afraid that after that experience he would never come back, but next week, there he was, on schedule. When he started to exercise with me, he striped off his shorts to expose a brand new jockstrap, which amused me. He left it at my home as he found it too constraining to jog in.
He learned to massage me, and got good after a few months of instruction and practice.
Then came the bad news. After about a year, his bank was promoting him, and he was to become an area manager. He relocated to a city about two hours away. After that, I got to see him only about every six to eight weeks. Nevertheless, we remain good exercise friends and massage buddies, often reliving the good year we had together.