Helping the old man stretch


Helping the old man stretch

Helping the old man stretch
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18 thoughts on “Helping the old man stretch”

  10. Emily wiped the sweat from her brow and glanced at the clock on the wall. Only one more session to go. She spotted Mr. Thompson across the room, struggling with a leg press machine. His gaze, as usual, lingered a bit too long on her. She sighed inwardly but forced a professional smile as she approached him.

    “Hey, Mr. Thompson. How’s it going today?” Emily asked, keeping her tone upbeat.

    “Ah, Emily. Just the person I wanted to see,” Mr. Thompson replied, his eyes gleaming. “I think I pulled something. Could you help me with some stretches?”

    “Of course,” Emily said, maintaining her professionalism. “Let’s head over to the stretching area.”

    They moved to a quieter corner of the gym. Emily laid out a mat and instructed Mr. Thompson to lie down. As she began guiding him through a series of stretches, she felt his eyes on her, his gaze making her skin crawl.

    “You’re really good at this, you know,” Mr. Thompson said, his voice low. “I’ve had trainers before, but none as attentive as you.”

    “Thank you,” Emily replied curtly, focusing on the stretch.

    As she moved to help him with a hamstring stretch, she positioned herself to avoid any unnecessary contact. Mr. Thompson’s hand brushed against her leg, and she quickly pulled back.

    “Oops, sorry about that,” he said with a smirk.

    Emily’s discomfort grew, but she pressed on, determined to finish the session. She guided him into a deeper stretch, holding his leg steady. Suddenly, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. His shorts had shifted, and his massive penis was now partially exposed.

    Emily’s breath caught in her throat. She was repulsed and shocked, but to her horror, she felt a warmth spreading between her legs. She tried to shake off the feeling, focusing on the task at hand.

    “Uh, Mr. Thompson, your shorts…” she began, her voice faltering.

    He looked down and then back up at her, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Oh, dear. Looks like I’ve had a wardrobe malfunction,” he said, making no move to fix it. “But you don’t mind, do you?”

    Emily was at a loss for words. She knew she should leave, report him, anything but stay. But she found herself rooted to the spot, her body betraying her.

    “Why don’t you come a bit closer, Emily?” Mr. Thompson’s voice was a seductive whisper. “I can see you’re curious.”

    “No, this is inappropriate,” Emily stammered, her voice lacking conviction.

    “Just a little taste, Emily. You might enjoy it more than you think,” he coaxed, his hand now resting on her thigh.

    “No, really, I can’t,” Emily protested again, her voice wavering.

    Ignoring her protests, Mr. Thompson took her hand and placed it on his cock. Emily’s heart raced as he guided her hand, using it to stroke him. The heat and hardness under her fingers were undeniable, and she felt herself trembling.

    “See? It’s not so bad,” he murmured, his voice soothing yet insistent. “Just let it happen.”

    Emily’s mind was screaming at her to pull away, but her body betrayed her once more. She could feel her resolve weakening, her hand now moving more willingly. Slowly, she moved closer, her eyes fixed on his exposed member.

    Mr. Thompson reached out and gently guided her head towards his crotch. “That’s it, good girl. Just a little bit.”

    Tentatively, Emily extended her tongue, the tip brushing against the head of his penis. It was warm and slightly salty, the sensation sending a shiver down her spine. She hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest.

    “Go on, Emily. Don’t be shy,” Mr. Thompson urged, his voice a low rumble.

    Taking a deep breath, Emily parted her lips and wrapped them around his cock. The sheer size of it filled her mouth, stretching her lips wide. She felt the rough texture of his skin against her tongue as she slowly took him deeper, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked.

    He let out a satisfied groan, tangling his fingers in her hair. “See, I knew you’d like it,” he murmured. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

    Emily’s mind was a whirl of conflicting emotions. She hated what she was doing, but a part of her was undeniably turned on. She sucked him deeper, her own moans of pleasure mingling with his.

    As Mr. Thompson’s breathing grew heavier, Emily sensed he was getting close. He pulled her hair gently, signaling her to go slower. “Just a bit more, Emily. You’re doing so well.”

    Emily felt the tension building in him, his muscles tightening. Suddenly, with a deep groan, he came. The sheer volume of his cum took her by surprise, filling her mouth almost instantly. It was thick, much thicker than anything she had ever encountered before.

    She pulled back slightly, but he held her head in place, urging her to take it all. “Don’t waste a drop,” he whispered hoarsely.

    Emily struggled to swallow, the copious amount overwhelming her. It seemed never-ending, each spurt more voluminous than the last. She could feel it dripping down her chin, pooling onto her workout top.

    When he finally released her, she gasped for air, her face flushed and covered in his cum. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, looking at the sheer amount left on her fingers in disbelief.

    “Good girl, Emily,” Mr. Thompson said, patting her head patronizingly. “I knew you had it in you.”

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