robzranger: I was bound and determined that I was going to get into shape this time. At 35, 5'11", 175 pounds and 20% bf I'm deff not happy with this body. It seems I can never seem to convert that extra 20 pounds of fat into muscle. Oh sure, I've tried and tried and tried. But every time I go to the gym, every time I hire a personal trainer, I wind up with my cock buried in some muscle stud's ass for a few hours followed by a great meal, some ice cream and then more fucking the slut as a thank you for dinner. There';s one thing I've learned about muscle boys, it's that they are insatiable bottoms. And so I've kicked my present muscle slut outta the house and headed to the Gold's Gym all the way across town. I had a plan, I knew it would work. I am older 'and' wiser. I walked in with my gym bag and looked around. Yeah, it was a gym. The usual muscle heads and few twinks mixed in good measure. There seemed to be plenty of equipment and no waiting. I had picked this Gold's primarily because it was away from my regular crowd and my history of muscle boys. I had also selected this location because it was situated next to the city's public pool with full spa and sauna. Tall, blond, built 'n hung walked over to me as I did my best to look confused. "Hi there", he reached out an oversized hand to shake mine, "I'm Brad. How can I help you?" We shook hands. I smiled. This asshole actually bounced his gigantic pecs for me as if to intimidate me. I couldn';t help but grin, thinking if he only knew. "I';m here to finally get serious about putting on some muscle Brad. I've been a Gold';s gym member now for 10 years and what you see is the result. I'd like a personal trainer three days a week, someone who can work out with me, not just walk me around, someone who can help with diet, someone who's willing to put in the time to help me achieve my goals." You could see the dollar signs swimming around in his eyes, "Well why don't we go to my office Mr.?" "Stevenson. But I want you to call me Rob." "OK, Rob. Let's go to my office, do you mind if we chat a bit. I'd like to get a better sense of why it's not working for you and how I can help." We walked off through the workout area. I admit I was a little taken aback by how big this guy was. He was at least 6'7";, maybe 275 pounds and maybe 6% or 7% bf. And, his ass! Normally guys this big have a doorwide caboose, but this guy had a pert little ass that actually moved up and down when he walked. Control! Control I told myself. This is the problem! Stay focused and concentrate on the goal! Brad's office it turned out was the Manager's office. A little glass, a large desk, a few trophies and supplement display case with a few chairs around a mahogany conference table. Brad went and grabbed some papers from a cabinet behind the desk, "have a seat at the table and I'll just get some paperwork. I want to make some notes." I sat at the table and I'll be damned if he didn't bend over and wiggle his ass for me. It was all too much and I could feel my resolve slipping as I struggled to maintain some composure. There must be some sixth sense that muscle boys have about me. "There!" Brad came over to the table. I purposely left the head of the table open for him so he could feel like he was in charge. "Now. You say you've been working out for 10 years?" he raised his eyebrows in some mock show of disbelief and concern. "That's right. Ten years I've been 'trying' to work out, 'trying' to get big and put on some muscle. Now I'm not saying part of it isn't my fault, but the truth is every workout partner or instructor I've ever has had other ideas, making it very difficult for me to complete even a few weeks of training and diet." "Excuse me for asking, but why do you think that is?" Here it comes, "because Brad, I've got this really huge fucking cock and every guy I meet turns into a fucking cock slave the minute they see my stick." You could see he just had no idea what to say. I just smiled and waited. Focus, focus, I told myself. I had a new plan and I was determined to carry it out. "Uh, well, yes. Um I'm, well, I have to tell you Rob that that will 'not' happen here. Um, we have only the most professional staff and being, um, straight myself, and I have to tell you that I'm definitely 'not';, he looked right at me so serious, "interested in men at all and I'm a little shocked, well I'm not sure what the hell to say at this point." "Well Brad, I understand, but I'm being blunt with you because frankly I'm very serious this time. I think in the past I've let my personal trainers take advantage of me. Plowing their asses several times a day, fucking them and their friends, frankly I've neglected 'me' in the process" "Well I can appreciate that." "And to continue being blunt Brad, I'm really unhappy when I look in the mirror. My diet is the shits and everyone has a breaking point and I've reached mine. I'm serious about my desire and totally clueless as to where to start or how to train. I need someone to show me the ropes, someone to help me along. I don't have much money, but I'm willing to spend what I have and even incur some debt on my credit cards to do this." I knew talking about money would bring him back to reality and help 'him' focus.