Looking in the mirror, I appear fitter and more toned, though considering the number of times I've gone 'jogging', I should have no fat at all.
We still have sex, but it has waned somewhat. Sometimes when I visit the toilets, I come back extra horny, and after a shower, I'm climbing all over my wife. She can be a bit moody, so sometimes she's responsive, and at other times she tells me where to go.
On those occasions where she's sexually uninterested, I'll make an excuse to go to the toilet guilt free. Well, relatively feeling less of it anyway.
So it was that Sunday afternoon, after a leisurely brunch with close friends, which included my long-time friend Vivek and his wife, I was feeling a little restless and initiated sex.
"Handsome...I'm just feeling tired today. Sorry, is that okay?" she asked, one hand on the remote, and another absently stroking the back of my neck.
"Sure." I remember a time when such rejections meant I'd awkwardly disappear to the office for a discrete tug.
But instead, "I might go for a run."
"You're looking really fit!" she said appreciatingly and with a nod, but still more focused on Netflix than her fit husband.
I changed into my running shorts, put my joggers on and beelined for the local park. That Sunday, I had felt a little frustration, not necessarily from my wife's rebuff, but from the work week, so I did two laps of my local park first.
It was quite cool, so even though I built up quite a sweat, I didn't feel that I would have an odour.
That familiar excitement when I saw the toilet block and immediately scanned the area and adjacent carpark, always made my heart jackhammer. I slowed, and walked towards it casually, having learned to act indifferent as I strolled in.
That panicked shuffle when I walked through the doorway, then turned left and the urinal came into view, was more than just a little suspicious.
A man had turned to face the urinal real fast, and I just saw someone disappear from view towards the cubicle, and a second later, a cubicle door slammed.
Trying to be as unintrusive as I could, feeling like I'd just crashed a party that I wasn't sure I was invited to, I slowed right down and turned to the cubicles, intending to go hide in there and take stock.
But as I started to turn, I caught the side of the man's face at the urinal, and I stopped.
It was Jackson.
He turned to me, a grin spreading on his handsome face.
I approached, but stayed at the other end of the long urinal, still feeling like I'd just robbed whoever he'd been playing with of their moment.
But Jackson angled towards me, his smile turning to an intent gaze down at my shorts, and scanned my body, as though appreciating the efforts of my jogging.
His dick was stiff, and he wanked slowly at the urinal, looking back towards the cubicle, at whoever had fled when I'd walked in.
I couldn't see the cracks in the door to the cubicle, which meant whoever had gone in there couldn't see me, but they would easily see Jackson, as he turned to openly wank at the urinal.
I'd forgotten how huge his dick was, and how much foreskin the guy had, and also how muscular and toned he was. Standing at the urinal, I was incredibly turned on.
He motioned for whoever it was to come out of the cubicle with a hand, while motioning to me and my growing boner.
We both heard the latch of the cubicle click, and the door opened with a soft groan.
Still feeling like an intruder, I faced the urinal, pulled my dick out and slowly wanked it, being careful to keep my right hand extended so it was mostly obstructed.
Just in case.
The guy who'd fled into the cubicle pulled up alongside me and between Jackson and me. From the corner of my eye, I saw his dick come out and so I turned to get a good look at it.
It was a great thick dick, dark-skinned, with weirdly shaved pubic hairs around the base.
Beyond him, seemingly unfazed that his play had become a threesome, Jackson shifted closer to the guy and bent to suck him.
