My physio Alberto

My name is Miguel and this year I started to take back some of the routines that parenthood had denied me for over ten years. And it's that between work and the kids, I didn't have time for myself. I had stopped doing sports and had neglected myself, absorbed by the minister's agenda that my three children had. The medical recognition of the company, where both cholesterol and triglycerides had gone through the roof, gave me the perfect excuse to recover some time to take care of myself.

Of course, the doctor recommended swimming, but I hate the water. Having my uncle teach me to swim by throwing me into the sea until my survival instinct made me float didn't work in my case. I know how to defend myself in the sea, since I'm from the coast, but don't expect me to do twenty laps in a row. A colleague from the office recommended that I sign up for crossfit. I discarded it from the start, but after paying several gym fees and going less often than my communist uncle goes to church, I talked to him about it again. My colleague told me about the benefits of that sport, which seemed like torture to me. He told me that he thought the same as me at first, but soon changed his mind. In the end, I had to give him the reason. I signed up for one near my house, so I could go before work. My wife thought I wouldn't last two days, waking up early to train at 7 in the morning. I decided to do it that way so I could take care of accompanying my children to their extracurricular activities and various sports they practiced. Ana, my wife, was surprised to see that I religiously got up at 6:30 and attended that military training. The reality is that the atmosphere was much more relaxed than I expected. Nobody laughed at putting ridiculous weights at the beginning. Even Juan, the trainer, scolded me when I tried to take more weight than my battered body advised.

As you can imagine, at that hour, we were always the regulars, with small variations depending on the day. The one who never failed was Alberto, a beast of a man, one meter ninety with muscles sculpted all over his body. He came with his girlfriend, Laura, a stunning woman who was impossible not to look at from top to bottom while training. Her ass was like a magnet for my eyes, and with the excuse of seeing how to do the exercises correctly, I indulged more than necessary. I had masturbated many times thinking about her in those leggings, and watching her Instagram videos in which she always placed the camera at a perfect angle to highlight that part of her anatomy.

Masturbation was my main relief since I had become a father. Only sprinkled with frantic sex during the times when I fathered my three children. And it's not that I'm already an old man who can't get it up. I'm forty-three years old, my wife always wanted to be a young mother, and we had our first child when I was thirty years old and she was twenty-eight. We had three male children in four years, and we didn't have an...