The barman immediately supplied ‘Hunky’ with a handful of serviettes, before accusingly turning to me and saying, “I wonder who forgot to close ...he lid.”I began apologizing profusely, and for the first time a smile broke out on Hunky’s face. “It’s my own fault,” he said. “I should have made sure the lid was closed.”“May I at least buy you another beer in recompense,” I offered.“No, I’m driving,” he replied. “But maybe next time,” he concluded, in a friendly fashion.“I’m Francis,” I said,. Damn martyr.Marcus was waiting just inside the dojo when I came out of the bathroom, his usual kind expression on his face as he spoke with Sensei. It was an interesting picture. Marcus was a little over six-feet of well-groomed, older gentleman, his skin lightly golden where you could see it, his tailored butler's suit helping to hide his well-muscled build. Kind blue eyes and short, dark brown hair just going to grey, he could have been somebody's grandfather.Sensei was a bare inch taller. Now all I could do was to suffer the indignity of him touching me while hoping that his fear - or respect - for the boss would prevent him from going too far. As we stood there in silence, he looked into my anger filled eyes for quite some time before he thrust his pelvis forward and rubbed himself against me. Even though the material of his trousers, I could feel that his cock was erect and bloated. Then, as quickly as he'd pressed himself against me, he pulled back again and, in mocking. She looked adorably cute in her white weight lifting shoes and her sweats and gray T-shirt with the neck and arms cut out."What are you looking at?" Wendy asked me."The same thing you were looking at," I replied."I was not!" She lied."Uh-huh. Sure."My wife was as much a sucker for a pretty woman as I was.Once they all cleared out, we got into the weight room and had the whole place to ourselves. I warmed up with some shadow boxing, and Wendy headed right for the treadmill. Her legs were already.