Daddy Gets High

Chapter 2

Harry

It's nearing seven thirty in the morning as I wait in the locker room of the Platinum Fitness. Zayn knows seven thirty is our work out times. I've got to be at work for quarter after nine and it's really unprofessional to show up bordering on late and stinky.

Just as I'm about to leave to start working out on my own, Zayn barges in and almost tramples right through me.

"I'm sorry, Harry. He made me breakfast to get my morning going, but then he really got my morning going." Zayn changes his tone on the last part and I roll my eyes at his words.

"Doesn't matter. Get your shorts on and meet me out there. I'll grab some machines." I tell him and take my water bottle from the bench and head out into the gym.

We normally start leg day off easy with some machine curls, but figuring we don't have as much time, and that one of three machines are already taken, we'll start with the presses.

I'm giving that guy on the machine a lucky break. I doubt very much he'd enjoy hearing us talk about our job or Zayn talking about his night.

I set myself up with the proper weight and I take a drink of my water bottle. I see Zayn walking over towards me and he takes the machine beside me and puts his water bottle on the ground.

We both take a moment to get ourselves situated.

"So. How's Mr. Payne?" I ask. I have yet to know his first name, no idea why.

"He's good. Really good." Zayn smirks as he look over to me.

"And you made him that good?" I smirk knowingly, moving my legs up and down the machine. I can feel the burn already because last leg day we decided to go easy. Bad decision.

"Obviously. Fuck, his stamina, man oh man. You need to find yourself someone like that. The sex is incredible." He says and his arm goes over his abs as he continues to press with his legs.

"He's how old?" I wonder if he'll actually let me know. Zayn's a fair few years older than me, but I know Mr. Payne isn't close to his age.

"Not important." He laughs as he stops the machine and steps off.

I follow his lead and get off the machine. We move to another machine and he leans against it while I set up the weights, "What's it like with an older man?" I ask. I know he's been with a few men that have been older than him, and with his job he knows the difference.

"They can be better. But they can also be worse. Some you just have to close your eyes and wait for it to end. But others, like Mr. Payne, God, you don't want it to end." He fixes his shirt and pulls it down over his basketball shorts.

"Doesn't it feel wrong?" The biggest age gap between anyone I've had sex with was four years. I don't know how Zayn does it.

Even just when I'm dancing and I see the middle aged people getting turned on, it sort of makes me uneasy. Sure, I've accepted its part of the job, but it doesn't mean I have to like it. I'm not saying I wouldn't, because I'm sure they can bring experience to the table, but I'd have to be comfortable with it.

He shrugs, "Not that much. You get over it. Harry, why are you only on twenty? Thirty is when you feel it." Zayn comments as he looks down to the weight.

I groan, "Come on." I don't want to make this hard.

"You're not going to magically hang off a pole. Come on now." He says and waits for me to move my legs off the machine so he can adjust the weight.

I sigh, but I know he's right. I instantly feel the difference and after a few reps I have to put my hands on my thighs as I continue.

"Ten more." Zayn says and I groan. I know he's doing this to better me, but fuck.