0 comments/ 102983 views/ 7 favorites Personal Trainer By: GQ1NYC During the winter months I decided to go more to the gym then I did during the summer. Wanting to look go for the spring I signed up for a Personal trainer to help me stay focused on training. The Gym was like any other gym, lots of machines, aerobic classes and the weight room was filled with muscle bound men and women. The first day I signed up for my personal training I had to go through the usual questionnaire and stuff. They assigned me to Debbie, a Late 30's brunette who has been training for years. Her age didn't show and her body was very well shaped. When I met with her for my 1st work out, I felt awkward because she was a lot stronger then me and I didn't want to seem like I was weak in front of her, As Marcellus Wallace says "You feel that, that's Pride fucking with ya!" Well we begin by doing stretches and I start to check her out in the mirror so she won't notice I was looking. She was very beautiful, very strong, and wearing the tightest workout outfit. It took all my strength and quickness to hide my growing erection that was now visible in my shorts. We head over to the weight machines and she's displaying how to properly use the butterfly machine. I start to stare at her boobs flexing threw the mirror, something I couldn't help. She looked like she was about a C cup but she was wearing a sports bra under her tank top so you couldn't really tell. I hid behind the machine next to me until the erection subsided. (This stupid thing is gonna get me in trouble, I swear it's like being in 3rd grade again and trying to avoid going up to the board 'cause your erection is poking out.) Well I got my mind back on my work out and we went through all the machines. All the time I'm making sure she doesn't see that I'm dying from the workout routine. We head over to the stomach work out machines. There is one machine where you lay on your back and bring your legs all the way up. She stood by my head so my feet could reach her hands. So I'm doing this exercise when I realize that her pussy is just an inch from my face. I mean if I moved my head back, I would rub up against it. With that in mind, my dick hardened in seconds. She caught a glimpse of my stiff dick, but remained professional about it. My work out ended and I quickly went to the Men's locker room to jerk off in the shower. My next work out session, I made sure to wear baggier shorts. She came in with tight clothes again and I tried everything in my power to keep from getting a rock hard dick. This work out session didn't help either, when doing stretches, she was practically rubbing on my ass, on one machine where she was showing me how to position my elbows, her tits were dead straight in front of me, not to mention we did the leg crunch exercise where her crotch was close to my head. I could hold that back and my dick stood hard as a board. This time she couldn't hold back a smile. I thought she was going to laugh out loud. I felt so embarrassed. After the work out I went straight to the shower again and rubbed one out. The next time I showed up she wore a very revealing outfit. Her nipples were protruding through her sports bra and she wore a thong type outfit. I was screwed, no way could I keep from getting hard with her looking like that. She was kind of turned on to the fact that I was trying not to look at her and I know she remembered by stiffy from the last session. She decided to torment me during this session. We began stretching and she was helping me stretch my quads, as I laid on my stomach, I could feel her hand gently grazing my ass. She then reached down and pressed up against my balls with the back of her hand. She made every effort to rub her tits against the back of my head while on the machines. She always bent over in front of me so I could get a good look at her ass. When it came to my leg crunch exercise, she stood as close to my face as possible so that her pussy was almost brushing up against my cheek. My dick was so fucking hard that my balls ached. She was full of smiles now knowing that she teased the shit out of me for the whole session. As I headed back to the shower to do my after workout stroking, she told me she needed my to fill out a survey in her office. I had to shower quickly and didn't have a chance to masturbate. I came over to her office where she was now wearing sweats and a t-shirt, her hair was wet also from being in the shower. I could see her nipples threw her t-shirt and it was teasing the hell out of me. I sat down and she started going over my workout and telling me on areas I could improve. She said that when people sign up to for a Personal trainer, they get a free massage session from the club. She said if I had time, I could go down to the massage room now. Since I wasn't headed anywhere I figured I would take the massage. I went to the room and followed the instructions on the wall. 1)Remove clothing 2)Lay flat on massage table 3)Massages run from ½ hour to 1 hour depending on appointment. I laid on the table and started to fall asleep a little. When the Massage Therapist came in I felt the sheet on my come off. I felt hands on my back and was relieved that it was a female giving the massage. The hands started at the neck and proceeded at down towards my ass. The massage changed to more of a sensual stroking. I was getting really turned on and could help from smiling (and getting hard). I then felt her hand reach underneath to grab my cock. I was really surprised and turned over to my side to look at her when I noticed it was Debbie, my Physical Trainer. I was shocked and motionless as I watched her standing naked in front of me and stroking my cock with one hand. She then dove down and shoved my dick in her mouth. I let out a long groan as I was so horny from the work out and turned on by her aggressiveness. She lifted one leg on the table and with her free hand started to play with her pussy. I reached over and pulled her on top of me while she proceeded to suck on my dick. Her pussy was bald and her ass was small and hard. I took my tongue and stroked the outside of her pussy lips. Her wetness was now dripping down on my chin and I entered her hole with my tongue. She was really turned on by the way I was sliding my tongue in and out of her, she then licked the side of my cock and put right ball in her mouth to suck. I then slid my tongue up to her nice tight asshole where I worked the tip around the outside of her hole. She then slides up and inserts my dick in her as I grab her ass. You can just imagine how good she can work her ass. Up and down, back and forth. It was pure heaven. The combination of her Personal training and her age just made the fuck a 100% better then I've ever been fucked. She then gets off and wants some doggie, I quickly obey her command and hope off the table and get behind her. She then takes some massage oil and squirts it down the crack of her ass so make it all nice and slippery. As I stroke inside her, it glides in and out real smooth. I slam fuck her as hard and as fast as I could, drilling in deep with each stroke. She is loving it and gripping the edge of the table with both hands. She looks back to me and says "Fuck my ass Baby, fuck it good". With one swift move I stroke out of her pussy and in to her asshole. She let out a seductive moan and I continued with my rhythm. She reach in between her legs and massaged my balls as it slapped up against her clit. She then started rubbing her clit and told me "Cum in my ass baby, fill it with all your juices." Not to long after my balls tighten up and with my last thrust I shoot hot steamy cum deep in her ass. I thrust a few more and the sat on top of the table. She came over and kissed me on the lips. "Babe, out of all the people I've trained, you're the best Fuck I've had." "By the way, you do get a free massage from the club." She kissed me again and walked out. 10 min later I got my massage and I laid there with the biggest smile ever. Personal Trainer It was my first job out of college. I was a faceless wheel in the cog of Capitalism. The office I shared with a handful of other slackers was separated from the rest company by both attitude and distance as we were about half a block away from the rest of the offices. The only thing that united us was the crappy intranet site we logged into each morning. It was a repository of corny jokes, Dilbert comics, and the occasional missive from upper management. The one thing I enjoyed about that site was the section for swapping. People traded books, CDs, lawnmowers and other, less tangible, goods. I came upon the idea one day while walking around the parking lot at lunch that I could really do for a walking partner. I needed to loose those extra pounds that I had gained at college and missed human interaction. When I returned to the office I placed a two line ad on the intranet. No one beat down my door, of course. Most people spent their lunch hour loitering in the dank corners of the office park, dragging on cigarettes and gossiping about the people that weren't there. Yet, a week later, a reply did arrive. "BEEN WATCHING YOU. THINK I CAN HELP. LET'S MEET AT LUNCH." I expected to meet another overweight twentysomething but, instead, the person waiting for me in the parking lot that day looked more like he had just graduated from boot camp. He smirked when he saw me. Something about him scared me. It could be that he looked more like a bully who was there to punish me for some unforgivable crime against the pecking order than someone who was intent on helping me. "How much do you want to lose?" he asked, jumping right over introductions and small talk. "I dunno," I shrugged. "Maybe 20 pounds?" "Not enough. You could lose 50 easy and still use some work. You need toning and a lot of cardio," he said, looking at me more like a piece of meat than a coworker or walking partner. I was a bit put off, to say the least. "Come on. Let's walk," he said, starting out. I didn't want to be rude so I fell in step with him as best I could. He was walking so fast that I started gasping for breath after a block. "You really are out of shape," he sneered. "I can help you. Do you want that?" "Yes," I said, gulping for air. He handed me a card. "Meet me here after work tonight. No excuses." And with that, he was off and running (well, jogging), down the block, opening a distance between us. At first, I thought that he was some kind of Gym recruiter. But, when I got to the address on the card, I was surprised to find that it was a residence. The garage door was open and there was a large, opaque screen in front of it. Unsure, I walked up to it and called out, "Hello?" I realized that I didn't even know the name of this guy. "Open up the screen from the side and come in," he said. I was amazed. The inside of this rather innocuous garage looked like some kind of twisted version of Gold's Gym. Benches, weights, and other odd implements of exercise filled the room. He lay on one of the benches, lifting a large barbell overhead. After a few reps he put down the weight and sat up, dabbing his sweaty forehead with a towel. He looked me up and down, the corners of his mouth moving south with distaste. "You expect to work out in that?" he asked, scoffing. I had dressed in what I thought were workout clothes -- sweatpants and a t-shirt. "Go into the house. All the way down the hall is my bedroom. Third drawer down on the left in the tall dresser are some better clothes for you. Go on. Hurry up. I haven't got all night." I felt like a spy, going into a stranger's house while he wasn't around. I could hear his grunts and the clang of metal as he continued to workout in the garage. I tried to avert my gaze and just walk down the hall but was too much of a snoop for that. I checked out his living room -- austere and neat -- and look around his bedroom a bit as well before looking in the chest of drawers. His bedroom was also immaculate. There were a few pictures on the top of his dresser of he and a very well-built woman. The looked to be at some kind of auditorium and both were smiling from ear to ear. The one item that looked completely out of place in the room was some device hanging from the ceiling. It looked to be ropes and pulleys and I imagined it to be either some kind of decoration or an exercise device. The clothes he had wanted me to wear were much more skimpy than I should have liked. Tight Lycra shorts and a mesh shirt. I was amazed when they fit (just barely) and very self conscious when I came back to his garage, my own clothes bundled under my arms as to not let them get too far from me. He introduced me to a rather strenuous workout regimen and didn't hesitate from pushing me past my limits. The next day at work I was sore as hell. I saw him while walking at lunch but he either didn't see me or chose to ignore me. I had agreed to meet him three nights a week and, the next night, our routine was very much the same. I changed in his bedroom and came out to workout with him for an hour before retreating, worn out, back home. This became our routine. He never seemed to enjoy my company or even looking at me. He treated me with contempt every time I saw him. This went on for months. Gradually, I noticed the pounds coming off and the soreness abetting in its intensity. Weeks turned to months and I kept up with the program religiously. We never had a conversation, though I tried my best to engage him. Getting any kind of positive reaction out of him became something of a challenge. I worked harder, trying to please him with my determination. A few more weeks passed and I found myself buying some new pants and feeling a lot better about myself. Still, he remained as dour. But I did notice one small thing. As I worked out, I noticed him moving closer to me than he had been before. I thought that I was imagining this but I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck prick up as I worked with him behind me, his breath on me. I continued to strive, pushing myself harder and asking if we could add more difficulty to the routines. With that, I noticed him moving even closer. He was starting to invade my personal space but I didn't really mind it. If anything, I liked it. I took it as a sign of approval and I hoped for more. My routine got harder and it also changed to include some very uncomfortable and unusual exercises. More than simple weight training or aerobics, I was now doing some severe stretching. To that end, my dour instructor helped to twist, push, and pull me into some awkward if not slightly embarrassing positions. All for my own good, he assured. Was I imagining a smile on his face as he was bent over me, my legs stretched up above my head? It was here that I was really glad for the one-way screen that covered the mouth of his garage. What would the neighbors think? It was six months to the day that I had first visited his home. I came in through the screen, greeted him and took the long walk down his hallway to go change in his bedroom. He still provided workout clothes for me. He had changed the sizes of these clothes three times since I had "enrolled" in his program. Either it was wishful thinking or he liked seeing me in tighter clothes as each subsequent set was more snug than the last, despite the amount of weight I lost. I finished changing and went back to the garage where he was waiting. We started by doing the stretching. I stood in the middle of the mat and he helped by pulling my arms up into my usual, awkward position. But then, something snapped. I couldn't tell what the noise was I heard but when I went to lower my arms, I realized that they couldn't be taken down. I looked up to see a long chain coming down from the rafters with manacles on the end. These were secured around my wrists. I twisted to look at him and ask what was going on. When I went to face him, he grabbed my mouth and filled it with a gag that he got over my head with lightning speed. I started protesting and he simply put his finger to his mouth to shush me. "None of that," he said simply. From his back pocket he produced a utility blade. I thought that he was going to cut me open and gut me like a deer there in his garage. My eyesight started dimming, as if I was going to faint, and he slapped me out of it. "No harm will come to you," he said and cut away my workout shirt. From there he moved down and cut away the shorts and underpants beneath them. I was now without a stitch of clothing apart from my shoes and socks. He left these on as he secured two more cuffs around each ankle which were attached to chains on either side of the garage. I was faced out, looking outside of the garage seeing the picture perfect suburban summer evening while naked and bound. He stepped in front of me and touched my face. "You have done well," he said, moving his hand down to my chest. "You've done all that I have required and remade yourself from a fat slob to a lean and well-toned machine. Are you ready to make the transformation complete? To be completely what I want?" I had no idea what he was talking about. His hand went over my stomach and I got butterflies. His fingers found my cock. He looked down and spit. His spittle landed on my cock and he used this to lubricate his hand as he started masturbating me to erection. He wrapped a thick rubber band around my balls and the base of my cock. "To keep you hard," he said before walking out of the garage into his house. It was a few minutes later that a car pulled into the driveway, stopping just inches from the screen that separated me from my exposure to the outside world. Out of the car stepped the blonde woman I had seen for months. She was in the photograph in his bedroom. This whole time she hadn't been around but now, here she was. I could see her and study her as she got out and walked across the path to the front door. After what seemed like an eternity, he came back out to the garage with her right behind him. They didn't say a word. She walked over to me and looked me over like I was a piece of meat in a butcher shop window. She looked from me to him and nodded before she went across the garage and pulled up a lawn chair to sit on. She nodded again at him and I felt something cold and wet on my asshole. She spoke, "I've been gone for some time. I told my husband that when I got back he was to have a new slave for us. Someone he could mold into the perfect little bitch. He's shown me the progress of your body on the tapes from our bedroom. He also says that he's manipulated you to do whatever he wants in here as long as you get praise. Is that true?" There wasn't anything false in what she said. While this isn't what I had in mind by trying to please him, I had done anything and everything he commanded in order to get a positive response. I wanted to articulate this but all that I did was nod my head. "Perfect," she said. "He's going to fuck you for me and then release you. We're going to then see if you come back for more at your regularly appointed time. We hope you don't disappoint us." She nodded again and the cold on my asshole was quickly heated. There was pressure there as well. And then... a grunt of effort and my asshole was opened to him. I wanted to scream and flail but, instead, I tried to hold my feet on the ground as he pushed into me, taking me, raping me, making me his. Opening me with his cock. He put his hands on my hips and started pulling me into him. I realized that this was exactly like part of our routine and I got into the rhythm. The difference was that during our routine he never had his cock inside of me. In and out, he rode me hard and I began to find pleasure in the sensations. I found myself pushing back to meet his thrusts and push him deeper into me. My eyes were closed until I felt the stare of his wife on me and I met her gaze as her husband plowed my back forty. She had one hand in her pants, masturbating, as she watching me getting fucked. I felt him getting faster and more desperate. He was grunting like an animal and I was in heaven. I felt him push and jerk and could tell that he was cumming in me. Without a touch, I felt my own cock spraying its load as well almost as if he were cumming through me. He held onto my hips for a few last thrusts before pulling out. I felt so empty without him in me and, suddenly, I realized that I would now do anything he asked in order to feel that sensation again. His wife left the garage and he undid the cuffs that kept me aloft and bound. Without a word, he left me there. I went back into their house and changed into my street clothes and left as she was starting dinner. I replayed the previous six months in my head as I drove home, feeling the sticky lubrication under me. I thought about it when I got home and showered, masturbating under the hot spray and imagining the feel of him in me. I couldn't get it out of my mind that night or the next day at work. The next evening, I was back at his house at my appointed time. Ready for anything. Personal Trainer My wife, Rachel, is one of those women in their late 30's who still look like they're in their early 20's. Other than a few gray hairs she colors away, it's hard to tell she is over 30, much less that she's coming up on her 40th birthday. It doesn't hurt that we've never had kids, but Rachel always looked hot. Rachel has longish brunette hair, is on the petite side at 5'2", and weighs about 115 lbs. She has amazing, natural 34D breasts. She keeps herself in good shape, running on weekends and occasionally a yoga class or two. Rachel constantly worries about her age and her figure, though. I suppose it's only natural for a woman to worry about her appearance, but I catch younger guys checking her out all the time. Sometimes girls are even checking her out! She has a confident, graceful demeanor that people notice right away. As her 40th birthday approached, she fretted more and more about getting old, her boobs sagging or men not finding her attractive. I would constantly tease her, offering her a bet that she could take home any guy she wanted. I have always fantasized about my wife having sex with another man, so I was only joking enough to maintain plausible deniability. She would always roll her eyes or blow me off with a "you wish." But then, one day, she didn't. I had just come back from a business trip, and we hadn't had sex for a few weeks before I left. Before I even put my bags down, Rachel jumped me in the hallway. We had angry, passionate, animal sex—the best we had had in a while. After I caught my breath, Rachel stirred from her post-orgasmic stupor. She got up to go to the bathroom, wrapping her blue, silk robe around herself. She looked at me, as if she wasn't sure how to say what she wanted to say. "People don't really have sex with other people, do they," she asked innocently. This launched us into a 20 minute discussion on infidelity, swinging and multiple partners. Rachel is not naïve, but she had the opinion that swingers were not in a real, loving, marriage. Having no experience, I couldn't tell her anything but what I'd read. "So why the sudden interest," I asked. "Do you have somebody in mind?" "No, it's just, you know—I'd like to know if men are still attracted to me." "Trust me, we are." She smiled. "Look, honey, I'm being 100% honest here, I have no problem with you having sex with another man, because I know you love me. As long as you tell me about it, I promise I won't get jealous." "We'll see," she said, playfully throwing a pillow at me. She went back into the living room to watch TV, and I stayed in bed, thinking of my Rachel with another man. I worked myself into a frenzy, thinking she might have experimented while I was out of town. About 20 minutes later, I came out into the living room with a raging hard on, bent my wife over the sofa and pounded her until I shot another massive load into her wet pussy. When we recovered, again, she turned to me and said, "Well, I guess it really does turn you on!" For the next few weeks, I fantasized about Rachel having sex with another man. I would tell her my fantasies as we fucked or she sucked me off. The fantasies escalated from tame (kissing and touching), to soft swinging (blow jobs) to full on sex (jumping the grocery boy in a back alley) to premeditated dates ending in multiple nights in hotels before she came back to me, and tortured me with the details. Whenever we weren't screwing our brains out like it was our honeymoon, Rachel was masturbating, more and more frequently. But there were still times that she had low self esteem, so we finally got around to joining a gym together. We found a sports club with a pool, a sauna and all the amenities, so I could chill out while Rachel went crazy fitness boot camp. After a few weeks, both of our energy levels were much higher, and the sex was getting more and more acrobatic (and an endurance trial for me). I had to start exercising seriously just to have the stamina to keep up with my new little sexpot of a wife. Rachel was taking her new health kick seriously, but after a few more weeks, she felt she hit a plateau. I suggested she hire a personal trainer, and she said, "Yeah, I tried that. They put me with some girly girl that was all ribbons and bows, so I asked for another trainer. They put me with this woman who reminded me of my high school gym teacher, and not in a good way." "Wow," I said, not realizing she had already moved on this. "So, do we need to find another gym?" "No," Rachel said happily and confidently. "I talked to the assistant manager, Mike. He was really cool and volunteered to train me himself. We're getting together tomorrow afternoon." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * I found it interesting that Rachel was okay using a male trainer. Okay, I admit, it was a turn on. For a while, I did not raise this guy Mike in our fantasy sessions. I was worried that it would make it too real for Rachel and she would get turned off. I also had no idea which of the guys at the gym was Mike, and tried not to figure it out and risk spoiling my fantasy. For a few weeks, I just imagined what he looked like, and jerked off thinking of my sweet, innocent Rachel getting fucked by some random, hulking stud. One night, though, I got a little carried away. I was fucking Rachel from behind and she had her eyes closed tight. I could tell she was fantasizing about fucking another man, so I teased her. "Is this how you let him fuck you, huh? Do you like his cock inside you? Are you his eager little slut?" I kept teasing her. I could tell she was getting into it, and lost my composure and made it expressly about Mike. "Do you let him fuck you at the gym? Huh? Does Mike get to fuck you when you're all hot and sweaty? I bet you sneak into the shower you suck him off in there, don't you? Huh? You like that, you little slut?" Her face got flushed and she buried her head into the mattress. She muffled her screams but I could hear her, "Oh god, yes, fuck me Mike, fuck me harder." My name is not Mike, but I fucked her slutty little brains out. I must have shot a gallon of hot cum into her, and she had an incredibly intense orgasm, and passed out sleeping for a few hours. I decided that I needed I know who this Mike guy was. The next day, I left work early and got to the gym around the time my wife was supposed to be there. To my disappointment, I saw her working out alone-no Mike. I tried to casually ask at the desk, but the girl there said that he was off today. I ran into Rachel on my way into the locker-room. "What are you doing here," she asked. I don't always see her at the gym because her office is so much closer to home. "I'm a little tense from work. I thought I'd get a sauna, maybe some laps in the pool." "Good," she said. She was in workout mode, so I left her to it and headed to the locker room. It was early in the afternoon, so they gym was mostly empty except for housewives and employees. When I got to the locker room where the men's sauna was, I stripped down and grabbed a towel. There was only one other guy in the sauna. I hadn't seen him before, but I gave him the acknowledgment head nod and took a seat on the opposite bench. He was tall, very athletic and good looking. Neither of us were in a talking mood, and we both sat with our eyes closed and heads tilted back, enjoying the heat. Like I usually do, I started to imagine that this guy was Mike, and began to fantasize about him fucking Rachel. I would steal a glance at his six pack abs and his sweaty chest, imagining my wife overcome with lust, draping herself all over him. I imagined her sitting right there in front of me, his hand grabbing her ponytail and her pretty head bobbing up and down in his lap. She was sucking his massive cock as I watched her pussy get wetter and wetter, her ass wiggling seductively. Not surprisingly, after a very short while I had a raging hard on. The heat and the fantasy made it very hard to hide it. I tried pressing my forearm into my lap, which didn't really help. I was pretty sure the guy was asleep. He started pitching a tent himself. I assumed he was enjoying his own fantasy. His hard on was enormous, though. I'm not gay or bi, but seeing this guy's cock and already imagining him fucking Rachel with it, it was all I could do to not pull my cock out and jerk off right there. Fortunately, some old geezer opened the sauna door. The guy across from me jumped up and looked a little embarrassed about his erection. The old dude quietly grabbed the bench between us and shortly thereafter, the younger guy got up and left. My hard on died pretty quickly with the old geezer not even bothering to cover up his junk. I headed for the showers a few minutes later. The shower was empty, so I hung my towel up and started washing up. I zoned out for a bit, and let the water run over me. I turned around and saw the young stud from the sauna showering a few spots over. He gave me a sheepish head nod, still somewhat embarrassed from the hard on, I guess. His cock was in fact massive. Even flaccid, I could tell it was a whopper. I could also tell that he was in incredibly good shape. Not an ounce of fat and completely shaved. I tried not to stare, but I couldn't help thinking about my innocent wife, Rachel wrapped around him. I turned the water to colder to kill my growing chubby and headed back to my locker to get my swim trunks on. A few minutes later, the guy showed up at the locker right next to me. He laughed nervously and said, "Dude, I swear I'm not a stalker." "Okay," I said, kind of amused. He shook his head, obviously having one of those, "I can't believe I have to explain this" moments. "It's just—I was embarrassed about the sauna..." I tried to cut him off by raising my hand, but he kept going. "I mean, I was just fantasizing about this woman I know. She was in the gym earlier, and I couldn't get her out of my head." "No problem, man," I said, trying not to betray my own fantasies. I could tell he was a nice guy, and what guy hasn't been infatuated with a woman? As I walked out, I decided to give him some fatherly advice, "you should go after her, man. Women want it as much as we do." He laughed and shook his head. "Thanks dude, but she's married." "Let that be her choice," I said shrugging. He laughed, but I knew that it was the truth. I was also imagining I was talking about my own wife. I headed for the pool and got a good swim, still thinking about stud boy and Rachel. I got out and got dressed quickly, hoping to catch Rachel and suggest we grab dinner on the way home. She was still at the desk when I got there. "Still here," I asked. "Oh, hi!" She nearly jumped out of her skin. My wife seemed a bit flustered, which was really weird for her. "Um, yeah, I was just, I just, um, I just ran into someone." She stammered as she walked in my direction, but seemed to be shooing me away. I backpedalled a little, and looked behind me to see if she was leading me somewhere. "I'll see you later," she said, forcing a casual tone. Just as I turned back to her, the office door opened. Rachel had moved back toward the desk, so it looked like we weren't together. "Here's my number, call me anytime," stud boy from the sauna said, as handed a slip of paper to my wife. His name tag said "Michael." Rachel had turned her face and shoulders as far away from me as she could. Mike, who had to be about 6'4", was as sheepish as school boy and also beet red. Because of the distance between Rachel and I, and because he was staring at her overflowing sports bra, Mike didn't notice that I was even there, much less that I was Rachel's husband. When he looked up, I winked and gave him a thumbs up before Rachel could turn around. I grabbed a random pamphlet from the other end of the desk and walked out, pretending I wasn't with Rachel. Rachel did her best to avoid turning my way. She stared at the slip of paper with the stud's phone number, which fluttered in rhythm with her nervous little fingers. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * That night, after we fucked our brains out, Rachel told me it was just harmless flirting. I saved my earlier interaction with Mike for myself. It was fun watching Rachel get all excited about a new boy, and trying to figure out whether he liked her. Especially when I knew for a fact he had a giant hard on for her, literally. I tried to reassure her that I was okay with her experimenting. She saw my cock getting harder as I talked about it, but she kept insisting that she was just flirting and it got out of hand. This went on for a few weeks. I would tease Rachel about her workout, and ask if she called Mike for some real "personal" training. She would usually blush a little, and say she doubted he was really interested. Sometimes, she would take the bait and go with the fantasy. We would have a monster fuck session. About a month later, though, she started getting annoyed when I brought up Mike. I figured we had burned through that fantasy, and she was bored with it. She told me to stop bringing it up, so I dropped it. I tried a few other fantasies, but she didn't want to play anymore, so I dropped the whole cuckold thing completely. We still had great sex, but she didn't want me talking about other men. A few weeks after that, I was at the gym again and ran into Mike. He recognized me from the sauna, and struck up a conversation. "I'm not a stalker," he said with an easy smile, "but I am heading to the sauna." I was too, so we went together. I introduced myself, but he still didn't know I was Rachel's husband. I decided to have a little fun and not tell him. "So how did it go with the hot chick I saw you with that day?" Mike was seated across from me, with his towel loosely around his waist, his legs spread casually. "Oh, yeah—that's right! Thanks for your advice, man. I gave her my number after you and I talked." "So..." I prompted, knowing he had been shot down. "Well, I told you she was married," he said. I give him my best "you win some, you lose some" smile. I debated whether I should tell him that Rachel was my wife. Before I decided, he added, "she took a while to come around, but man, was she worth the wait." Suddenly, my stomach sunk into my feet, my mouth dried up and my pulse pounded. Against my will, I heard myself ask, "No way! What happened?" He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Well, at first, she was reluctant, and I thought I had struck out. I'm actually a trainer here, and she's one of my clients," Mike explained. "The next few sessions were kind of awkward. She's normally into her workouts, asking questions; a real serious client. But for a week or two after, she was a lot quieter. "You saw her that day, right," Mike asked. I could only manage a nod. "She's a petite little firecracker—right? I mean she has the tightest little ass, and those tits—Oh man." Mike leaned back and looked into the ceiling, lost in his memories. He briefly flicked his hand across his cock through the towel as he described my wife to me in graphic detail. I could see he was getting aroused, reliving his memories of my wife's body. "And her face! Oh man! You should see those cute little lips when they're wrapped around my cock." Mike looked over at me, and caught the shock registering on my face. "Oh, I'm sorry man. You probably don't want to hear this." "No, man, this is awesome," I heard myself say to Mike. Against my wishes, my cock was straining against the towel and drops of precum were dripping out. Mike continued, "so about two weeks later, she comes in for her normal workout. I noticed she was still quieter than usual. I'm trying to be professional, so I'm just giving her clinical pointers, but I can't fight this massive chubby every time I see her. She's doing squats on the free weights. Up and down, and I'm just mesmerized by her gorgeous fucking ass in those yoga pants. I'm imagining her squatting that tight little body onto my cock. "I must have zoned out because I didn't see that the weights were shaking. Here I am imagining burying my cock into that luscious ass, and she's about the drop the weights!" He was smiling as he gave a surreptitious tug on his member through his towel. "At the last second, I lunge forward and grab the bar from behind her. But she's so much smaller than me, so I got to squat under her, and like I said, I've got a massive chubby going. I lift the weight up to rack it, but she's practically sitting that tight little ass on my cock. I know she can feel it, because I can feel her warmth through my shorts, and I start getting harder, she starts getting flushed, and I look down over her shoulder and so those massive, gorgeous tits bursting out of her bra. My dick is almost fully hard, pressing into her ass, through the yoga pants. I almost came right there. "So anyway, I rack the weight, and we slowly move apart. I try to keep cool, but we're both a little flustered. She cut her workout short, and I'm thinking she's gonna fire me. Hey, at least I have a good story to jerk off to, right? She takes forever to change," Mike said. I knew that she had probably been masturbating furiously in the locker-room. "When she finally comes out, she just says, 'see you tomorrow.'" "Wow," I manage. I can feel my own precum dribbling down my thigh. "The next day, she comes in, and I swear, she's out to tease me. She's rubbing her ass up against me, 'accidently' grabbing my biceps, brushing her hand against my pecks. She even 'accidently' brushed her hand across my cock! No joke! I was standing by the weight rack, and she puts one hand on my hip, pretending to balance, and reaches across my hips with the other, brushing her hand across my cock. She didn't even grab the weight—but you know what she said, all coy?" "What," I asked, trying to pretend it was against my will. "She said, 'oh, that's bigger than I thought.' She was trying to say she meant the weight! What a little tease." I couldn't agree more, I thought. "So this goes on for the rest of that week, and then all of a sudden on Friday night, she calls me up." "When was this? Last Friday?" I don't know why I wanted to know. "No, it was about a month ago. The 15th, I think it was." I remembered I was out of town for work a few days and had to leave on the red-eye Friday night for a weekend retreat with a client. "She calls me up," Mike continues, "and says, 'do you know a good masseur? I think my neck is bothering me from when I dropped that big, hard, rod.'" "No way she said that." "I swear, she did. She was turning it on something fierce. I do sports massage on the side. So I tell her that I can help her with that if she wants. She says, 'Oh, great! Can you come to my place?'" "What about her husband," I ask. "That's what I asked. I wasn't sure, but I figured either he's cool with it, or she's a fucking cocktease from hell. Turns out, he was out of town on business. So I get there, and she's wearing nothing but a light blue silk robe." I knew the one he meant. "I'm used to seeing her in her gym outfit and a ponytail, but she's even hotter with her hair down. She tells me to set the table up in the bedroom. "I try to be professional and turn away while Rachel—that's her name, gets on the table. I turn back and she's buck naked and barely covering her ass with towel that would be small for a facecloth." Mike is giddy telling the story. "She is just oozing with sex appeal. But I'm trying to play this cool. I start doing my massage thing. Using some of the oil I use, asking her where it hurts. But her arm keeps brushing up against my cock, getting less and less subtle each time. And I'm only wearing shorts—I went commando just in case. "She turned up the heat to like 90 degrees, and with all her teasing, I'm drenching my t-shirt. She tells me to take it off, and I don't see why not. When I turn back, the tiny towel covering her ass has found its way further down, and her ass is practically exposed. My shorts and that tiny towel are the only clothes either of us are wearing. Personal Trainer "My stiffy is getting harder to hide, and I'm right at the head of the table, working her back and neck. I slowly work down her back, and she slowly wraps her hands around my waist. That's all the hints I needed, so I just reach over and grab a nice firm handful of those gorgeous ass cheeks. I'm bent over her," Mike explained, "so her head in my abs, her hands are around my waist, and both of my hands are pulling on her ass. She spreads her legs a little, and I can feel the heat and moistness of her pussy on my fingers. "Holy shit," I let out. My cock was straining for release. "She lets out this long moan and, right then, she pulls my shorts down like nothing to it." My stomach was now exploring my toes and my mouth was so dry it hurt to swallow. This young stud was telling me how he defiled my wife, and I couldn't get enough. "She reaches for my cock with one hand and kisses it," Mike said. He's now developed a stiffy of his own and is shamelessly pulling on his shaft, as if he needed to adjust his junk while wearing only a towel. "She's like worshiping my cock, kissing the head and tracing her little dainty fingers along my shaft. She's moaning and licking her lips. I couldn't take it. I buried my finger in her tight little pussy, and she swallowed my cock like a pro." My cock jumped at the implication that my wife was an expert at oral. "Holy shit," I repeated. "Oh man, can that girl suck cock. She could fucking give lessons." "Yeah," I said, trying not to sound wounded. "So that's it, she just gave you a blowjob?" "Fuck no!" Mike said, almost sounding offended. "We both had about three months worth of pent-up frustration! She had me in her mouth for about a minute before I threw her on the bed and fucked her brains out." Mike went into vivid detail about my wife's sexuality, her ass, how her pussy felt from the inside, the noises she made. I knew, of course, most of that, but with me, she had never made some of the grunting and squealing noises Mike said she made. "At first, she kept saying, 'oh my god, you're so big, so big!' It's not my first time, so I know women say that to most guys. You know, to get us going. But then she was like, 'oh god, you're so much bigger than my husband.'" A short spurt of cum shot involuntarily from my cock. "By the third time that night, I don't even think she knew her husband's name." "Really? Three times that night?" "Actually it was closer to like five or six. We fucked like rabbits." He went on to describe in perfect detail, all of the rooms in my house where he fucked my wife. "We were at it for days! We both called in sick the first few days that week and just fucked like crazy. I mean, like hanging from the chandeliers, repressed nympho stuff. My dick was raw by the end of it." "I'm surprised it ended," I said, honestly. "Well, her husband called to say he was coming home Wednesday night." "Oh, too bad," I said, remembering that call. "It was so nasty though." I was afraid I knew where this was going. "I'm sitting on the couch drinking a protein shake, trying to get some energy back. The phone rings, she gets it, and starts talking to this poor fucker. As she's talking, she drops to her knees and rips open the robe I'm wearing and shoves my limp dick in her mouth!" "Oh, wow," I stammer. "She's blowing me, trying to get me hard, while talking to her fucking husband. 'Mmm, hmmm,'" Mike was mimicking my wife with his cock in her mouth as she talked to me. "That's not even the nasty part," Mike added. "When she gets me fully hard, tickling my balls, all that, she turns around and mounts me, reverse cowgirl! She's bouncing up and down on my cock, going 'Yeah? Mmm-hmm, that sounds great honey. Okay, I'll see you tonight then. Can't wait.'" I remember that conversation. She was out of breath; I thought she was jogging. "I take this as a challenge and start driving deeper into her, as far as I can go. I pull her tiny little waist down in me, driving my cock as deep into her as ever! She's still talking to her husband, still composed, so I slip my thumb up her ass." "Holy fuck!" Rachel had never really tried anal with me. I had played with her ass a few times, but she always batted me away. "Yeah, man. She lost it! She starts slamming herself onto my dick and thumb. And then leans over and makes me stand up, and starts slamming into me doggy style. She goes, 'hold on, hon, I got a call on the other line,' and puts this wimp on mute. She kicks it into overdrive, practically screaming at me. 'Fuck me, you fucking stud. Fuck my ass, give it to me.' She's slamming her tight little body against my cock. My thumb is all the way in there, and I can feel my cock going in and out of her. She's grinding up and down. She's fingering her clit like a pornstar—it was crazy. "Finally, she comes. She tenses up for a minute and then keeps pumping into me. She nonchalantly gets back on the phone with her poor fucking husband. 'Hey, sweetie,' she says. 'Sorry, I'm out for a quick jog and Sue called. No it's okay,' she says. I get the feeling that she's holding him on the line for something. She pulls herself off my cock, spins around and pushes me flat onto the couch. She plants herself between my legs again and pushes my legs into the air. 'Oh, honey, one more thing,' she keeps talking to this schmuck, even though it sounds like he wants to hang up." I remember that call. I was on a break when I called her, and I was trying to get back to the meeting with my client. Everyone in the conference room heard my end of the call, if not hers. "So she's between my legs, her pussy juices are dripping down my cock, lubricating my nuts and my asshole. I mean, this cute little wife is fucking nasty. She's talking to her husband, dragging this out, and goes, 'I did something naughty.' I'm like, fuck, she can't be telling this guy now. As she says it, she sucks my cock into her pretty little mouth, deepthroating me. She pistons up and down a few times, then slips her finger up my ass and hits my prostate. I fucking erupt all over her face. I mean, she was drenched in my cum. In her hair, down her chin, all over her tits. I'm sure there's still cum in that guy's living room. "I'm practically screaming as I cum, but she's covering my mouth with her hand, so her poor schmuck husband doesn't hear. I hear him going, 'whattya mean, honey?' Then, doused in my cum, she goes, 'Oh sorry, I swallowed a bug. Well, I spent a little on the credit card. Never mind, we'll talk tonight,' and hangs up. What a little nympho." "Wow," was all I could do. My raging hard on was pretty obvious, and I didn't see the point in trying to hide it any longer. Mike was also sporting wood shamelessly. "Yeah, that was a fun couple of days." Mike was again lost in his memories of my wife. "So that was it, huh?" I knew it wasn't. I imagined them fucking every time she went to the gym. "No way, man. She's a fucking nympho. She's been living on my lap for a month now. She keeps me so damn busy, I'm having a hard time seeing my other clients. In fact, she's coming over tonight for an all-nighter again." "Really?" Rachel hadn't mentioned to me that she would be going out, and I knew that I wasn't leaving town again until next week. "What...what about her husband?" "I dunno. I guess he's traveling again. She said she wants to do something more adventurous, so she invited one of her friends tonight. She won't tell me who, but it should be pretty fucking awesome!" Just then, another guy walked into the sauna, and the conversation died down. Mike left a little while later, and I left in a daze shortly after that. As I was getting dressed, my phone went off. It was my wife, Rachel. "Hey honey, I have some bad news." I had a feeling this was going to be a lie. "You remember Petra from the office? She's the receptionist you always ask about." There are no ugly women named Petra, and Rachel's receptionist was not exception. She was tall, had huge tits, long legs and a gorgeous face. "Yeah," I managed, a lump in my throat. "She just broke up with her boyfriend, so I'm taking her out for a girl's night tonight. Is that okay?" "Sure, honey," I offered sheepishly. "You can take care of yourself for dinner? I may be home pretty late." "Sure you will, slut," I thought to myself. Later that night I got a text from my wife. "Honey, it's been really long one for Petra. I'm going to stay over tonight. See you tomorrow." I'm sure I'll hear all about this from Mike. Personal Trainer One evening last week, I invited a friend up to my apartment to watch a ball game, drink some beer and, hopefully, play around a little. Darren is a personal trainer at a local gym and has the body to prove it. We'd enjoyed each other a time or two before in the shower at the gym and I wanted to get to know him better. I had already showered and met the handsome, green-eyed Darren at the door wearing a pair of cut off jeans and a smile. It looked like he had come straight from the gym wearing workout shorts and a t-shirt that did little to hide the fact that he was an avid weight lifter. I could hardly keep my hands off of him, but somehow I managed. We shared pizza and talked while the game was on. Then Darren started telling me about his newest client. "This straight-laced dude comes strolling into the gym and asks for me by name. You can practically smell the money on him," he said with a laugh. "You know the kind." I nodded. I knew exactly what he was talking about but my thoughts were really somewhere else. "Anyways, he tells me that he wants me to come to his house and work with him about three times a week and he doesn't care what I charge. So I doubled my price and he didn't bat an eye," Darren said, still laughing. "Wrote me a check for the first month right up front." "Good for you," I said, wondering if I was going to have to write Darren a check to get what I needed from him. Then he told me the "rich guy's" name and I almost fell off the sofa. "Man, that's my boss. He lives in the big house...," I pointed in the direction of the house. "You're shittin' me," Darren scoffed. I shook my head. "No, really. I'm his gardener." "Small world," Darren said, shaking his head. "Hey, maybe you could come over and work out with us." "Maybe," I said, running my fingers along Darren's thigh. "Right now, I'd like to work up a sweat doing something else." Darren grinned. "I thought you'd never ask." He leaned forward and kissed me, his hand exploring my crotch. Darren made a little surprised sound when he found me half-hard and growing quickly. He straddled my lap, pinching my nipples playfully, and our kiss deepened. Moaning, I parted my lips and his tongue explored my mouth. I don't think we'd ever kissed before, not like that anyway, and it thrilled me. It must have excited him, too, because he rubbed his crotch back and forth against mine. Tangling his fingers in my hair, he pulled my head back and licked his way down my neck and across my bare chest. Damn, I'd forgotten how hot you were," Darren whispered. His hot breath on my ear and his hot body against mine brought me to a full erection. Darren slid off of me onto the floor and rubbed his face back and forth against my crotch. "Oh, I'm gonna have to suck that big boy," he breathed, tugging at my zipper. His words were music to my ears. "Let me help," I whispered and together we removed my shorts and tossed them aside. Then I relaxed back against the sofa cushions and spread my legs, giving Darren all the room he needed. His tongue started at my asshole. He jabbed the point of his hot tongue into my puckered hole, making me squirm. Then he moved his mouth to my balls. When they were wet, he worked his way up to the tip of my throbbing cock. He tickled me with his tongue until I was moaning and then his tongue slithered back downward again, ending in my asshole. He continued this until I was grinding my ass against his face and moaning in frustration. Finally, he pushed two fingers into my rectum and settled down to some serious sucking. He made a tight ring of his lips and forced them down over my dick, teasing me with his tongue at the same time. Finally, he freed me with a wet slurp, stood up abruptly and pulled down his shorts. His dick leaped into my waiting hands, the tip already glistening with pre-come. I lapped that up eagerly and listened to his grunts of pleasure while he tried to fuck my mouth. I, too, could play at that teasing game. "Let's get comfortable," I told him and joined him on the plush carpet on the floor beside the sofa. "It's gonna be a long night." Not to be outdone, Darren rolled me onto my back and pinned me down. I spread my legs and he knelt between them and kissed me, his mouth as demanding as before. At the same time, he pressed his cock against mine and rubbed them together sensuously. Breathing hard, drenched in sweat, we maneuvered into a 69 position with him on top of me. I swallowed his cock and he sucked mine at the same time. Before long both of us were moaning and fucking each other's mouths with abandon. I swallowed his sweet pre-come and sucked hard for more, probing into his slit with the point of my tongue. He used his hands to milk the boiling come up out of my balls and into my shaft where he coaxed it to the tip with his hot mouth. Without breaking our rhythm, Darren rolled over and pulled me on top of him and that allowed me to get myself under control again. Now, my head was bobbing steadily, taking as much of his length as I could, while I fucked his face. I paused for just a moment, pulled my mouth free and gazed at his prick which was glistening wet with my spit. Darren made an animal-like sound and pushed his thumb into my asshole. That set me off and I barely got his prick back into my mouth before I was shooting my hot load down his throat. My orgasm triggered his and soon, I found myself struggling to swallow his healthy load. We lay still for a few minutes, licking each other clean and I rested my head on his thigh. Suddenly, Darren slapped my sweaty ass. "Come on, let's finish watching the game." I stood up and pulled him up with me. We kissed again. "And then I'm gonna fuck that sweet ass." I could hardly wait for the game to be over. Personal Trainer From the beginning I should say that I don't usually go for muscle-y guys, or even "hot" guys. I crave a particular kind of dirty hot that escapes most sought after modern men. They're too pretty. But every now and then I catch a glimpse of a perfectly chiseled torso and I get it. It feels very animalistic to admire a great torso and anything that makes you feel primal also makes you feel sexy. It's a feeling like yes, this is the human form in it's most perfect condition and I would not at all mind being underneath it. This is all to say when I met my physical trainer I was not intimidated by his striking appearance or his Zac Effron abs. Of course he was going to be hot, it was his full-time job to look ridiculous, like being an underwear model but with more busy work. I greeted him with, "I think you should know that I hate working out." I thought he'd laugh or at least smile, but he just locked eyes with me and said, very seriously, "That's not good." My heart sank. I had signed up for a personal trainer because I did hate working out. I didn't even know how to use a gym. I'd played soccer in school and I loved playing a game, but I hated the workouts involved. Now that I was out of school and writing full-time, I spent way too much time on my ass to not learn how. I foolishly hoped he would take it easy on me. "You're going to start by emailing me every night to tell me everything you ate that day." "Oh," I replied, "I don't think I have an issue with my diet, I'm just looking to learn how to stay in shape." "No. I need to review what you are putting into your body. It affects what I will have you do in our sessions." He was so serious. And so I began ending every night with an email to my stoic trainer, John. I tried to be conversational, explaining anything that looked too unhealthy: Hi John, Here's my food for the day: Breakfast: 1 egg white/1 egg slice of cheddar cheese sriracha Lunch: 1 slices wheat bread turkey/lettuce/mayo 1 bag pop chips 1 chocolate donut (a coworker brought them in for her birthday) Snack: string cheese Dinner: Cheeseburger and 1/4 serving of fries (it was a first date, I couldn't order a salad!) No response. He never responded. He only looked at me disapprovingly when it came time for our weekly session. "Adrienne, you're going to stick to your meal plan this week. Or else I'm going to be forced to punish you next session." "Isn't working out punishment enough?" "You haven't seen anything yet." He smirked. It was the first time I'd seen anything resembling a smile. He looked good. It was then that I realized how attracted to him was. I'd thought about him all week, how I needed to impress him by sticking to my meal plan or by including a funny comment at the end of my email — and how he didn't crack until he talked about punishing me. What did he even mean? That second training session was harder than the first. Instead of just showing me a bunch of machines and how to use them, we did a circuit, and he watched me complete each rep. I was laying on a bench lifting small dumbbells over my head when I noticed how low he wore his pants. His hands were outstretched spotting me, causing his t-shirt to lift up a bit and exposing a few inches of his very lower abdomen. I think my jaw dropped a bit as I did a double take over his exposed body and up to his smirking face. Shit. He caught me staring. He was almost laughing now as he told me to get up. It was time for the treadmill. I followed him groaning internally. "I'm going to push the buttons for you, you're not to touch them. Got it?" What did he mean? "What if I need to run slower?" I asked him. "Adrienne, I know what I'm doing. You're going to need to trust me." He started me off at 4.0. I could almost walk. "This is a good pace," I laughed. "Nah, you're just warming up." He's an expert, I thought, just trust him this one time and see what happens. And so I did, and it was really an incredible workout. I ran faster and harder than I ever would have on my own and it sucked — but I stuck with it. "I think I can see a little bit about why people do this for fun," I told him. "I told you you'd like it," He said grinning playfully. "Now go hit the showers and I'll see you here next week." With that he slapped my ass, turned, and walked back towards the trainer's desk. What? What was he thinking? You can't just slap a woman's ass? That's like, sexual harassment or something. Plus, I was paying him money. The whole thing was weird. I should have been upset, but I wasn't. In fact, if I was honest with myself, I was giddy. I showered at the gym and replayed the moment a hundred times. Had he tried to pat me on the back and grossly misjudged the distance? Was it a force of habit from his football days? By the time I'd dried myself off and dressed again I'd convinced myself that it was a mistake. A meaningless mistake. But I caught his eye as I walked from the locker room to the front entrance. And I could have swore he winked. The next week I was vigilant with my meal plan. I wanted to impress John. I wanted him to be proud of me. Hi John, This is what I ate today: Breakfast: 2 egg whites, 1 egg onion and red pepper 1/3 cup skim milk Lunch: 1 whole wheat wrap 1 chicken breast 1 cup mixed peppers fajita seasoning Snack: 1/4 cup almonds Dinner: 1 chicken breast 2 cups broccoli 4 tbsp soy sauce 1 cup strawberries Hope your week is going well :) I used a god damn smiley face and he still didn't respond. But I knew he'd have an opinion on my improvement, I just needed to wait until our session. To my surprise, when I emailed him my final food log before our meeting, he responded: Adrienne, The gym is undergoing routine maintenance this afternoon. I moved our session to 10pm. John Of course this seemed suspicious. Of course it did. At least, I wanted it to be suspicious. I wanted it to be a farce, for this to be some made up reason for him to get me alone while the gym was deserted. But I couldn't be sure. John was so stoic. And he was perfect looking. Why would he be interested in me? But I spent extra time getting ready that night anyways. I wore new capri workout leggings that hugged my curves and I showered beforehand, so that my hair was clean and bouncy in my long pony. As I drove to the gym I decided I was nervous. Even if his excuse is real, I have a little crush on him. I want this to go well. I met him in the secluded, smaller area where we always worked. It was equipped with cardio machines and tons of free weights and weight machines, but it was a bit smaller and quieter than the main gym, for people to work with their clients. Right now, it was completely deserted. "Hi Adrienne." John was waiting for me, leaning against a treadmill. He had some five-o-clock shadow around his jaw. "Hi," I said meekly, probably letting on how nervous I was. "I told you if your eating habits didn't improve this week I was going to have to punish you." I looked up and John was suddenly in front of me, looming over my small figure. "But — I did improve! I did really well this week." "I know you did, and I knew you would. I just think a little punishment is what you need to be completely on the right track." It was insane, the things that happened inside me when he said punishment. It tugged at a place deep inside and I found myself too willing to feel it again to care that this conversation was reckless. "Okay." With that he was on me. He had closed the distance between us and my back was on the trainer's desk and his hips were pressing against me as his mouth found mine. He was a sexy kisser. Way more passionate than I'd expect, but controlled. Rhythmic. Even so, I couldn't cast my surprise and doubts aside. I moved away from him. "I don't think we should..." I said the words though I didn't really believe them. This was weird, we were in public. But I always wanted it. Like, really wanted it. "Adrienne," He said sternly, closing the distance between us, "I think we've established by now that I know what's best for you." He caressed my face with one hand before moving it gently behind my head where it closed, suddenly, on a handful of hair at the back of my head causing me to tilt my head back, exposing my neck. With his other hand on the small of my back he pulled my hips towards his, I could feel his erection as he began nibbling at my neck. I stepped back again, but this time to hop up on the desk and spread my legs so he could move between them, pressing his crotch aggressively against mine as we kissed. I gave in completely to what was about to happen. The thin lining of his gym shorts and my leggings wasn't keeping anything a secret. He started pressing his hips into mine rhythmically, I think he couldn't help himself. But realizing that I was going to throw caution completely to the wind and embrace this for whatever it was, I wanted to blow him first, to slow everything down. I slid off the desk and onto my knees in front of him. I looked up — he was smirking again. His low-hanging gym shorts were no obstacle at all and I simply pulled them down to reveal his erection. I was flattered that he was so hard for me. "Adrienne," He called from up there, "this is what you do to me." He put one hand on his cock and guided it into my mouth and his other hand on the back of my head, guiding my receipt of it. I was acutely aware that we were still in a semi-public setting and that this was a rushed and probably ill-advised encounter. But it seemed innocent, not dirty. We liked each other. We are humans. Why not give in to what our bodies are telling us? He was still guiding my blow job, feeding me his cock and then timing his hip thrusts with when he would push on my head and I would bob up and down. Just like how he'd been timing the speed and duration of my runs. I trusted him now. It had been the perfect practice. I could tell he was really into it be watching his face and feeling how tense he was down there. After a few minutes he guided me up and I removed my pants completely and laid back on the trainer's desk. He laughed for the first time since I'd met him as he grabbed my thighs and pulled my body into his, entering me. He thrusted hard as he held my thighs, ensuring I wouldn't bounce too far away. He was the same way he was when he was watching me lift, stoic, measured, controlling. He lifted one hand to caress my face and slipped his thumb into my mouth. I welcomed it into my mouth and swirled my tongue around it while I sucked on it. I wanted to show him that I trusted him. I think that turned him on even more because his speed increased and I delighted in turning him on and gave into the rhythm of his body on mine. He was going to make me cum. This whole time I'd been so good about not making noise but as I felt that tension roll up from my crotch through my bell and my eyes roll back into my head I began moaning. He quickly covered my mouth with his hand and lifted me off the desk, holding me in his arms and continuing to thrust into me while I came all over him. He laid me down again and came quickly after that. As we got dressed again he dismissed me for the night and I returned home to my first ever personal email from John: Adrienne, You've shown a lot of improvement this week. Looking forward to next. John.