“Let’s get down to business,” Jake said after I had stuffed my clothes into a cubby. “We’re going to hit every exercise in this room, and you’re going to max out. I want to find out what you can do so I can assess your level of fitness.”
We commenced with a grueling routine. For what it was worth, my nudity became a non-issue almost immediately. Jake had me doing more squats, lunges, sit-ups, and pushups than I could count. I hoped he was keeping track of the reps.
Before I knew it, the punishing circuit had the sweat pouring off my body. I was panting for breath, struggling to push myself off the pads for one last pushup. The only difference with this workout was the feeling of my nipples against the cold mats. It was thrilling.
I found myself doing things I didn’t know I was capable of. On the pull-up machine — I had to kneel on a pad and pull myself up, aided with a weighted counter pulley — I impressed myself with ten whole reps. Maybe Jake’s mumbo jumbo about the clothes and barrier thing had some kernel of truth in it. I took a second to gaze at him in the mirror. Or maybe I was just working harder to impress Jake.
I stared at myself. Sweat ran in rivulets down my flushed, naked body. This was the best workout I’ve ever had in my life. I just usually wasn’t so turned on at the gym. Jake was directing everything I did, correcting my form constantly. I loved it. I loved every second of obeying his commands. What did that say about me?
“Focus, Kim,” Jake snapped, bringing me back to the workout. “Let’s finish with cardio.”
I left wet footprints across the mat as I followed him across the studio to the treadmill. “I’m worn out,” I said, and it wasn’t a lie. My bare chest heaved, trying to get more air into my lungs.
“Complaining earns more reps,” Jake warned. I zipped my mouth and climbed onto the treadmill. “I’m going to control the speed,” Jake explained. “All you have to do is focus on running. Once you can’t give anymore, tell me and I’ll crank it down.”
He punched a few buttons on the console, and I took off. For the first time, I felt self-conscious. The faster I ran, the higher my tits swung. Behind me, I could see my ass bouncing in the mirrors. God, maybe my ex had been right about that flabbiness.
Jake upped the pace with a touch of a button. I had to stop thinking to focus on my pace. The slap of my feet against the tread felt good despite the sting. My ass, thighs, and calves felt coiled and powerful. My ponytail brushed my shoulders at each bound. I was actually enjoying myself.
Jake increased the speed again, and I started to struggle. My muscles were beyond burning. I couldn’t keep up. “I’m spent,” I gasped, pumping my arms. “Turn it off.”
“If you still have the breath to tell me you’re done, you still have the breath to run,” Jake said grimly, increasing the speed yet again.
I had to push myself to keep up with the tread. “I’m done!” I cried. “Turn it off!” I pumped my arms, my lungs on fire, my muscles bunched and shaking. I hazarded a glance at Jake, but he kept his gaze on the treadmill console. I took one last shuddering breath and made my peace with face planting on the treadmill when Jake turned the pace way down.
The moment I could, I staggered off the machine. I didn’t care about anything except oxygen. Bending over, I grabbed my knees and sucked air.
“Good job,” Jake said, laying his hand on my heaving shoulder. The touch might as well have been on my clit. His hand seemed to conduct sexual electricity. I felt I should be able to smell my arousal it was so strong.
After a few minutes, I was able to speak again. “That was the best workout I’ve ever had,” I managed, still winded.
“I told you I was the best,” Jake said, cracking a smile. His grin was dazzling. If I hadn’t been already attracted to him, the smile would have sealed the deal. “This is only the beginning,” he added. “See you next week.”
I started to walk out the door before Jake cleared his throat. I was naked! I almost walked out into the world completely nude. I hurried to pull on my discarded clothes and stumbled outside.
As I drove away, I marveled at the whole session. How could I have been so turned on while working so hard? Jake seemed the perfect mix of sex god and motivational coach. My friends were so right to recommend him.
I parked the car in my driveway and shut off the ignition. I swung the door open and nearly fell trying to step out. My muscles shook, and I could barely stand. The best workout of my life was going to be the death of me if I couldn’t even get inside my house.
I managed to lurch inside, barely in control of my gelatin limbs. I ran a hot bath and shucked off my clothes, eager to soothe my aching muscles. Slowly, I sank into the tub, reflecting on the workout. Sure, my body had been pushed to the brink. But I couldn’t ignore how worked up I was about being around Jake. Despite him almost literally working my ass off, I was irresistibly attracted to him.
The hot water eased my aches, and I started focusing more on Jake — the muscles, that incredible smile at the end of the session. I licked my lips and plunged my hand beneath the water’s surface to tease my clit. I promised him I would do anything he said, and I meant to keep that promise. Small waves radiated from my submerged arm as I imagined just what I might obey. Steam hung heavy in the air, and I enjoyed the small spray of water splashing on my chest as I pleasured myself.
I trailed my hand down my face, imagining Jake’s strong hands on me. I fantasized about him holding me steady, telling me to push myself. Hell yes, I’d push myself. I’d push myself back against his cock. I closed my eyes, pretending Jake was fucking me doggy style. I pushed two fingers into my pussy, sighing at the sweet ache. If only it could be Jake’s cock inside me instead. I could practically see and feel our muscles straining against each other, our sweat mingling and running down our bodies. With a groan, I came, the bath water lapping at the sides of the tub at my thrusting hips. I couldn’t wait another week. I had to see Jake again soon.
I pulled up to Jake’s studio and turned off my car. During the week, I had called and practically begged Jake to increase our sessions. After I understood my attraction to him, I couldn’t keep it in the bag. I had to see him.
I got out of the car and started to walk across the parking lot to the studio. At that moment, another woman left the studio, patting a towel against her sweaty face. I nearly froze. The stab of jealousy confounded me. Of course Jake would be seeing other women. He was a personal trainer. But he was my personal trainer, and I didn’t even want to consider the rest of his clientele when I personally felt so aroused around him.
I shook off my feelings and walked into the lobby. Jake was just walking out of the inner studio. “Glad to see you’re back, Kim,” he said, holding the door open for me.
We stood looking at each other, sizing each other up until I tore off my workout clothes, now worn just to walk into the studio. I stashed the clothes in the cubby.
“Now that I know what you can do, I’ve developed a workout plan for you,” Jake said, studying a clipboard. He looked into my eyes. “This plan requires trust and dedication. Don’t question me. Just follow my instructions.”
Whatever this plan was, I knew I would do it. I was incredibly aroused again. Just being in Jake’s presence transported me back to my fantasies in the bathtub. I wanted him to tell me what to do. It made me wonder — did I crave being dominated?
Jake handed me a jump rope and backed away. “Let’s get warmed up,” he said. I started jumping, slowly getting into a rhythm. Reflected in the mirrors, I watched my breasts and ass bounce. Was it my imagination, or did I look leaner already? I increased the speed of my hops, feeling the tug of my swinging tits amid the slow burn of my muscles coming to life. It felt good.
“Good,” Jake said. Startled, I stopped jumping. I blushed and thought stupidly for a second that he could read my thoughts. “Let’s work on arms,” Jake said, moving to a set of parallel bars. I looked at them dubiously, thinking of Olympic performers and what I was going to be able to do.
&
nbsp; Looking at me closely, perhaps to gauge my reaction, Jake pushed a box mounted with what could only be described as a dildo on it between the bars. I blinked at it and looked back at Jake. “Sometimes we need extra things for motivation,” he offered, then indicated I should begin.
I was so wet I wondered why it wasn’t dripping out of me. Was I really going to do tricep dips onto a dildo? I positioned myself over the box and gripped the bars. Hell yes, I was. I slowly, slowly impaled myself on the dildo as I lowered my body into the dip, my legs bent and curled so as not to touch the floor. I made I contact with Jake, and moaned. What delicious torture — my arms shaking, completely skewered on a silicone dick.
“Push yourself up,” Jake said calmly, but I could detect an edge to his voice. Was this turning him on as much as it was me? I gasped at the sensation of the dildo leaving my pussy as I propelled my body up to complete the rep. “One,” Jake said, then cleared his throat. “Go to ten.”
I lowered myself again, faster this time, eager to feel the dildo inside me again while Jake watched. I had never felt so erotic while working out — ever. I moaned again as I managed to rub against my G-spot, then pouted as I pushed up, sliding off the dildo. “Two,” Jake counted.
My arms quivered, but there was no way I was going to stop. Even faster, I drove myself down onto the dildo, the pleasure curling deep in my belly. I pushed up and drove down again. And again. And again. The burn in my arms extended to the rest of my body and juxtaposed the exquisite pleasure of burying the dildo in my pussy. Sweat poured off me, and my juices coated the faux cock. The pleasure drove me to continue beyond my limits, but finally, I couldn’t push myself up anymore. I remained impaled on the dildo, my arms shaking badly.
“Good,” Jake said softly.
I gasped as I put my feet on the ground, relieving the strain from my arms. I slid off the dildo one last time. “How many did I do?” I gasped, rubbing my triceps.
“Twenty-five,” Jake murmured.
I gaped. “Motivation, indeed.”
“Let’s do a little cardio,” Jake said, pointing at a recumbent bike.
I flopped gratefully into the seat and began to pedal. Anything that wasn’t arms was welcome. When I reached a certain speed, the console lit up and the seat started vibrating. Startled, I stopped, and so did the vibrations.
“You control everything on this bike by your pedaling,” Jake explained. “If you stop, it stops. Motivation.”
I grinned and started pedaling. The vibration began accordingly, buzzing my ass and pussy. The feeling was positively kinky. I pedaled harder and was rewarded with stronger vibrations. My tight hole convulsed at the stimulation, and I tossed my head and moaned on the bike. There had to be a first time for everything.
I closed my eyes but peeked at Jake from under my lashes. He actually licked his lips, watching me get off on the exercise. If anything, it made me even hotter.
The vibrations were reaching a fever point, radiating to my clit and making me wonder if I would come right then and there despite my screaming leg muscles. The vibrations actually made me push my calves and quads harder. I couldn’t tell if my ragged breathing was from the exercise or the pleasure. My panting became punctuated by moans and whimpers. I was so close, I was going to —.
“Good, enough,” Jake said.
I opened my eyes and stared daggers at him. “I think I was about to have a breakthrough in my fitness,” I gasped, the promise of orgasm draining from my loins.
“Not before we do some core work with medicine balls,” Jake said.
I stood up reluctantly from the bike, wincing as I peeled my sticky, sweaty ass from the material, and barely caught a heavy ball Jake tossed at me. “Jesus, what does this thing weight?” I asked, turning it and looking for markings.
“Don’t worry about that,” Jake said. “All you have to do is hold it with your arms straight out, no matter what.”
I complied, immediately feeling the ache in my already maxed out arms. I drew in a sharp breath as Jake stood immediately behind me, just touching my bare body. “Focus,” he said. My arms were already quaking as he slipped his hands down my sides and tickled my cunt. I gave a low whine that turned into a squeal as he inserted a hot finger into my pussy. “Focus,” he repeated.
I was so horny it was all I could do not to drop the ball and accost him. He twisted his finger inside me, expertly teasing out moans and whimpers. The ball felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. I wanted to throw it across the room, but I knew Jake would stop. I didn’t want that. Hell, no.
Jake worked me to the brink of climax again, pushing against my G-spot and pinching my clit before stepping away. “Enough,” he said, and I dropped the ball to the floor. I whipped around and reached for him. He held his hands up. “We have to continue our work on the core —.”
“Continue your work on my pussy,” I interrupted, lunging for him and capturing his lips with mine. Our tongues clashed, wrestling, as Jake’s hands gripped my bare ass. He suddenly grabbed a weight belt and pushed me to the floor.
“Hold yourself up,” he commanded. I braced myself on the padded mats as he snaked the belt around my waist, holding both ends like reins. With a tug, he pulled his shorts down, exposing his magnificent cock — better than what I had imagined. He nudged my legs apart with his foot and sank into my pussy, filling me to the core. In the pushup position, I struggled to support my weight and the power of his thrusts even with the support of the belt Jake held.
“God,” I moaned, arching my back as his dick rubbed my G-spot. “I’ve wanted to come for hours.”
“Not yet,” Jake said, and pulled out. I slapped the mat in frustration as he yanked me to my feet. “We still have some exercises to complete,” he said.
He retrieved the jump rope and tossed one end over a chin-up bar mounted on the mirrored wall. He tied my hands above my head and stood back for a moment, admiring his work. I looked into the mirror, lingering on both of our nude bodies, sculpted by hard labor. He came close, and I took the initiative to wrap my legs around his waist. He pushed his cock into my pussy again and resumed his thrusting.
I squeezed him tightly with my legs, using every muscle to steady myself against his sexy onslaught. I grabbed at the jump rope and pulled myself higher, screaming at the strain on my body and my pussy’s dire need for an orgasm. “Let me come!” I shouted. Jake pushed me against the mirrored wall, the shock of the coldness against my sweaty back tearing another scream from my throat. He drove into me, grunting and suckling at my neck. Finally, sweet release — my orgasm, so torturously denied, crashed down upon me. I came howling, clawing at the jump rope’s knots, squeezing my legs around Jake’s rippling muscles. My own inner muscles clamped down on his throbbing cock, forcing his climax. He pulled out quickly, groaning, and sprayed his hot cream all over my toned abs.
Limply, my legs dropped from around his body, and my knees trembled. Jake unfastened the knots, and I collapsed into his arms. “Good,” he said softly, patting my back and steadying me.
“Good?” I said when I could speak again, narrowing my eyes at him. “Fucking great is what that was.”
“Excellent,” Jake amended, giving me that dazzling smile. I kissed him long and hard.
“When can we do this again?” I asked, looking at us in the mirror. We made a stunning couple.
“Your next appointment is on Friday,” Jake said. “We’re really going to take it to the next level.”
I raised an eyebrow. “The next level?” I repeated.
Jake nodded.
“Excellent.”
The Personal Trainer Part 2
by Eva Morrison
I stared at my naked body in the full-length mirror attached to my bedroom door, twisting to look at my lean back muscles and tight ass. Call me a narcissist, but I was looking damned good. I flexed my foot, watching my calf muscles respond. My breasts were high and firm, testaments of endless pushups and bench-presses. I took my tits in my hands, hefting them and thu
mbing my nipples. This was the best my body had ever looked, and it was because of one person: Jake. When my friend, Rachel, first recommended that I start seeing a personal trainer with “special methods,” I was a bit skeptical and more than a little suspicious. Three months later, I couldn’t imagine life without Jake. I practically lived for our sessions together, and not just because of how good I looked in a mirror.
I was startled by my cell phone. I turned my back on the mirror and dove across the bed to answer.
“Hey, Rach.”
“Hey, yourself,” she answered. “What are you doing?”
“Just getting ready to go work out,” I said, smiling as I thought about Jake. What delicious exercises would he have me doing today? I wondered.
“What? That’s not for like two hours!”
I rolled over to look at the clock, then slapped my forehead. “This day is dragging by.”
“Uh huh.” I could hear Rachel roll her eyes. “Sounds like someone’s hot for the personal trainer.”
Sensual Erotica (Vol. 1): 26 Erotic Stories Page 30