She wasn’t hungry. She wasn’t even head-hungry. She was, however, excited in every way a woman could be excited. From the butterflies in her belly to the tingling in her fingertips and toes, and that pleasantly uncomfortable sensation between her legs when she knew she was going to get some…she was anticipating a remarkable lunch hour.
The gym was quiet at noon. Only a handful of members were visiting—and all those were in the aerobics’ room. Even the desk clerks looked bored behind a large stack of folded white towels.
Maggie stripped out of her work clothes as quickly as she could. She swore under her breath as her nails went through her pantyhose. On workout days, no nylons. I’ve got to figure out how to wear my office attire and gym clothes at the same time. To save time.
She neatly folded her blouse and skirt, clocking how much time she needed to sweat, orgasm, clean up, and buy a new pair of stockings before heading back to work.
The enchanted treadmill had been moved slightly. The carpeted floor around it looked freshly vacuumed. Maggie felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought someone had touched her treadmill. Her treadmill. I’m looking forward to exercise. This is wrong on so many levels. I’m a human version of Pavlov’s dog. Ring the bell and I salivate. Step on the treadmill and I come. I’m expecting sex. I’m expecting public sex at the hands of a jinni…or whatever the hell he is. Or isn’t. He could be a complete figment of my imagination. A hot, Italian figment.
Christ, I’ve believed in the Djinn, ghosts, and things that go bump in the night all my life. Why shouldn’t I have one sniffing around me? Open your mind, Maggie…
She tossed her towel over her shoulder and hopped onto the electronic beastie, noting embarrassingly that she had a slight spring in her step. Everything should be accompanied by an orgasm, not only exercise. Grocery shopping, paying the bills, going to the dentist for a cleaning. Everything, except shopping for a new handbag, shoes, or eating chocolate because they are already orgasmic experiences.
“Adanto?” she whispered.
Nothing.
The pangs of panic built in her gut. What if it had been a joke?
She felt her cheeks flush as she set the speed and incline on the treadmill. It was so embarrassing to be used as the butt of a joke. But then, that was what pranksters liked.
Embarrassing.
Humiliating.
Hurting.
The machine whirred to life. Maggie trod along, head down, dejected and empty. Where was Adanto?
The soles of her feet grew warm as though being bathed in a hot paraffin bath. Damn…it felt good… “Adanto?”
“Yes. I’m here. Sorry I can’t be more obvious. The TVs are off. How are you?”
Maggie felt his words crawl up her legs like little rivulets of vibrating energy. Like a mild shock. Not unpleasant, but certainly enough to get one’s attention. “I’m all right. But you just saw me not fifteen minutes ago.”
“Way too long a time span now that we’ve met.”
“That’s both romantic and a bit possessive of you, Adanto. Don’t creep me out, all right? I’m still pretty sure I’m in a coma, and when I wake up, I’ll find out I had a barbell fall on my head on my first day at the gym or something.”
“I am real. Djinn are real. Now, are you going to try twenty minutes today?”
“On this thing?” Maggie snorted.
“On that thing, yes. Speed it up a little, take longer strides, and let me show you what a good mechanical jinni can do. Let’s burn some calories, Maggie.”
She couldn’t see him.
But oh, my…she felt him.
Warm invisible arms enveloped her. Soft lips caressed her throat. His invisible touch made her skin tingle from cheeks to toes. It lifted her. Removed her from the confines of the gym.
She ran with him. Running across a field of lavender and rosemary bushes as high as her head. The fragrance penetrated her senses. It caressed her skin as she dashed into the breeze, hand in hand with the dark-eyed Adanto.
The taste of lavender on her lips as sweet as “sugar in the raw” coated scones. She laughed. It sounded like bells. “I’m running.”
Adanto stopped and pulled her to the ground. They landed in the lavender and wildflower mix, rolling through the dense foliage like children playing a game.
His hands were upon her.
He caressed her breasts through her T-shirt. The stimulation of his palms against her nipples sent waves of desire through her. Did he instinctively know how she liked to be touched? Who cared? He was doing it all right.
She closed her fingers around a lock of his hair and urged his lips to hers. She wanted to manhandle him. Own him. Make him submit to every fantasy she’d ever had.
She rolled atop him and sank her teeth into his throat. Just a love bite. She wiggled against the rise in his jeans. This time, she was going to see it. Taste it. Invisible porkery had been fun, but she needed a visual on the foreplay.
“You have lots to offer a girl, don’t you?” Maggie rubbed herself against his bulge.
“I have what you need.”
“We’re still at the gym and I’m still walking, right?”
Adanto nodded. “No one but us knows what’s really going on.”
Maggie slid down his body and ran her face over his crotch. He had 501s on. Buttons. Damn. I hate buttons. She unfastened each little brass fastener from its double-stitched well.
He wore black boxer-briefs. She reached inside the front slit and ran her fingers along his shaft. Smooth, really hard. Thick. Uncircumcised.
“Free me, Maggie,” he whispered.
She chuckled. She pulled his dick out of his shorts. “You’re perfect,” she whispered in return. She ran her tongue from pelvis to head and then encircled her mouth around his penis. She laved his tip for a moment, relishing his male perfume, then lifted her lips to speak. “I must be Goldilocks…‘cause this is just right.”
Adanto splayed his hands across her head. Maggie purred, and he massaged her scalp while she sucked him. She wanted to make this sensual hallucination of Adanto’s fitness boot camp a memorable one. For him.
“Swing around. Take off your pants and suck me while sitting on my face.”
Maggie slowly slid her mouth off his cock. It glistened in the sunlight, a hard-as-steel rod jutting up from the middle of a field of flowers. She stood and quickly pulled off her clothing while Adanto did the same. Maggie giggled as he wrapped his right hand around his dick and gave it a few good strokes.
“You do good work, Maggie. Now come here and let me return the favor.”
“If I come, is this over?” She moved into position as he demanded.
“You can’t spend your entire work day on the treadmill, now can you?”
“Shit. I’m on my lunch break.” Sudden panic gripped her.
“Just relax and let Adanto send you back to work with a smile on your face.” He buried his face between her legs as she sucked his dick down her throat as far as she could take him.
Maggie’s core stirred as he probed her opening with his tongue. It felt so damned good. She released his dick and stroked it against her face as Adanto’s oral assault encouraged her.
She was sandwiched between delicate layers of rich, decadent pleasure. The lavender, the flower of her own orgasm, the man, his salt. She stroked him to orgasm, his semen spilling over her throat and chest, then sighed as the sounds of his satisfaction reached her ears. She liked the sound of Adanto’s release and found his pleasure fulfilling and stimulating.
She could have come from the sound of his orgasm alone, but even mid-climax, Adanto didn’t break stride. With quivering body in post-climactic spasm, he continued pleasuring her until she came against his face, spilling her own nectar. Still, he didn’t stop. He consumed her orgasm. He breathed it in like an oxygen-deprived man. He lapped at her swollen bud and stole what he could from her pussy as it gave over its female love-flow until she had to move away. It was too much. Too much pleasure.
; Every miniscule nerve in her body seemed on high alert. Even the sensation of a lavender flower against her flesh caused her to shudder.
Moments later, she was ensconced in his embrace, reclining in the grass under the warm sun. “I’ve been here before. In a dream.”
“This is my home. This is Florence. The Tuscan region of Italy. I grew up playing in this field.”
“What happened to you? What took you from this to being a servant of a treadmill?”
“It was my choice to live and serve humankind. When the offer was made to me, I was dying, as had all those I loved. I became a Djinn during the height of the plague in Europe. 1348. And at the very moment I was created by the compassionate will of my maker, Umberto, your soul came into the world. Abbiamo un'anima—we shared a breath and share a soul. You have lived many lives, and I have watched you from afar. Until now. My first breath as a Djinn, and your first breath as you were pushed from the body of your first mother all those centuries ago, were the same one. We have always been together, but always just as apart. Until now. I have waited for you to reincarnate into a situation wherein I could be of service to you. Several lifetimes of yours, I have waited in the shadows of your soul—until now. I swear to God, the words until now shall never again be a part of my vocabulary. Until now, I could not love you. Until now, we were apart.”
Maggie rolled onto her side. “So that’s why we’re called breathmates. I get it. As strange as all this seems, I’m really enjoying this.”
“It is strange only because the mortal world no longer recognizes the Djinn as servants of God and humanity. Our connection to humankind—of Djinn to human breathmate—it is the most romantic connection in the universe. We are breathmates, Maggie. You and I filled our lungs at the same moment with the same sweet air, though, for you, it was another lifetime, and for me, it was the beginning of this one.”
“What if we had never met?”
“Then we would go on. Our lives do not depend upon our joining. We would live, never knowing the supreme love of Djinn to human. I knew it was time to approach you when I felt the trepidation in your heart about your health. I could not allow you to suffer later in life from poor choices made in your youth. Whether or not I pass through the veil of my world into yours for all time, I could not allow you to suffer.”
“My trepidation? Health? You mean my high cholesterol and decision to lose some weight? That’s what brought you out of hiding?” Maggie paused. “I get it. When I walked the mall parking lot in the heat and thought I was going to die and sweated like a pig and knew it was time for a change…”
“Well, I am your personal trainer, aren’t I? Would you be as interested in working out if I chose to inhabit your microwave?”
“It would certainly make microwave popcorn a much more interesting treat. But, Adanto, I accept you for what you are, and I am happy you are in my life.”
“Maggie?”
“Yes?”
“It’s time to go back. You’ve done a remarkable job on the treadmill today.”
“I don’t want to go back. I’m happy with you.” Adanto knew how to rain on a girl’s parade.
“You’ve got to be happy with yourself first. Then the door will swing wide open and I’ll pass through.” He made it sound so easy.
“Are we going to meet up someday? Not like this, but on my home turf?”
“Je souhaite. That is my wish, my love.”
Chapter Five
Maggie was surprised at how wonderful eating “right” made her feel. There was joy in choosing a piece of string cheese over a high-calorie candy bar. It was a near rapturous experience to only need one trip through the buffet line. The weighing and measuring and recording of fiber, carbs, and calories were like designing a treasure map. The withdrawals hadn’t even been that bad.
Of course, that was probably because she was amazingly sexually satisfied and a little sugar headache could, in no way, bother her. She figured her calorie intake had been decreased by over a thousand points per day, while her activity level had increased tenfold. It had been a week since she’d joined the gym. A week since her life had been filled with Adanto, jinni of the treadmill. No longer did she need the afternoon candy bar, or two. No longer did she crave chips and salt. No longer did beer look more appealing than water.
Maggie had made friends with celery. And made peace with tuna.
The gym was no longer a demilitarized zone.
It was the source of magic.
She’d never had so much sex without actually doing the deed. And the more time she spent with Adanto, learning about his life, sharing hers with him, doing each other until they were spent—it all made her want him on her turf. Sure, his dick inside her was pretty damned tasty in the Djinn nether regions of the cosmos, but she wanted him down and dirty on the side of the road with cars zooming by. Screw the lavender and rosemary. She wanted hot, sweaty sex in the bucket of an excavator after scaling the fence of a construction yard at midnight. She wanted him in her ass in the mall photo booth. She wanted to give him head in the dressing room at Big K.
Tuscany was lovely, but it was far from the sexual encounters she wanted to share with Adanto.
And it wasn’t just the sex making her walk and eat healthier and say an emphatic “no thanks” to doughnuts in the breakroom. Maggie had set her cap on health and had felt her mindset change when she’d made the decision to get her weight and cholesterol down. That change had manifested in physical ways, topped off by the ever-bellisimo Adanto.
“Can we visit another setting when you whisk me away for the jinni mind-fuck?” The treadmill whirred to life early Saturday morning on the start of her third week.
The TVs were off, but she didn’t need them to see Adanto. They’d melded together like solder to iron, and the moment she wanted him, he was there.
“Alas, my love, we are limited in venues for our sessions.”
“So, what if I want to ride you in the front seat of my car at a stop light?” That sounded like fun, actually.
Adanto laughed. “You are so full of life, Maggie.”
“I’d like to make a wish, Adanto. I can do that, yes?”
She felt Adanto shudder. “A wish? I wouldn’t…”
“I can do that, right?”
“You can. I am yours to command. But making wishes could be counterproductive at this point.”
“I don’t get that. Djinn live to grant wishes, right? And yet you seem to fear me making a one. What’s with that?” She wanted a wish, dang it.
“Wishes can sometimes lead to unpleasantness. I can grant a wish, but I do not have control over how it is realized. It is both a blessing and a curse to accept one.”
“All the same, I want to know how I can get you into my realm. Must I make a wish?”
Adanto took a deep breath. “That’s not a wish. That’s a discussion.”
“Can we chat about it without me making a wish? What if I insist you answer me?”
“I am required to answer you truthfully and completely without reservation. Thereby, to bring me into your world, you can do it the old-fashioned way. You know…je souhaite, but there are always consequences with wishes. And if I were to materialize on your plain, it would be only temporary. I can’t stay there unless I am retired from service, and I can really only offer you two wishes before offering the great gift of Djinn to human, and human to Djinn, for that matter. The third wish must be treated as a gift to the Djinn from his or her human. If you refuse the gift, then you are free to request a third wish, but then I am gone. My time there will be complete, and I can never return. Or at least I’ve never heard of a jinni returning before.”
Maggie harrumphed and closed her eyes. “All this sounds like fodder for a fairy tale, Adanto. The restrictions are ridiculous. Oh, and do I have to wish in French, as in je souhaite, or can I just say I wish?”
“You can just say I wish.” Adanto sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “But you must be careful what you wish for. If you w
ish for me in your bed, I could end up being your sheets. The wish-granting properties of the Djinn are not without sarcasm.”
Maggie agreed. “Which is why when someone on TV wishes for peace on Earth, they end up alone in the universe.”
“Correct.”
“Adanto, this whole big mind-fuck is frustrating. I’m at a point now where I’d use the treadmill whether or not you accompanied each session with an orgasm. What I’d like is for you to be home when I get there. I want to watch a movie with you. Share books and music. Go for walks. Do it for real, you know?”
“If I were not dwelling within the aura of the treadmill, you would continue to use it?”
“Yes. It takes, what…twenty-one days to break a habit and replace it with something else? It’s been sixteen. I’m losing weight. My blood work is better. I have more energy, and I’m not going back.” Not ever. “I’m going to live a long, happy life—thanks to you, Adanto.”
Adanto beamed. “My mission has been successful. I’m proud of you, Maggie. You are an exceptional woman.
“Then tell me what to wish for.” Maggie was getting frustrated.
“Please, don’t ask me this. Can you trust me a little longer?”
Maggie released an exasperated sigh. “As you wish,” she whispered. “Now, how’s the weather in Tuscany?”
Chapter Six
Monday found Maggie feverish and stuffed up. The thought of doing anything besides sitting under a blanket made her temples throb. Her chest ached when she coughed or sneezed, and early in the morning while her fever must have been at its peak, she’d mentally developed a design for an automatic tissue dispenser built into a hat because her nose was like a faucet. A true sign of delirium.
Adanto wanted to summon a physician. Maggie told him to take a break. No exercise. No sex. No lengthy conversations. She wanted to be alone.
Adanto disappeared into the ethers, promising to reply to as much as a whisper of his name. Maggie had not been alone in weeks. But now, she felt, and truly was, completely solitary. His absence affected her deeply. More so than she had thought it would. She missed him.
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