Free Erotic Stories

The Benefits of a Gym

It was with some trepidation that I approached the place. A casual observer, on seeing me tentatively push through the doors, might have thought that I had no business there, or that I wasn't a customer, and may have instead assumed that I was going there merely to repair a vending machine or a cash register. Still, needs must, and I had to start somewhere. I had settled on this particular establishment for the sole reason that a friend of mine had recommended it.

I'd had enough of curling with bags of sugar stuffed in a shopping bag, of press ups on a threadbare carpet inhaling dust as my hoover was broken, of halfhearted jogging around the block and everything else that I had been doing in increasingly fruitless attempts to 'improve' my physique. I was fed up to the back teeth with being the last of my posse to get picked up on nights on the town, if I even got picked up at all, and even then it was invariably by women who were carrying a few too many pounds of cholesterol and saw something in me that they desired in themselves - skinniness. One of them had even asserted to me that skinny guys were supposed to be attracted to fat girls under the principle of opposites attracting.

Pfft. Not this guy, I told the pushy overweight slapper in a text message after kicking her out of bed the next morning. I hadn't been out with a proper fit bird since I was fifteen, and it hadn't taken long for that one to kick me into touch when some guy far more 'buff' than I showed an interest in her budding curves.

No, something had to change. I didn't want to be the last resort of slovenly skanks feeling amorous after a few too many glasses of vodka and clingingly desperate after meatier guys had laughingly turned them down by telling them to 'get real'. It was time to change, time to haul myself up the romantic food chain. Life as a bottom dwelling flatfish had become far too depressing.

The sugar bags sure as hell weren't working. All they had given me were some little knots where other guys had bulging biceps, and a hint that there was something waiting to be discovered where triceps usually lived. My flat chest hadn't moulded and hardened the way the magazines promised it would, and all the protein crap that I had bought and consumed was as much use as a fur coat in a bikini contest. It went in the top, then got flushed straight back out the bottom - well, not the bottom, but I'm sure you get my drift - within 20 minutes. Coffee did the same to me, funnily enough. Nope, sugar didn't cut the mustard at all, so it was time to seek professional advice. And besides, I'd collected enough sugar to keep me in sweetened coffees for three hundred years. At least. Unless I ended up marrying a fat bird, of course, in which case my sucrose mountain might last no longer than a couple of weeks......

I pushed in through the double doors to the gym. A brawny guy at the desk looked up from his men's health magazine with a questioning look, probably assuming that I was lost and had just stuck my head around the door to ask for directions to the nearest video gaming arcade or comic book store.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm looking to join. Do you do a trial period or something like that?" I asked.

"Ten bucks an hour, twenty for the evening or two grande for an annual pass." He shrugged.

Fucking hell, I wasn't going to be spending 200 hours at a gym - or one hundred nights - in a twelvemonth. It would be less hard work and a damn sight cheaper to rent a decent hooker once a month. Twice a month if I could find one from Poland, Hungary or Latvia. I slapped down a twenty.

"Help yourself. Changing room is through there." The man smiled as he took my money and pointed at the door. "Nice crowd in tonight. If you do something wrong then one of them will probably help you out."

Yeah right, after they've all stopped laughing, maybe. If I was lucky one of them might even dial 911 for me when one of the machines ate me.

I changed into my gym kit quickly, stuffed my bag into a locker, and with something in between nervousness and terror eased myself into the room as inconspicuously as I could, hoping that nobody would notice.

How was I to know that every time the gym door opened a dozen heads would instinctively pop up to check out the incoming competition? An image of meerkats popped into my head and I struggled to suppress a smirk. The last thing I needed was to burn up any good will the patrons might show toward a newcomer before I had even started by appearing to be laughing at them.

I scanned the room carefully, taking in the mixture of odd looking mechanical equipment and old fashioned wooden accessories scattered about. A couple of women pounded along on high tech digital treadmills listening to their ipods, two guys raced each other on rowing machines, making noises like old steam trains used to. A fat bird was abusing some weird contraption that simulated climbing stairs. By the look on her face she was about a third of the way up the Eiffel tower. No way was she making it to the top without the express elevator and I didn't much fancy her chances of making it back down again without the assistance of four strong paramedics, a stretcher and an ambulance with a reinforced suspension.

In a corner of this spacious room three guys stood around a fourth who lay flat out on a bench, an impossible weight on a bar resting right above his nose as he psyched himself up to make the huge disks of steel budge. One of the three onlookers positioned himself behind the bar, his crotch close to the weightlifters head. I wondered about body odour, and if the guy preparing to lift the massive weight was looking up the leg of the other guys shorts. Was it gym etiquette to go commando, I mused? Then I wondered if the weightlifters face would end up squashed as flat as his abdominal muscles if he dropped it.

A grunting noise caught my attention next as I carefully wound my way through the scattering of torture equipment in search of either a treadmill or a rowing machine to warm up on. My head turned to track the noise, and my eyes widened when I realised the bundle of perfectly formed muscle making that noise belonged to a rather fetching woman.

She was petite. No, that's not right. The last thing you'd call a compact arrangement of masterfully sculpted musculature is petite, Short, with due respect to shortarses who object to being thusly described, would be a more accurate description. Five foot and a couple of inches, I figured. Shoulder length blonde hair framing a youthful face that looked alluringly feminine, and that's where conventional beauty ended, for the rest of her physiology was a fascinating study in human anatomy.

Imagine a body with every last scrap if epidermis removed so that all the sinew and muscle was exposed like a diagram in a medical text book. Gross, huh? Now imagine that admittedly disturbing frame wrapped in a membrane of ultra thin fabric, like latex or Lycra perhaps, and then complete the picture by painting the Lycra a healthy golden brown colour. Sprinkle on some glistening beads of sweat, throw some skin tight shorts and a clingy sports top onto that sculpture and what you had was more or less physical perfection, if your aesthetic tastes leant that way.

I had just discovered that mine did indeed gravitate toward such a form. I suddenly, and rather ashamedly, understood where fat birds were coming from when they said that skinny guys were often attracted to more rounded ladies. And I also instinctively understood where they were going wrong. While their assumption had been that a skinny guy should lust after flabby fanny under the principle of opposites attracting, which was true enough in reverse for them perhaps, the mistake that they were making was in assuming that because all fat bitches want to be thinner, then all thin guys want to be fatter, right?

Wrong.

While with some slender guys that assumption might indeed apply, in my case the truth was that I did not want to be fat at all. I'd rather stay a skinny beanpole forever than evolve into a rotund flabby bastard with a pot belly, man boobs, a double chin and bingo wings. What I really wanted was what that grunting specimen of womanhood possessed. That was the kind of opposite that I was attracted to. Indeed, it was why I was here in the first place. If I wanted to get fat then surely I'd be stuffing my face in a cake shop instead of contemplating agonising masochism in a fucking gymnasium.

Toned, defined, sculpted, cut, chiselled, buff, ripped. I ran out of adjectives that described how physically impressive her body was. Hard was another. Which, if I wasn't careful, might also be applying to me in a rather embarrassing way. I managed to wrench my gaze away from the display of musculature that clenched and relaxed in a surprisingly erotic manner as she threw herself with concentrated aggression into the cable machine, her eyes clamped shut and beads of sweat trickling down the side of her face. It was almost crashing into the fat bird on the step machine that forced me to pay attention to what I was doing and cease my brazen ogling of this blonde, bronzed goddess working out oblivious to everybody around her, but I made sure that the rowing machine I eventually settled on had a fairly good view of this eye candy. I settled into the seat and began my own workout, one eye on the object of my newly discovered fetish, the other on not getting my feet mangled in the machinery I was inexpertly piloting.

Presently the young woman exhaled noisily and released the machine from the pounding that it had taken, leaning forward, inhaling lungfuls of air that made her chest expand and contract exagerratedly. I noticed that her breasts were nicely defined, though their natural swelling had been flattened near the top by the transformation of fatty deposits into hard packed muscle. As a guy of the geek generation who had been surfing internet porn before most people figure out which end of a mouse to hold I found the form of her chest both intriguing and alluring. They were nothing like the boobs that I had fondled on women that deigned to date me in the past, and nothing like the tits on the digital models and porn stars that I had, for want of a better term, grown up with. I'd masturbated to tiny titties on petite late teen models, to perfectly shaped boobs in revealing lingerie, to large pendulous breasts on MILF websites and to massive silicon augmented mammaries in porn magazines and dirty movies, but this was something entirely different. In a lifetime of titty ogling that had left me somewhat bored and jaded by the gamut of mammarial flesh available for casual perusal, these things were little short of fascinating.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of water, or perhaps some isotonic fluid, and tilted back her head as she raised it to her lips. Her mouth parted to reveal perfect teeth as she formed an o with her mouth that, for some reason known only to myself, brought the image of a blow job to my mind. I watched enraptured as she gulped down a quarter of the contents of the bottle, a dribble of fluid spilling down her chin that she swept away with the back of her hand. I don't need to spell out what that reminded me of.

She began to cast her gaze around the room and I shook my head and returned my attention to my rowing machine before she caught me staring at her. I concentrated on the digital readout between my feet that told me I had splashed my way a hundred virtual reality metres downstream while drinking in the blonde's body. A normal guy, undistracted, would have probably travelled half a mile in that time I reckoned. When I eventually reached the five hundred metre mark without taking my eyes off the dashboard, I allowed myself a moment to home back in on my heart's desire.

Her back was turned to me this time as she performed a set of bicep curls with dumbbells in the free weights corner. giving me a decent view of her bulging legs and a torso that tapered from a wide spaced set of shoulder blades to a waist that, it seemed, was even smaller than mine, and that's saying something. But that wasn't what had caught my attention. Where her waist ended was where my interest reignited because her ass was absolutely phenomenal.

There was no spare flesh on those cheeks, let me tell you. Asses come in many shapes and sizes, and while most guys consider the perfect ass to be full and rounded, my hands on experience of them found them to be generally flabby, dimpled and in some cases so big that getting at the pussy between them was an experience akin to potholing. This woman's ass was a tableau of layered muscle showing with such definition through her shorts that she may as well have not been wearing any. It was small, it was tight, and where her butt met her legs I could clearly see the bulge of her pubic mound.

Well, there was no way that I was getting off the rowing machine with the erection that I was sporting by this time. My eyes were locked on her small, tight backside as I slid back and fore on the rowing machine. My own movements struck me as disturbingly erotic, my sex crazed brain analoguing the rhythmic motion with nailing that hot bitch from behind, the seat of the rowing machine slamming into the stops on the forward pull in perfect time with the twitching of her butt cheeks as her ass clenched visibly with each lift of the dumbbell.

I closed my eyes and suddenly her shorts disappeared and it was my hips slamming back and fore between them, and that lewd image had to be forcibly banished from my mind lest my arousal make me a laughing stock to anybody that saw it and pointed it out. Then she spread her legs wider apart and bent over to touch her toes as she finished her exercise with some light stretching. For a moment her pubic mound was clearly defined as a perfect camel-toe and I felt myself gulp involuntarily. With my normal sexual conquests it would have taken two hands, five minutes of repositioning flabby butt cheeks and a flashlight to get a glimpse of anything even remotely similar.

I would kill for an ass like that.

More accurately, I would kill for an ass like that wriggling on my face, or sat on my lap riding up and down the entire length of my rigid hard-on. I paused my rowing for a moment, a glance away from the blonde's tight ass to the digital readout revealing that I had just slammed my way over a good mile while ogling her rear, probably overtaking the two guys that had been rowing hard in their virtual boat race upon my arrival and still were. Well, perhaps not if I'm totally honest....

She moved away, exchanging a few words with the bodybuilders who were adding more weights to the end of a bar with seemingly suicidal intent, then picked up her belongings and left through a door marked staff only. She must work here, I figured. Personal trainer, I guessed. I used up another hour on the machines, eschewing the free weights, then left myself.

All the next day I could not get her out of my head, and I blew another twenty bucks on an evening session at the gym only to leave sweaty and disappointed that she had not been there. Perhaps she only went on certain days, or maybe only at certain times. It couldn't be a weekly visit, not with a body like that to maintain, so I parted with another twenty the next night, wondering how long it would be before an annual subscription actually became economical. Or my aches became terminal.

I was sore in places that I didn't know existed. When I moved, even if only slightly, there were bolts of pain bombarding my brain from all over my body. Muscle fibres that had been ripped to shreds by my exertions were slowly regenerating and boy were they letting me know about it. Although visually the differences in my appearance were not yet evident, the agonies that I was suffering were convincing me that the 'no pain no gain' mantra was a total lie, at least in the short term. I had the pain all right, but the gains seemed to be a little longer in coming.

The woman was a no-show again on the third night and on the fourth day I could barely move so I skipped the gym and went to bed early licking my wounds, both those physical and of the heart. I was gaining in confidence at the gym, though. I had made a point of studying what the other patrons were doing and learned how to use the various machines, copying the techniques and the etiquettes associated with fitness training. On the third night I had even gotten a nod of recognition from one of the regulars, a nugget of friendly advice from the guy at the desk to not neglect my lower half and I was almost certain that one of the 'larger' women pounding away on a treadmill had been lasciviously eyeing me up in precisely the way that I had been ogling my new muse. The way the woman's head had jerked away when I had turned to face her while dismounting the bench press was a bit of a giveaway. Previously I'd have probably tried to hit on her, but now my head had been turned by a whole new type of physique, so much so that I was googling female bodybuilders on the internet.

Some of them looked dreadful, with raised veins lining every inch of their bodies and even their faces, with thighs that looked more like robotic appendages than legs. My blonde was, fortunately, not as obsessive about it as the professional 'show-girls' were and instead had taut but smooth skin over her muscles and was unblemished by such prominent and, to my mind, unsightly blood vessels. She was the Christina Loken of Terminators.

On the fifth night my aches were manageable, more of a discomfort than severe enough to turn me into an extra from a zombie flick, so I headed on out to the gym intending to give my arms and torso a rest and instead work on my legs as had been suggested to me. I pushed through the door and the guy at the desk looked up from his muscle mag and smiled at me.

"Evening buddy, thought we'd seen the last of you when you didn't turn up yesterday." He laughed. "A couple of us ran a sweep steak over when you'd be back."

"I'm still aching up top so I thought I'd take your advice and work on my legs for a while." I explained.

"Shit, and I had you pegged as a no-show til' next Monday." He said, shaking his head. "Now I wish I'd kept my stupid mouth shut."

I laughed and handed across a twenty. "I'm Chris," I said, offering him my hand. He crushed it in his meaty paw, adding another ache to my seemingly endless list.

"Rupert." He nodded. Not the sort of name I would gave assumed a bodybuilder to have. I bit my tongue.

"Hey, if I fuck off 'til Monday I'll split the pot with you."

"Nice idea dude, but there's CCTV all over the place and if the boss found out she'd hand me my own butt because she's in the sweep, too." Rupert opened a drawer of his desk and pulled out a wad of ten dollar bills tied up with a rubber band. "Do me a favour and give this to the black guy in the red shorts and black top. He won."

I nodded assent, took the money and got changed. I counted it in the changing room. Ninety bucks. I contemplated bailing out and coming out of this whole deal up on cash to the tune of thirty bucks, but then realised that getting chased down the street by a gang of enormous, muscle bound fitness maniacs might have significant negative repercussions on my own physical well being. For a measly thirty bucks it wasn't worth the hospital time. Instead I stuck with the original plan and entered the gym, scanning the room for a black guy in red shorts. I found him doing sit-ups on an angled wooden bench hooked onto a wall mounted rack.

"Man, good to see you back!" He grinned as I held out my hand to him, his winnings bunched up in my fist. He slid off the bench and rose to his full height as he accepted the money. Jesus, the guy was six and a half feet tall and nearly that broad across the shoulders. I felt like a stick standing in front of a tree.

"Rupert didn't seem quite so pleased." I smiled back at him. "I'm Chris."

"Martin." He replied, counting out the bills. "I knew you'd be back. Needed a day to soothe the aches, yeah?"

"More than a day, man. Reckon I need a month." I laughed.

"We're all like that in the beginnin'. See that guy working on his traps in the corner?" Martin said, nodding his shaved head at a guy who looked more like a gorilla than a human being, "Well, he was no bigger 'n you when he first came here three years ago. He took one day off in his first week and then came right back next day. You reminded me of him."

Jesus, I hoped I was too pretty to end up looking like the bald ape that Martin had indicated to me. I was going to have to be careful not to get addicted to this game if I ever started to notice the differences in my musculature.

"So why did you come back so quick?" He asked.

Did I give him the truth, that I was stalking some blonde female health nut that I had seen here and was developing an unhealthy obsession toward, or lie and risk being caught out which would irreparably damage my standing in this man's eyes? In the end I figured it was better to bury a lie in a healthy dose of truth.

"There's this girl," I began, but he held up his hand and cut me off.

"Say no more, my friend." He grinned. "Its always a girl. Except when its a guy, of course." He added, winking with an exagerrated tilt of his head. "They say that size doesn't matter, and that may be true for the size of the dick you be swingin', but when it comes to getting noticed a decent body is way better than a pigeon chest in gettin' you outta the starting blocks, know what I'm sayin'?"

"That's exactly why I'm here." I admitted.

"Well you best get on with it then if time is such a factor that you gotta throw yourself back into this shit before the tears is repaired. Anythin' I can help with, you need a spot sometime, just ask, okay?"

"Thanks man." I said shaking his hand again as we parted. The joints that Rupert hadn't crushed finally agonisingly burst apart in Martin's fist. I hoped he didn't see me wincing as I headed off to the leg press and set it for a nice relaxing sixty kilos, wondering if my hand was dripping blood and leaving a crimson trail on the hardwood floor.

Needless to say I overdid it. After an hour my thighs were burning and my worn out calves trembled with the effort of holding up the slight weight of my slender upper body. If the regulars were going to hold another sweep when they noted my failure to turn up again tomorrow then I was putting a ten on myself for two weeks hence and not a minute sooner, and fuck the blonde goddess.

And no sooner had the thought of fucking the blonde goddess crossed my mind, than the woman entered through the staff only door and the screwing aspect took on a whole new meaning. I had a feeling that the one organ in (on?) my body that wasn't yet aching, and my right hand, might be suffering some serious friction burns come morning.

This time the object of my secret desires was wearing a baggy T-shirt and jogging pants that totally concealed everything except her face and forearms. Martin waved at her as she scanned the room, holding up the money that he had won and pointed in my direction. I must have looked like a rabbit caught in headlamps when she turned to me and frowned.

"Darn it, " She said, shaking her head as she stride past. "I had you down for next Wednesday."

"Honey, you can have me down any time you like." I quipped, hardly believing that the words had come out of my mouth. She turned around, her eyes widening and eyebrows raised, then she threw her head back and laughed out loud, showing me a set of perfect white teeth.

"Good one." She said, making a gun shape with her fingers and mimicking blowing me away. "Good to have a quick wit on board. I do like a guy that can make me laugh."

"You should watch me working out, then." I told her. "That'll really crack you up."

She nodded and gave me a toothy smile. "Perhaps I will." She said, tipping me a lewd wink, or at least one that I took as lewd, then she turned away and disappeared into the changing rooms.

For some reason I found my heart racing alarmingly, and I doubted that it had anything to do with my workout. I had been planning on calling it a night and changing myself, but following her into the changing rooms would have put both of us in an awkward position and I didn't want to make things too obvious. Instead I moved onto an available rowing machine, dialled the resistance down, and punished myself for a little longer.

Martin came over after a moment and took the machine adjacent to mine. "So, there's this girl, right?"

"You didn't give me a chance to say that I didn't even know she existed until I walked through that door."

"Fuck me...." Martin muttered, shaking his head. "In that case you and I got some major fucking work to do, my skinny little friend. Some serious fucking pain to endure."

I stopped my rowing and stared straight at him. "You offering to coach me?" I asked.

"Man, you sho gonna need all the help you can get with little Sian."

"Little Sian?" Short, yeah, but little???

"Her daddy used ta own this place. She's always been little Sian ta us old timers. And before you ask, I'm not goina help you for your sake. I'm helping you for hers. She's had a hard time since her daddy passed away and it ain't often I seen her laugh like she just did. But I warn you, dude, you fuck her around and people around here will fuck you over real bad, you hear?"

I turned to him, reached across with my hand, and this time I squeezed as hard as he did, though I doubted he even felt it. "Deal." I grinned.

"Jesus," Martin frowned back as we continued to shake on it. "Now I know how they feel at the start of an episode of Mission fucking Impossible."

Over the next few weeks my body began to change, albeit slowly but surely. Curves of musculature were appearing where previously there had been nothing but soft flesh surrounding bone. I could now count my abs by running a finger over them. When I showered water now dripped off my pecs whereas shortly before it would have run straight down to my navel. The sticks that had been my legs transformed into thighs and calves as new muscle build there filled them out, stretching the skin so tight that sometimes after a lower body workout it was an effort to walk the next day. I really did move like a Zombie.

And don't get me started on the pain. There were days when I understood how it must feel free to grow old and arthritic, where every movement yielded an ache, whether it were turning my head while driving or picking up a large cappuccino from the counter at Starbucks. Martin was always there egging me on, cajoling, encouraging, humiliating and threatening, pushing me that extra set of reps or up another five kilos on the bar. There were days when I could have shot him dead without hesitation and happily served my time as the bitch of some shaven headed prison thug, days when I would turn up at the gym hoping that he wouldn't come in so that I could work out at my own pace rather than at his, and there were days when the aches were so overwhelming that I just wanted to stay in bed and forget this seemingly futile pursuit of little Sian.

Then I would look in the mirror after a shower and silently analyse the changes wrought on my frame, when I would pull on a T-shirt and find it didn't fit any more, when at the cafeteria in work I would pick up a bottle of water, raise it to my lips and people would narrow their eyes at my inflating biceps and triceps. I'm sure I saw one woman lick her lips at the sight without consciously knowing what she was doing. Days like that made it worth the effort, even if it were costing me a fortune in new clothes to replace the old stuff that I had outgrown and in gym fees that were coming to almost a hundred dollars a week. The two grande annual pass was looking like a bargain now.

And then there was Sian. After that first meeting we had exchanged little other than nods, smiles and passing pleasantries. She saw that Martin had taken the role of mentoring me and left us to it. If she noticed me as anything other than a customer then I was totally unaware of her attentions, while you would have to be mentally retarded to not notice my obsession with her. Martin would frequently chastise me with a "Concentrate!" or with a rather nasty flick of my ear with his fingernail when my attention strayed away from what I was supposed to be doing and instead wandered toward what little Sian was putting herself through.

She seemed to be spending most of her time on stamina rather than strength, while almost all of the male bodybuilders focused on increasing muscle mass to the detriment of general fitness. I wasn't complaining. If she wanted to jog on the treadmills with her tits bouncing up and down then that was fine with me. If she wanted to test out the rowing machines, stretching the fabric of her shorts and shirts on each stroke then I wasn't going to complain about it, and if she wanted to climb Everest on the step machine with her ass moving in three delicious dimensions simultaneously, then I was not one to bitch about that, either. Unfortunately there were only two nights per week when she deigned to join the sweating masses in the gym, whereas Martin had me working for four or five. The other nights she was either manning the front desk, coaching womens classes in an adjoining room, out working as a personal trainer for women who had their own private gymnaseums at home or doing whatever hot birds do when they don't have to either work or workout.

Martin also educated me on little Sian's history as well, and while anecdotes on her past boyfriends didn't make my prospects sound very positive, it wasn't all bad news. She was, as far as he knew, single and had been for a while which gave her something in common with most of my past partners. A little desperation always helps to reduce standards. She was 27 years of age and lived alone in an apartment above the gym that she had inherited when her divorced father had died three years ago.

Her life had revolved around the gym from when she was still quite young, her ambition to become one of those professional women wrestlers that dazzle you with their fighting skills in skimpy outfits on WWE, or whatever acronym it goes by these days. Two factors had worked against her in that goal - she had worked so hard on her strength and muscle mass that she passed the threshold where her body became more toned than most television viewers would deem attractive. She had won several tournaments and competitions, both locally and nationally, but the big break never came because her body had been deemed too 'cut' for the television aesthetic. Then an awkward fall broke her shoulder and put her out of circulation for several months and now she was back on the road to recovery and, to my mind, taking it easy and not risking further damage by overdoing things.

Martin was reluctant to go into detail with regard to her relationship history, but did let slip that Sian was also in a period of recovery on that front after a bad experience with a fitness fanatic who let his excess testosterone and a steroid addiction get the better of him while forgetting that it was not socially acceptable to take your frustrations out on a member of the fairer sex. The shoulder injury had, he suspected, not been the result of a bad tumble on a wrestling mat as Sian had claimed it to be.

Which left me with a few glimmers of hope - that she was single, that she had been for a while, and that perhaps her experience at the hands of a bodybuilder had left her wary of another such relationship. While I was, technically, a few steps along the long, long road toward becoming a six foot tall mass of powerful muscle, I was still not much more than a skinny beanpole with above average muscle definition where geeks are concerned. She could still take me down effortlesly if I overstepped the bounds of propriety. With one hand tied behind her back, too. Thinking about it, she could probably kick my scrawny ass with both her hands tied behind her back. Blindfolded.

Then one evening in August Martin invited me to his 45th birthday barbecue at his home. Whilst a little concerned that I was going to be a wallflower at a party where I wouldn't know many people, I wasn't going to insult him by refusing. When I turned up it was carrying two cases of wine by way of expressing my gratitude for his help over the past month or so.

I needn't have worried about having a lonely afternoon. Aside from an overwhelming number of family members and work colleagues, there were a few faces from the gym that I recognised and who recognised me and made me more than welcome. After an hour or so of burgers, hot dogs and beers Sian, who had been indoor helping Martin's wife prepare the salad and the breads, came over to us and settled in. Her eyes lingered on me for a moment, and I thought for a moment that she was wondering how a skinny fuck like me had managed to fit in with a group of half a dozen brawny he-men, and then I understood what had just gone down.

It was just a case of taking the clues and assembling the jigsaw. Sian had just spent a fair while in the kitchen with Martin's wife. Martin's wife would, judging by the apparent strength of their relationship, have occasionally asked how his day had been, and the conversation may, at times, have come around to the little guy that he was spending a lot of his evenings with. If Martin had told anybody about why he was mentoring me, then it would be his wife. Who had just spent an hour or so with Sian. And girls talk. Everybody knows that.

I felt like a fly trapped in a web while its spider entered the parlour. Now would not be a good time to make a dick of myself, or draw undue attention. I clammed up, staying on the fringes of a highly technical to and fro conversational about exercises and fitness techniques, while also trying not to make checking Sian out too obvious. After a while I left without announcing it to take a piss and grab another burger from Martin who commanded the barbecue grill with the authority of a World War Two general.

"Hey, man, how's it goin?" He asked.

"Great party, Marty." I smiled. He frowned, sweeping his hand over the burning meat on the grill. "I'll take a burger, please." I said, picking up a bap from a plate and holding it out for him to slap the meat on. I added some salad and mayo and looked around the garden, watching the kids at play.

"You made your move yet, Casanova?" He grinned.

"Not yet. Your murderous exercise regime hasn't increased the size of my balls to the requisite dimensions for taking on a professional wrestler." I joked.

"You need to get in there, man. No tellin' when a dish like that could get taken off the menu."

"I hear you. Does she know?"

"Know what?"

"You know what I mean. Did your wife spill the beans?"

"What makes you ask that?" Martin said, glancing away momentarily under the premise of turning some sausages. That told me all I needed to know. If he hadn't told his wife then he'd have told me instead that Pearl didn't know anything at all about it.

"She gave me an odd look when she came over earlier," I told him.

"Maybe she was just checking you out, man, salivating over your tight white buns, checking to see how many boxes you tick."

"Well, if there's a box for 'who the hell does this geek think he is trying to hit on a foxy chick like me' then I reckon I got that one a nice big red X."

"Chill, man. If I didn't think you stood a chance I woulda told you so straight up and not spent so long wasting both of us time. Get your skinny white ass back in the game, I'll ask Pearl if she gabbed."

I nodded, told him what a fantastic barbecue chef he was even though my burger tasted more of char than grill, and was headed back to the group when out of left field a bright red Frisbee came speeding toward me. I reached up with my free hand and plucked it out of the air before it hit me in the face and looked in the direction that it had come from.

Three kids were playing catch, one of them Martin's youngest and the others probably extended family. A girl, six years old maybe seven, held out her hand for me to throw it back. I deftly flicked it in her direction and watched as it stalled in the air right over her head and then dropped neatly into her outstretched hands.

"Wow, cool mister! How'd you do that?" Martin's wide eyed son asked, and so I spent the next half an hour teaching the kids how to do various tricks and stuff, coaching them through wrist action and using falling blades of grass to gauge wind direction and strength. By the end of that time I had the girl demonstrating to her mother how to stall the Frisbee right over her father and have it land if not in his lap, then right on his head, a feat met with howls of laughter from the other kids.

"Now I can see why you needed those biceps pumped up." A female voice beside me commented.

"Oh, hi Sian. Nah, all you need for this is a good wrist action."

"Ha!" She laughed. "Best if I don't ask what exercise you get that from, Chris." She said, finishing her own joke.

I have no idea if I turned red, but if I hadn't then the sun had definitely chosen that moment to shine directly onto my face through a gap in the clouds. Martin hadn't yet come back to me with confirmation that Pearl had filled Sian in on my romantic aspirations, but putting two and two together again, I figured that she had done for sure.

I had been in a similar situation before, but on the other side of the coin. A colleague had once let slip over coffee that a woman we both worked with had the hots for me. Not in so many words, however. He'd asked me what I thought of her, if I fancied her, and then when I'd told him that she wasn't my type he quickly changed the subject. I didn't put two and two together on this one until later, when I noticed that Amanda was a little less friendly, certainly less chatty, and seemed quick to escape from me when I chose to engage her in conversation. It was only when I recalled that coffee time chat that I realised that he must have warned her off me, telling her that I wasn't interested.

However, when you learn that you have a secret admirer, and who that secret admirer happens to be, your perception of them suffers a significant change. You begin to notice them, for perhaps the first time, and start to imagine what it might be like to spend some sack time with them. If its been a while since you got laid, as it had been with me, perhaps you even start flirting with them, which must have confused the hell out of the poor woman given that she'd previously been told that I had no interest in her. Unfortunately, in Amanda's case, she had found somebody else to do the horizontal tango with and had moved on from her fleeting, unrequited fixation upon me. Unfortunately for me, that is, as by this time I had grown quite fond of the girl and wouldn't have minded bedding her at all.

Perhaps Sian was in the early stages of this psychological peculiarity with me. Now that she knew I was interested, and having had a little time to come to terms with it, perhaps that interest was beginning to reciprocate. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking on my part.

"So how are they coming along?" Sian asked, and her fingers touched the skin of my forearm, tracing up toward my elbow. I swallowed dryly. My skin actually, honest to god, burned beneath her touch.

I looked at her and my lips curled into an involuntary smile. "Is milady mocking me?" I asked.

"Not at all," She replied, withdrawing her fingers from a bicep that had tensed involuntarily at the contact. "Call it professional interest. As a personal trainer I'm curious to how you are progressing with a total amateur dictating your programme."

"I've got no complaints. Martin's given me a lot of his time, and done it free of charge. I couldn't have asked for better." I assured her.

"Sure you could." Sian retorted. "I love Martin, we go back to when I was little, but his no pain no gain approach is totally neanderthal. Take your warm-up for example."

"What about it?"

"It's so inadequate it might as well be non existent. That' s why you hurt so much - don't deny it, I've watched you and some evenings you look like you aged twenty years overnight. Martin neglects his warm-up routine, he always has, and he's passing his bad habits onto you."

"I did ask him about that." I admitted.

"Don't tell me - warm ups are for wimps, right?"

I grinned. Yep, she had Martin cold on that one. But my thoughts lingered on her confession that she had been watching me. The grin, perhaps, lingered a little longer than it should. "So what would you recommend?"

"It'd be easier to show you. I've got an open slot tomorrow night if you're interested. If you don't mind taking orders from a woman, of course."

"I've worked under women before." I said before I realised how that sounded.

Sian laughed out loud at my gaffe. "I'm sure you have. Bet you loved it, too." She said, her voice still ringing with laughter. "Ten o'clock okay?"

"Don't you close then?" I asked.

"I'm a busy girl. That's my one and only opening this week, right after an aerobics class." She shrugged. "And a warm up won't take long, anyway."

"How much?"

"Forget about it. It'll ease my guilt over letting Martin fuck you up."

I love it when women say the f-word. So long as they aren't using it every other word, that is. Unless that other word is 'me', of course. "I appreciate that." I said and held out my hand to her. She glanced down at it, took it hesitantly, and we shook on the deal. I was surprised at how delicate her grip was - I had expected her to crush my hand the way that a man would. Sian was, it seemed, more feminine than I was giving her credit for and while I lusted over the aesthetic of her carefully sculpted body, I loved the contrasting femininity of her demeanour even more.

I turned up a little before ten the following night, finding bodies - females of all shapes and sizes, to be precise - spilling out of the gym and into the cold, wet, dark street. I folded up my umbrella and waited for an opportunity to squeeze into the warm, dry reception foyer, finding Sian behind the counter and chatting animatedly to a trio of women who had lagged behind the rest of the class. Rupert was throwing a backpack over his shoulders as he came out of the male locker room and cast me an odd glance as he approached.

"Sleep late, dude?" he asked.

"Meeting somebody." I said, sure that I was reddening slightly.

"Ah, one of the fat class." He whispered knowingly, casting a glance over his shoulder at the three women who had hung back. "Nice going, kid. If its the tall one then don't waste your time asking her if she takes it up the ass. Been there, done that, and she wasn't at all happy cuz I didn't actually ask first." He winked at me, then he was gone, chuckling to himself as he put up his hood and disappeared into the rainy night.

Presently the last of the 'fat class', as Rupert had described them, left the gym and I was left alone with Sian as she locked the door. She looked incredible. Her yellow shorts clung to her ass, and her cropped top, zipped at the front to reveal some cleavage, showed a beautifully defined rack of abdominal muscles as she turned to me. I swallowed involuntarily as she smiled, wondering what I was letting myself in for. I felt like a soldier must feel when he knows that he's going into battle against impossible odds. Come into my parlour, said the spider to the fly. So here I was, sweating before the warm-up had even begun as the sexy spider eyed me up and licked her upper lip with the tip of her tongue.

"Right, let's get started." Sian said, clapping her hands together and rubbing them vigorously as she opened the door to the gym and gestured for me to follow. I shrugged off my coat and left it with my umbrella. "We'll start with some basic stretching exercises, limbering up, that kinda thing. Forget what you learned in phys-ed because most of that doesn't work. Just follow my lead and do what I do."

So that's what we did for twenty minutes or so, Sian giving me the basics of static stretching exercises but warning me not to do those before a workout, and instead to do them when I wasn't going to do any body building. She then demonstrated how to do a dynamic warm-up based on the muscle groups that she felt that I should be working on when I was ready to body build. It was a lot to take in, especially when she was doing it right in front of me, sometimes even guiding me through the movements, using her hands to put me into the correct stance and then guiding me through the exercise.

Her hands were everywhere, on my back, thighs, calves, stomach, shoulders, even occasionally on my butt as she 'helped' me through the stances and movement cycles. Her warm, minty breath was in my ear and in my face as she lectured me on the mechanics of the warm-up, her voice a low, throaty caress that was as much of a turn on as her touch was.

After the twenty minutes had passed she turned to showing me what I was doing wrong, starting with sit-ups. "You don't really need to do sit-ups, but I'd best show you how to do them for maximum benefit, because its a good abdominal exercise when you don't have access to weights or crunch equipment. Lie on your back, then lift your torso at the waist until it touches my arm, and then hold it there for five seconds."

I did as she had instructed, sitting up to about a sixty degree angle, my chest hitting her forearm as she knelt beside me and holding there. I thought I was doing quite well, but she just shook her head and said, "No, no, no, you're lifting your knees. Let's do this another way."

She quickly sat across my thighs, straddling me, pinning my legs to the floor with her weight. "Now go." She ordered, and I did a few more crunches before she shook her head again. "You're coming too erect before holding."

Fuck, I was going to be too erect in other ways if she wasn't careful. Not to mention coming. She held a hand out in front of her, and I did a few more sit-ups, holding when my chest touched her hand. She wriggled on my thighs a little to get herself more comfortable and I could feel the heat of her pussy through my jogging pants. "I think you're enjoying this too much." Sian commented.

"Hmmm?" I grunted as I held another five seconds at her fist. She glanced down, her lips crinkling into a smile as she gestured at the bulge at my groin which was indeed beginning to change from a shapeless, coiled up lump to something much more rigid."

"Now you're getting red in the face." She pointed out. "Am I working you too hard or is it getting harder all by itself?" She asked, her voice all sweetness and innocence, but her eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Sorry." I stammered. "Can't help it."

"You've got nothing to be sorry about." She assured me, inching herself up my thighs until her crotch was within inches of mine and leaning forward so that her face was just about where her fist had been. "Its quite flattering." She breathed as I executed another crunch and held it for five seconds, my face almost touching hers.

"Is it me or is this warmup getting hotter?" I asked as I lay down on the floor and prepared for another situp.

"Definitely getting hot." Sian whispered, and this time when I did the next situp I deliberately went a little further, allowing my lips to brush hers before immediately slumping back to the floor.

"Sorry." I exhaled with a sheepish grin, not meaning it at all.

"So you should be. That wasn't anywhere near a five second hold." Sian admonished me. On the next crunch our mouths met again, this time our lips parting and tongues snaked into each others mouths. For five delicious seconds we snogged hungrily, leaning harder into each other until the time was up and I allowed myself to ease back down into the prone position. "I want five more reps, buster. With a ten second hold."

"No problem." I grinned. On the first rep my mouth was practically r*ped by hers, my tongue sucked on so hard that I thought I was going to lose it. On the second rep her arm snaked around my neck, holding me against her long after the ten seconds had elapsed as she pressed her lips hard against mine. On the next rep she was moaning into my mouth, her hands caressing my nipples through my sweatshirt. On the fourth rep her hands had moved down to my flat belly while I drank her saliva like a man dying of thirst in a distant desert, and the final rep found us clutching at each other desperately, her hard nipples pressed firmly against my chest, her crotch hot and pressing firmly against mine, neither of us wanting to break the kiss until at least a minute had passed.

She wriggled on my lap, grinding her flimsily covered cunt against my formidable erection and moaned softly as the cylindrical form of my meaty shaft nestled comfortably between the engorged lips of her labia, albeit separated by a few thin layers of clothing. For such a short girl she was surprisingly heavy, though not as heavy as some of the women that had sat in my lap. At least this ones ass cheeks didn't droop off the sides of my thighs. I placed my hands on her bare flanks and ran my fingers up and down the bare flesh there.

"Mmmmm, that's nice." Sian murmured as her fingers toyed with my hair. "Do you want to skip the rest of the warm up and get right down to the heavy stuff, or could you stand a little more playtime?"

"I'm in no hurry. What do you have in mind?" I asked, my thumbs hooking under the hem of her cropped top and teasing it up a little to expose more of her tanned flesh.

"How about some more crunches?"

"Well, its a start." I said, leaning forward to press my lips to hers once more. Her hand shot up between us, her fingers pressing against my mouth to prevent me kissing her.

"Not like that." She smiled, then pushed me prone. I felt her climb off me, then she stood over me, her bare feet on either side of my ribs, then she lowered herself into a kneeling position, her knees pressed into my armpits. "Five second hold, okay?"

"Uh-huh." I acknowledged, and raised myself off the floor until my lips found her flat, bare belly. I held myself against her abdomen for the requisite five seconds, then lowered myself back to rest. Sian wriggled above me, repositioning her midriff more appropriately, then told me to have another go.

This time I pressed my mouth against the crotch of her shorts, feeling the heat radiating from her centre of passion into my face. Her hand found my hair again and held my head pressed firmly into her crotch for what felt a little longer than five seconds. I could feel the form of her vagina through the silky shorts that she wore, sensing that there was no underwear beneath them, and when her hand released me I let myself go prone again.

"More." She told me, and this time her left hand pulled the gusset of her shorts to the side to reveal her bare pussy. And bare it was, too. Totally hairless, denuded, shaved and waxed and as bronze as the rest of her perfect body. I gazed up at it, fascinated by the glistening flesh, wondering if it had been oiled or if it was her own arousal dappling the skin with moisture. I closed my eyes as the warmth bathed my chin and cheeks and the scent of her passion assaulted my olfactory senses.

My lips touched Sian's bald pussy, my tongue toying with the folds of her warm, wet pussy lips, her right hand gripping my hair firmly, guiding me to precisely where she wanted me. My own hands found her ass cheeks as my tongue flicked over her sexual core, my fingers sliding inside her shorts to squeeze the firm, hard flesh of her amazing butt.

She pushed me away, gasping, and as I lay prone on the mat she turned a hundred and eighty degrees around, her face almost in my crotch, but she held herself off with her hands, positioning herself on all fours above me, her pussy hovering right over my face. "Another coupla reps." She hissed, pulling the gusset of her shorts aside to expose herself once again.

I did as she asked, my tongue sliding inside her wide spread pussy, my hands grasping her thighs as I worked my tongue into the sweet tasting crevices of her crack. She pushed her ass back at me with each repetition, and in no time at all she was perched firmly on my face, my head still on the foam mat, and her hands were resting on my hips, her hot breath playing against my bulge. I was waiting for her to pull my cock out of my pants and stuff it into her mouth, but Sian didn't seem to be ready for that just yet. She was content to let me do all the work, and to be perfectly honest I didn't mind that in the least. Muff diving has always been my favourite sport. Even more than Formula One racing.

My tongue lashed at her clitoris, my hands keeping her shorts pulled aside so that I could eat her out without hindrance as she writhed on my face. "Fuck, that's good." She moaned. "Ah, yeah, don't stop!"

I redoubled my efforts, one of the fingers that had been keeping her shorts pushed aside pressing threateningly against her tight asshole, another pulling aside her vaginal folds to allow my tongue more room to forage. Then I felt her hands at my crotch, folding themselves around my balls, and she pressed her cunt down harder onto my face, virtually grinding herself into the mat with scant regard that my poor head was in the way.

"Oooh," I heard, then the sounds that she was making became little more than background noise as her ass squished down and onto my face and her firm thighs crushed my ears flat against my skull. I speared my tongue as deep as it would go into her soaking, delicious pussy, my fingers prising her gash apart so that my chin was getting a good wetting too.

I could feel her hard nipples against my chest, her face turned sideways and resting on my abdomen, fingers gripping my thighs fiercely, hooking in like the talons of a bird of prey. I lapped at her distended gash, sweeping my tongue up and down its length, then zeroed in on her clit for a few seconds before circling it once more to restart the cycle anew. All this time Sian moaned, groaned and gasped, humping her slick and slippery sex against my face, then her grip on my thighs tightened further, and I was glad that I was wearing jogging pants instead of shorts because she would have certainly drawn blood otherwise, and her thrusting at my delving tongue became wild, frantic and uncontrolled. "Oh fuck I'm coming!" She cried, and her stomach began to ripple in time with her orgasm.

If you are a guy you'll know what I mean when I say that we come in waves, where the first wave is the most intense, yielding a powerful jet of semen and then it begins to tail off rapidly until a warm glow of aftershocks leaves your cock dribbling its last stores of jizz. With Sian it was almost like that in reverse, where her climax was heralded by the gentle spasming of her stomach muscles, but then it built up rapidly in intensity until her entire abdomen was undulating and she was slamming her crotch onto my tongue at the height of her orgasm, then she abruptly collapsed on top of me, a substantial dead weight pinning me to the mat as her own gentle aftershocks reverberated through her trembling body. I swept my tongue over her virtually awash cunt and she shuddered, twitching uncontrollably, jerking away from even this tender contact, so sensitive had her clit become. I flicked my tongue over her gash again and she squirmed uncomfortably, trying to escape from my tongue, and her face pressed against my hard cock, still hidden in my jogging pants. I tensed my PC muscle, something I believe is called a Kegel exercise, and I thought she might have gotten the message, but then I understood that she was still lost in her own orgasmic afterglow so I left her unmolested and relaxed myself, even though the sit-ups and what had followed had not been in the least taxing.

She slid off me, panting breathlessly on her side before rolling over onto her back, her chest moving up and down rapidly as she gathered her wits about her. I moved up the mat to lie beside her, propping myself up on one elbow as I looked down at her, and deftly unzipped her top, smoothly pulling the zipper down until her constrained breasts forced the garment to separate and her tits, nipples still hard and proudly jutting from the firm tit flesh, to be revealed, the two halves of the top falling away to her sides.

I stroked one of those erect teats with a thumb. Sian moaned softly, her eyes still closed, and her tongue emerged from her mouth to moisten her dry lips. "Fuck, you're pretty darn good at eating pussy." She said, turning her face to mine. "How come you've still got clothes on?" She asked, frowning.

"I was kinda busy." I answered, which brought a weak smile from her thin lips. "We done with the warm up, yet?"

"Not yet, super-tongue." Sian grinned. "And I need you totally naked for the next bit." To encourage me she pushed her shorts down her thighs, maneuvered them past her knees and kicked them away. I followed her lead, quickly divesting myself of all clothing to lie naked beside her, my erection pressed against her thigh. "Get into the push-up position." she instructed me and I eagerly complied, balancing on my hands and toes, my torso about two feet off the ground as I wondered what she had in mind for me next.

Sian wriggled herself underneath me, her head between my arms, and reached down between us, taking a firm hold of my cock and rubbing it around the warm, wet opening to her cunt. For a moment I thought I understood the form the push ups were to take, but then she surprised me by releasing my cock and squirming further beneath me, her face disappearing from view.

I felt her tits rub against my cock, then something totally unexpected happened. Her hands grabbed my hips and pushed. Up. My feet left the floor, the fulcrum of my body putting more weight onto my arms, and I tensed my biceps to hold the position as my toes instinctively sought the safety of solid ground. Something warm, wet and pointed swept over the taut, bulbous head of my prick and it took me a few moments to realise that it was Sian's tongue. I swallowed. So did Sian. The difference being that I had nothing in my mouth.

Slowly she let my weight descend, her lips parting to receive the bulbous end of my rock hard cock. The heat of her mouth engulfed me, exquisitely frying every nerve ending in my throbbing glans. She lowered me further, taking in the first two of my seven inches, then she extended her arms again pushing my meat back out of her incredible mouth. I could hardly believe it but she was giving me a blowjob by bench pressing me. I had never been in such a position before. I wondered if anybody on earth other than Sian's ex-lovers had.

She lowered me again, this time taking half of my length into her mouth, and I groaned at the extreme pleasure of what she was doing to me. I just kept my hands and feet planted on the gym floor, supporting most of my weight while she guided me in and out of her lips by pushing and pulling my hips. She sucked on the in stroke, exhaled on the extraction, and my arms and legs trembled at both the weight they supported and the ecstasy of the experience. It was utterly fantastic, feeling her sucking me off in this unusual manner. The tempo increased, and I began to feel my climax approaching fast. It had been a while since anybody this gorgeous had taken an interest in me sexually and the sheer eroticism of the moment was overwhelming me.

"I'm going to come!" I warned her, but this only made her work harder, her mouth refusing to release my cock as she pumped my bulk up and down, sucking and slurping noisily as she brought me to the brink of an explosive orgasm. I closed my eyes, gritted my teeth, and cried out as my balls contracted, sending the first jet of my juice racing down the length of my cock. Somewhat assisted by gravity the initial pulse of my orgasm flooded into Sian's mouth, and I felt her oral cavern shrink around my cock as she swallowed it down, tightening the constriction further still. I gasped as a second stream of ejaculate exploded out of my cock, and heard Sian moan as she hungrily consumed it as she had the first. She held me motionless above her, the entirety of my glans trapped within her suckling lips as spurt after spurt of long stored semen reserves poured into her mouth. Then, after maybe fifteen seconds and innumerable spasms of my loins, she pushed me off her and I slumped beside her on the exercise mat, thoroughly spent.

She wriggled up the mat the lie beside me, her arms snaking around me and her face burrowing into my neck, a knee pressing hard against my slowly softening prick, and I stroked her spine with my fingers, content to lay there in her arms as we both relaxed after our oral exertions. I figured maybe five minutes of this and I might be ready to go again but Sian had other ideas, her hands finding my cock and deftly returning it to hardness. "Take me to bed." She whispered into my throat, her lips and teeth reinforcing the request as she made her mark on my neck. "Leave your clothes here, you can collect them in the morning."

"Uh-huh." Was all my brain could generate in response to the revelation that I was spending the night. Sian struggled to her feet, grabbed both my hands with hers and effortlessly hauled me upright. She looked up at me as we stood facing each other, my hardness pressing against her firm stomach, then she released one of my hands and turned away from me, leading me towards the staff only door. I followed as she led me up a flight of stairs to her apartment, where instead of dragging me to the bedroom she turned on the lights, guided me to the sofa, instructed me to sit, then disappeared into the kitchen to emerge a minute later clutching two glasses and a half empty bottle of white wine.

"How much rest does it need before the main workout?" Sian asked seductively as she filled a glass and handed it to me. She looked incredible standing naked before me, and from her unabashed manner I suspected that she was fully aware of just how gorgeous she was. I, on the other hand, felt totally uneasy sitting nude on the sofa, still uncomfortable with a physique that was nowhere near as impressive as hers.

"Well," I began as I reached for the proferred glass, "With anybody else I'd say around ten minutes, but you standing there like that means I'll probably be ready to go the moment you put your hands on it."

"You like this?" Sian asked, glancing down at her own naked body, cupping her breasts with her hands and weighing them carefully. "Some guys think its a bit too much."

I shook my head, smiling. "It's perfect." I assured her. "I didn't realise just how much of a turn-on it was until I saw you." I went on. "Lots of women go too far and become too muscular, to the point where if it weren't for the long hair and the micro-bikini you'd begin to wonder what gender they really were, but I think you've struck a perfect balance. There's nothing about you that doesn't turn me on. It might not be to every guy's taste, but that's their loss."

"I used to be a bit too cut." Sian admitted. "Back when I thought I could do this shit professionally. But when I looked closely at the women that I was competing against I couldn't really find anything remotely attractive about them at all. It didn't help that I was very short so my proportions were all out of kilter. And then there was all those guys in bars who run a mile when they realise they are hitting on a girl who has bigger arms than they do. That was quite depressing. You put all that effort in and then find you're a total turn off to the kind of guy that turns you on."

"Only to the morons." I nodded. "I've been drooling over you for weeks and its been a real battle not to get a hard-on whenever I've watched you working out."

"Ha!" Sian laughed, sinking into an armchair opposite me and sipping from her glass as she curled her legs up beneath her. "I've had guys dicks go totally soft on me when they realise what they are getting themselves into when they undress me if I've worn loose, unrevealing clothes on a date. I swear some of them thought that I was a tranny. Its nice to find somebody that isn't part of the bodybuilding scene who sees me as attractive."

"Its nice to find a gorgeous woman with an incredibly sexy body who finds my skinny ass good enough to indulge in some naked fun." I told her. "I'm not exactly what you'd call prime beef myself. So you don't date bodybuilders?"

"I have done, but not any more. Crashed and burned every time." Sian shrugged. "They were never really my type, but they were the ones that expressed the most interest in me. Eventually I figured out that that kind of guy only has enough love for himself and nobody else. I swore to myself they could all go fuck themselves - which, believe me, they would if they could - and decided to abstain from men altogether. "

"What changed your mind?"

"A year of battery powered orgasms." Sian laughed, then she went silent for a moment before continuing. "I'm getting on a bit. Thirty is approaching fast. Settling down is starting to look increasingly attractive. Children, even. The biological clock is ticking, I think the saying goes. Being a short, well built woman is not exactly conducive to achieving those goals. I get hit on by more women than guys, you know." She revealed, rolling her eyes. I felt my cock stir at the mental imagery that statement elicited. I'd have paid good money to see some of that action.

"The only guy that ever told me that he loved me was my dad." Sian confessed. "I miss being loved and I want to know what being in a purely romantic relationship with somebody who adores me is like."

"So you lowered your standards?" I said, half joking and half hoping she'd deny this.

"Not so much lowering standards as widening the window." She told me. "Keeping an open mind. When Pearl told me that you'd been working out here primarily to have a crack at getting into my pants I figured it was time to get myself back in the game. I'd been watching you anyway, this good looking geeky guy in a gym full of ape-like he-men and I began to wonder what it might be like to get between the sheets with you. I've even fantasised about you once or twice." She admitted.

"Not as much as I've fantasised about you." I assure her. "I've flushed enough Kleenex away after erotic fantasies inspired by you that I've had concerns over causing tsunamis in the Philippines."

Again Sian laughed that deep, sexy laugh and I took another sip of the overly sweet white wine. "I think I was impressed by the effort that you were putting in, and when Pearl told me that it was all for me, and that Martin reckoned you were one of life's few remaining nice guys and that helping us get together might be worth the effort that he was putting in I figured I'd take a chance and see where it went. At the very least I could get a little fun out of the deal. A movie, dinner, dancing and perhaps a good, hard boning, for starters."

"And the most?"

"The sky is the limit." Sian shrugged. "Wedding bells and rug rats, but that's a long ways down the line." She assured me, probably thinking that she might be scaring me off with all this talk of settling down when nothing could have been further from the truth. If somebody this attractive was willing to marry me and bear my children, spending the rest of her life with me then that was all my dreams come true. I wasn't a predatory guy. Notches on the bed post wasn't my thing. I was looking for more or less what Sian was in search of, though she was perhaps a little bit ahead of me in that regard. Kids and honeymoons weren't on my radar, but a long term relationship that could lead to that, with a woman like Sian sitting on my face a coupla times a week while we practiced making babies? Fuck, where do I sign?

"Hurry up and finish your wine." I told her. "I think the first thing we should do before exchanging wedding vows is to make sure we're compatible between the sheets."

"Now that train of thought," Sian grinned, "Is why I want to date smart guys instead of neanderthals."

"I have an IQ of 130." I smiled. "Our kids are going to be smart and beautiful." I grinned, stealing a line from one of my favourite TV shows, The Big Bang Theory.

Sian laughed out loud. "The more you talk, the wetter I get." She drained her wine glass and stood up, beckoning me to follow her. I emptied my glass and trailed her into the darkness of the bedroom, falling on top of her as she collapsed backwards onto her bed, my prick already fully erect and pressing at her warm, damp opening as our mouths sought out and found each other. A slight twitch of my hips and I would have been inside her, she was that wet down there.

Our tongues tangled, twisted together, tasting teeth and gums, fencing, foraging, forcing their way into each others mouths. Sian's fingers clutched at my ass, digging in, seemingly in an attempt to manoeuvre my man bits into a position where penetration was unavoidable. She writhed beneath me, moving her hips instinctively to place my penis at the warm, wet entrance to her slick pussy. I leaned into her, pushing forward with my loins, and suddenly I was inside her, the heat of her passion engulfing the hardness of my own arousal in a fiery liquid sheath.

Sian arched her back beneath me, gasping as our mouths separated, and her legs opened to accommodate me, to take my entire length into her core. I responded by withdrawing completely, my cock vacating her cunt and consequently eliciting a whimper of disappointment from Sian's lips. I placed my lips at her neck, opened wide, and bit down upon the sensitive skin, bringing forth a tortured moan as I sucked and nipped at her flesh.

Slowly I moved down her body, my tongue leaving a moist trail down past her throat as I went lower. Sian's hands were on my back by this time, but a few moments later they were locked in my hair and pushing my face into her breasts. I opened wide and took a nipple into my mouth, my tongue teasing at the tip of the erect bud as I sucked on the whole of her aerola. Another moan escaped Sian's lips as I feasted on her heaving tit flesh, her fingernails digging into my scalp as she encouraged me to continue.

I shifted position above her and cupped her crotch with my left hand while sucking on her tit, feeling her heat warming my fingers. It was no trouble at all to slide two fingers inside Sian's pussy, the lips of her labia parting almost as if by magic the moment my hand pressed against them. I alternated my oral attentions to her other breast, my hand moving in that time honoured rhythm, encountering no resistance at all, such was Sian's arousal.

She groaned deliciously beneath me, both hands still trapped in my hair, legs scissoring up and down in what seemed to be a totally uncoordinated, almost uncontrolled manner as my fingers disappeared to their second joints into her centre. Her body may have been hard and firm, but inside she was soft and accomodating to a degree that totally contradicted her exterior. I felt like I was digging my fingers into nothing more resistant than a black forest gateau and that wacky notion made me want to go further down and taste her all the more.

My teeth clamped down on a nipple, eliciting a cry of what might have been pain or delight but was in all likelihood a delicious mixture of these contrasting sensations. I tugged on the tortured teat with my teeth, Sian's sharp intake of breath arching her back backwards and into the bed in response and the tender bud was wrenched from my mouth. I flicked my tongue soothingly over the hard, throbbing nub and she relaxed again, but with no word of complaint I felt encouraged to keep on pushing the envelope of this woman's considerable passions.

I moved down her squirming body, my tongue leaving a glistening coating of saliva from her nipples, around the underside of her breasts, then I traced the precise definition of her abdomen with the tip of my tongue. My hand continued to work slowly, almost lazily between her widely spread thighs, my mouth moving ever closer to the honey pit stretched around two of my fingers. I felt her tremble as my lips kissed the flesh around her navel, my tongue flicking into that hole and deftly swirling around it as if in practice for the deeper, finger filled hole just a few inches further down her body. Her hands found my head again, fingers mussing my hair, and I could feel a definite downward pressure in her touch. I love a woman that knows exactly what she wants.

My fingers slid out and my tongue slid in, the damp heat and the musky aroma of her sex swamping my senses. I ate into her with the enthusiasm of a bon vivante presented with a gourmet banquet, unable to stifle my own moans at the deliciousness of her taste. Eating pussy is one of my most lusted after desires, an activity that most treat as foreplay, but for me its more of an all throughout the lovemaking experience. My personal motto is eat, fuck, then eat some more. I treat cunnilingus as starters, main course and dessert, using my cock in the periods between the courses. Making a woman come once isn't enough - I need her to come on my face and then come around my cock before I feel I've done enough to deserve my own climax.

I pushed my tongue deeper into her cunt, my hands pressing down on the lower half of her flat belly and pushing upwards and outwards to open her gash, to spread her pussy further and give me more room in which to work my oral magic. Sian's fingers tightened in my hair, her hips coming up off the bed in encouragement.

"God I want your cock in me." She hissed. "Tell me its hard already,"

"Getting there, just a minute more," I lied. My cock was already hard fit to burst. Eating pussy has that effect on me. You can pair me up with a woman who fell out of the ugly tree and hit her face on every branch on the way down and I'd still be hard as rock after eating her out. If the lights are off, of course. I was way beyond that with Sian. If any more blood got pumped into the old boy it would have surely split down the seams and painted the room like a gory scene from a slasher movie.

I swirled my tongue around her clit, making her cry out loud with pleasure, then making her come close to screaming as I flicked the little bundle of hyper sensitive nerves rapidly with the tip of my tongue. My hands moved up to squeeze her breasts, my face forced more firmly against her fanny. I pinched her nipples between my fingers, pulled on them, and Sian made all manner of noises as I concentrated on pleasuring the three little nubs of flesh.

"God don't stop!" She cried, writhing beneath me so much that I was struggling to keep my face in sync with the gyrations of her crotch. I pulled harder on her nipples, stretching her tits as far as they would go without inducing pain and lapped hungrily at her sopping pussy, her juices flowing so copiously that not only was my face slick with her wetness, the sheets beneath my chin were virtually sodden. Then, suddenly, she went into spasm and came noisily into my mouth, her cuntal muscles rippling and a noticeable surge of discharged creams spilled into my mouth.

As her orgasm was still reverberating through her twitching body I moved myself above her and in one smooth movement rammed my cock right to the balls inside her dripping gash.

"Fuuuuuuuuck!" She shouted involuntarily, obviously taken by surprise, but I covered her mouth with mine and began to make slow love to her.

She damn near sucked my face off in the opening minute of our copulation, her tongue almost as deep inside my mouth as my prick was buried in her velvety gash. I held myself inside her, fully embedded in her cunt, grinding my groin against hers in a circular motion. At first I fucked her at a deliciously slow pace, savouring the sensations of her pussy walls clutching at each inch of my hard dick. When her orgasm had finally ended and her out of control writhing beneath me became motions more in synchronisation with my own, I then started to pick up the pace.

I grasped a tight hold of the insides of her thighs and pushed them up and away from me, giving my cock access to the deepest recesses of her pussy, a tight, semi-liquid channel that seemed to ripple and undulate around my thrusting penis. I pushed her legs so far back that her knees were crushing her nipples into her chest, my hands guiding her feet to my mouth.

I sucked on a toe, making her groan and shudder beneath me, then I ran the tip of my tongue between her toes, swirling it around them as I stabbed my prick deeper and harder into her incredible body.

"Mmm yeah, fuck me honey." She implored, the pace of our lovemaking having slowed while I feasted on her feet. I increased the pace again, releasing her legs so that they fell back into a more relaxed posture, and I leaned forward, placing my palms on her tits. I rammed my cock into her as I squeezed her breasts and pinched at her nipples, getting nothing more than a "Fuck, yeah." for my troubles.

I fucked her in this way for a minute or so, letting her take my entire body weight through her tits as I sawed my cock in and out of her body, roughly manhandling the squashed breasts as my hips slammed against the insides of her widely spread thighs. Her eyes burned into mine, her lower lip trapped between her teeth and her face flushed, her hands raking down my back to clutch at my ass cheeks, fingernails digging sharply into the soft flesh there on the outstroke to encourage me to ram it back into her accommodating depths as quickly as I could.

"Turn me over." She hissed.

"Why? Is this side done already?" I asked, grinning down at her as I felt sweat run down my face and bead at my nose. Before she could answer I slipped my cock out of her and leaned back, helping her roll over onto her belly. When she was lying beneath me with her face buried in the pillow I grabbed a hold of her hips and pulled her ass up until she was on her knees. I glanced down at the sweat soaked glistening gash before me, at the hidden darkness of the other orifice winking up and me, and couldn't help myself. I shuffled back on the bed, bent at the waist, and pressed my tongue against her blood engorged, recently fucked cuntal folds.

Sian gasped, shuddering at the feel of my tongue circling her pussy hole. My fingers descended upon her ass cheeks, grasping them tightly, prising her butt cheeks apart to ease my access to her entrance. I dipped my tongue inside her, eliciting a groan as it pressed against her clit, my nose tightly nestled between her ass cheeks and alarmingly close to the last place a sane person would place his nostrils. Sensing nothing untoward there, I did something that I had never done before and experimentally swept the tip of my tongue over that secondary opening.

I'd engaged in ass play before, but never with my tongue. Previously I'd forced a finger up a woman's butt while eating her out. Some loved it, some tried to squirm away. Horses for courses, I suppose. I've used a vibrator on one woman, burying it in her ass while I tongue fucked her, then later I again rammed it in and out of her anus while fucking her pussy with my cock. The feel of the hard, buzzing plastic pressed against my throbbing prick through the thin membrane of flesh between them had been a memorable experience, one that ended with a premature ejaculation, so intense had that sensation been. I'd even fucked a woman up the ass bareback once, and paid the price for that with a water infection that cost two days off work as a consequence. A bonus, some might say but I decided that was an experience never to be repeated. But putting my tongue in there? The thought had never even occurred to me before Sian.

Her ass seemed perfectly suited to it, the shape of the depression almost perfectly matching the taper of my tongue and the ease of access to it because of her tight ass making it seem almost natural that it end up there. With flabbier birds it would have taken a fair bit of effort to get in that deep, but with Sian it was right there, front and centre, ready for action and not the least bit off-putting. It was like they had been made for each other. So, naturally (or unnaturally depending on one's taste) I pressed my tongue against the orifice and gently fondled her pussy lips with my fingers, the exact opposite of what I usually did while going down on a woman.

Amazingly Sian seemed to enjoy it, thrusting herself back at me and groaning with delight. I circled her ass with my tongue, feeling an unusual tingle as it explored the rim of her anal cavern, and eased two fingers inside her gushing cunt hole.

"Oh my fucking God!" Sian whimpered as my fingers delved deep into her gash and my tongue prepared for a mirror image assault on her ass. "Do it, you dirty bastard!" She urged, bucking her hips back at my face, my fingers disappearing to the knuckles in her slit and my tongue burying itself in her asshole.

"Mmmmmmmm," she moaned as I flicked my tongue around her dark, puckered ring and slid my fingers in and out of her soaking wet pussy. I pressed my tongue firmly against her asshole and wagged it left and right. I felt her ass crack widen, opening my eyes to find that her own hands were gripping her butt cheeks and prising them apart for me to have more room to work in. Her cunt hole and anus expanded slightly, stretched by her tugging, and the tip of my tongue found itself inside her, the taste not nearly as unpleasant as I had feared.

But it sure wasn't the taste of pussy cream. I treated her to the ass tongueing that she wanted for a few moments, then shifted my position and slid my tongue into her distended pussy alongside my fingers. If she was disappointed she kept it to well hidden. I sucked and slurped on her clitoris, my fingers having moved to her pussy lips to spread them even wider for my tongue. Sian's moans by this time were somewhat muffled by her face being buried in a pillow. I licked, lapped and speared my tongue deep into her body, driving a thumb hard into her soaking anus that turned her muffled moans into a stifled shriek.

I thrust my thumb all the way in, hooking it down so that I could feel the pad of the digit pressing against my tongue through the fleshy membrane that separated front from back. I licked at my thumb through Sian's cunt wall for a few moments then decided that it was high time I saw to my own needs next as my cock was so hard it felt more like a bar of steel than flesh and blood.

I positioned myself behind her, the thumb of my right hand still fucking in and out of her ass, and guided my cock to her quim entrance, using the radiated heat to home unerringly in on the centre of the target like some infrared guided missile.

The warhead penetrated her defenses and the target more or less exploded. She threw back her head, uttered a "Fuuuck, yesssss!" and I eased my cock past the pressure of my own thumb, inch by delicious inch, until I was holding myself inside her at maximum penetration and she was gurgling incoherently at the invasion of both her holes. Her back was still arched, her head thrown back as she gasped at the bedroom wall, so I took a handful of her blonde hair in my left hand and started to fuck her slowly.

"Aaaah yeah!" Sian cried as I began to pull on her hair harder, and already I could feel her fucking back at me. I closed my fist tighter in her hair, feeling it pulling against her scalp. Slow fucking wasn't doing it for me. The feel of her tight but soft and slippery cunt enveloping my cock was driving me crazy, destroying what little self control I possessed. I wanted to slam it in her hard and fast, to hear the bed creak and groan beneath us, to feel her ass cheeks slapping against my hips and the headboard banging against the wall to leave permanent reminders if our lovemaking scarring the pale yellow finish.

So I let go of her hair, eased my thumb out of her ass, placed both my palms on her flanks, squeezed tight with my fingers, and proceeded to fuck the shit out of the hot little bitch, pulling her back onto my impaling cock at each powerful thrust of my loins. The noise was incredible. On top of the metallic remonstrations of the bed, the dull thudding complaints from the headboard and the wet, lewd clapping of our sweating flesh slamming together, there was also Sian's "Ahh"'s and my grunts of effort with each stroke adding to the cacophany of copulation reverberating about the room, not to mention out into the street, I suspected.

I was loving every second of this fuck, my cock hard as steel in her velvetty box, disappearing entirely inside her as my hairy crotch ground against her denuded pubis, but I couldn't keep it up for long. It was clear that I'd spent too much time on muscle building and not enough on stamina. After a while I began to slow down. I could even hear myself begin to pant like an exhausted dog, and Sian glanced back over her shoulder at me as I slid my cock in and out of her.

"Let me go on top." She said. As if I could have stopped her. The trouble was, her cunt felt so fucking awesome wrapped around my cock that, as much as the idea of Sian riding me hard appealed to me, I could not bring myself to pull the old boy out of her.

"It feels too nice like this." I told her as I reached around her body, both hands squeezing a hanging breast each, tweaking the nipples roughly as I screwed her.

"Mmmmm" Sian murmured, perhaps not in agreement, it was difficult to tell. I felt a hand on my balls, Sian pulling at my nut sac in exactly the way that I was abusing her tits, massaging my scrotum firmly on each in stroke and tugging on the loose flesh on the out stroke as if that was not permitted. Then she said; "Fuck me hard or let me suck your cock."

Well I wasn't going to turn that offer down. I pulled myself out of her tight pussy with a mixture if reluctance and anticipation and collapsed onto my back beside her. She didn't waste any time, just crabbed sideways to straddle me, hoisted my cock up from my belly where it rested, and sat on it in one smooth motion, her soaking pussy sucking it into her delightful depths.

"You lying little bitch!" I told her, unable to suppress a laugh at how easily I had been had, then she put both her hands on my chest and had me some more.

There was no love in the way she rode me, no tenderness, no savouring of shared intimacy, she just rode me like a wild rutting animal, her cunt burning my cock with the friction as she bounced her body up and down on mine. The bed began making even more alarming noises than when it had been slamming against the wall, this time it felt as if it was going to snap in two as Sian rammed herself violently down onto my prick, taking it all inside her at least twice per second, fucking me to the edge of my sanity. Her eyes were closed as she fucked me, her blonde hair whipping about her face, her tits bouncing wildly, her mouth open in an endless, muted groan as she concentrated on the intensity of the fucking that she was taking from me.

I reached up, grabbed her breasts and crushed them hard with my fingers. "Fuck!" Sian cried, throwing back her head. "Fuck!" She yelled again, her pace not letting up in the slightest. "Fuuuck!" She damn near shrieked, then while my own climax began to build, hers arrived like a runaway freight train, thundering through the bedroom in a crescendo of tortured wood, steel, springs and sweat soaked screaming flesh.

Sian's cunt pulsed around my cock, an eye popping rippling motion of elasticated pussy walls attempting to milk the cum out of my aching dick. Another pulse issued a brief warm wetness, a spraying of cunt cream that I could feel squirt from the union of our bodies and soak into my pubic region. "Shiiiiiit!" She hissed, her cunt still spasming but her riding of me having by this time ceased, holding my cock inside her at maximum penetration, her body wanting my cum jetting straight into her cervix even though her mind didn't consciously know what it was doing. It was just human nature in action. The more cum you soak up, the better the chance of it working, if you see what I mean.

But I wasn't ready. Somehow I had managed to hold back my ejaculation while her spasming vagina had tried to suck it out of me, had succeeded in riding out the storm of her hard, fast fucking of my shattered body until I was ready to take charge again, my few minutes of near motionlessness underneath Sian's onslaught having temporarily recharged my batteries. Still holding onto Sian's tits I pulled her down onto me, then, when I could reach, I knotted my hands in her hair and pulled her face to mine.

I slid my tongue into her mouth, getting no response for a few moments as she came to her senses, then when her tongue began to fight against mine I started to fuck up into her cunt as she sat on me. Sian positioned herself so that she was straddling me still, but this time her pussy wasn't pressed hard against my belly, and was now a good three or four inches above me, allowing me room to work at my own pace beneath her.

She bit my lip as we sucked face, my cock pistoning in and out of her at roughly the pace she had been fucking me, and I pulled at her hair firmly, breaking the kiss and arching my back to suck and bite on her tits. I lasted less than a minute, then it was my turn to shout out my pleasure as I unloaded my balls into her squirming body, pulse after pulse of my spunk shooting up and into her, then squirting out from the joining of our genitalia to soak into the forest of pubic hairs at my groin.

Sian settled on top of me, taking my full length inside her as she kissed me repeatedly, her lips leaving their wet mark on what felt like every exposed inch of my cheeks, chin, forehead and neck, the mixed slime of our manic fucking running down the insides of my legs and soaking into the bedsheets. After a while she rolled off me, lying panting by my side, her flesh dappled with sweat, her face aglow and her breasts tinged pink with post orgasmic flush.

"Are all warm-ups supposed to be like that?" I asked.

"Yes," Sian replied. "And its vital that you perform a comprehensive warm-up every time you visit the gym."

"Why's that?" I wondered.

"Because," Sian smiled as she turned to me and kissed me. "If you neglect to, then I will kill you."

---