Work Me Out

Work Me Out

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

A married woman is given the workout of her life by her personal trainer one hot and sweaty night. EXCERPT: He squats down with an elastic band in his hand, then straps an end around each ankle. I look down at him as he does so and an image of all the wonderful things he could be doing down there flashes through my mind. He interrupts my thoughts once more by instructing me to move my foot out to the side more. I do so, but apparently it wasn’t enough. “Like this,” he says, trailing his hand down my smooth legs from my knee to my foot, shoving it over. I grow moist at his touch. Unaware of the affect he’s having on me, he stands up, faces me and begins to squat and move side to side towards the other end of the room.

Summary

A married woman is given the workout of her life by her personal trainer one hot and sweaty night.

EXCERPT:

He squats down with an elastic band in his hand, then straps an end around each ankle. I look down at him as he does so and an image of all the wonderful things he could be doing down there flashes through my mind. He interrupts my thoughts once more by instructing me to move my foot out to the side more. I do so, but apparently it wasn’t enough.

“Like this,” he says, trailing his hand down my smooth legs from my knee to my foot, shoving it over. I grow moist at his touch.

Unaware of the affect he’s having on me, he stands up, faces me and begins to squat and move side to side towards the other end of the room.

Content

Submitted: July 19, 2013

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: July 19, 2013

A A A

A A A


“You’re here late,” a voice booms out. I look up, take out my blasting earbuds and smile as I set down the ten-pound dumbbells in each hand then extend one to shake his. I thought I had the gym to myself, but was wondering where someone was to monitor the place. I got a little excited to see that it was him.

“Yea, I couldn’t sleep and needed to blow off some steam.” Dominic smiles softly at me, and yet it’s still enough to light the gym. He’s wearing a tight black Under Armor top that shows off his perfectly structured body divinely. His firm pecs and six-pack of abs just barely showing through is making me hotter than my last set of squats and the way his naturally russet arms bulge out of the sleeveless top is mouth-watering. 

I glance back to the wall of mirrors in front of me to check my composure and keep from drooling. My dirty blonde hair is almost still in a bun, piled loosely on top of my head. Luckily I’m wearing my favorite sports bra that doesn’t compress too much and shows just the right amount of my full C set – which are now beautifully gleaming with sweat. My eyes trail over my exposed stomach, down to my inner thighs. Quickly I put a finger under each bottom of my spandex shorts, and pull down to adjust it back in place so it caresses just beneath my apple-bottom cheeks. 

Damn I look good. And so does he. Very good -- as always. I fidget with my wedding ring and sigh.

Before they even begin, he interrupts my thoughts. “I’m surprised you’re here. I didn’t work you out hard enough earlier?” I look back at him and avoid staring at any part except his eyes, though I can’t help but notice a broad smile playing at his moist lips.

 I wish, I think to myself perversely. “Oh no, you did. Trust me, my butt will be killing me tomorrow after all the lunges you had me do.” Face palm! Why did I just say that?? I could have said legs! I grimace then bend over to pick up my weights.

“Mmmhmm.,” I hear him purr. It takes me a little longer than appropriate to retrieve my weights and secretly I hope he’s staring at my butt that I’ve been working so hard for.

When I come back up, he’s looking at me sternly. “Well then, if you’re here now, you must not be too exhausted from earlier. Care for another session? This one’s on me.” Dominic is my personal trainer and I’ve been a client of his now for a little over two weeks. I was always in the gym and saw him often, but didn’t pair up with him until recently. I think my husband is surprised it took so long for me to express interest in getting a personal trainer, and although he is more than happy to get me one, I’m sure he wished it were someone other than this demigod before me.

“Sure!” I respond in my usual bubbly voice. Jeez, don’t sound too eager, I think, rolling my eyes. 

I follow him to the back where the dance studio is and, because it’s almost 2 in the morning, he flips the switch, turning on the half of the room’s lights above. 

“Did you stretch?” He asks, grabbing mats for each of us from the back wall of the studio. 

“No,” I reply, meekly. 

“You know better,” he admonishes me. And it’s so sexy. “Lie down on your stomach and loosen up your inner thighs,” he instructs. Ooh, even sexier.

He hands me a foam roller and I proceed to rub out my stiff muscles, rolling side to side with one leg at a ninety degree angle on top of the stiff cylinder and the other extended straight. 

“Slower.” I see him standing over me, watching. I slow my pace and continue to grind the roller from my knee to my groin then back. “That’s good,” he purrs. Because of the weird positioning, my butt is somewhat hoisted in the air at a very suggestive pose. 

My mind is in a dirty mood tonight, that’s for sure. Let’s get this done with soon so I can get home to my toys… I awkwardly change legs. 

After I finish my stretching, Dominic extends his hand out to help me up. I take him up on his offer and feel his large, soft hand in mine. I pull myself up, and instead of moving back, he grounds his feet so I end up just half a foot from him. He smells delicious – a mixture of salt and Giorgio Armani. I blush and step back.

“Alright, let’s get started. Move your feet apart, please.” I do as I’m told and watch him. He has thick, black hair, a hard jawline kept free of stubble and kind, dark brown eyes. He is muscular, but not overly so, and is thin, but in a built sort of way. He sort of looks like my fantasy man - Mario Lopez. Yum. 

He squats down with an elastic band in his hand, then straps an end around each ankle. I look down at him as he does so and an image of all the wonderful things he could be doing down there flashes through my mind. He interrupts my thoughts once more by instructing me to move my foot out to the side more. I do so, but apparently it wasn’t enough.

“Like this,” he says, trailing his hand down my smooth legs from my knee to my foot, shoving it over. I grow moist at his touch.

Unaware of the affect he’s having on me, he stands up, faces me and begins to squat and move side to side towards the other end of the room. 

“I want you to do these with me, from here to there, then back again.” We begin our workout, and because I know these won’t get too difficult until the second set, I take this as a good opportunity to talk. 

He beats me to the first question. “So what’s bothering you?” 

“Oh you know, the usual.” I exhale as I squat deeper then shuffle my feet over, mirroring his movement. “Life.”

“And by that you mean married life?” He smiles and moves with me in rhythm.

I laugh. Do I really talk about my issues so much that he already knows the source of my problems? “Yes, married life.” I reply then squat.

As we near the opposite end of the dance studio, it gradually grows dim and I remember that Dominic had only turned on the first half of the lights. We soon reach the end and I turn around to face the wall of mirrors behind me. Dominic does not turn around and now has a front row seat to my rendition of the Nutcracker  - better known as the Buttcracker.

I smile to myself and sit lower into my squats, intentionally sticking my rear out farther than the first set. 

“Stop,” he suddenly commands. “Hold that position.” In the mirror I see him stand straight up from his stance and begin walking around me. I hold my squat and exhale slowly. A hair falls in front of my face.

After awhile, he comes around to face me and begins to talk again, leaning against the mirror with his thick arms folded across his hard chest. “Marriage is not easy. So many people don’t have the driving force to keep a marriage together. But you, you’re motivated. At least here in the gym, you are. I see you almost every day. Sometimes twice a day. That’s fantastic. If you’re anything in the relationship like you are in the gym, you guys will be fine.” He smiles his gorgeous row of white teeth at me and I nearly melt.

By this time my legs are trembling, but I smile back weakly and nod, trying to maintain my breathing. My quads feel like jelly. I hope he starts talking again; the conversation keeps my mind off my rapidly deteriorating condition.

Almost on cue, he does: “But you know, like with anything in life, sometimes you just need a break from the stress and the maintenance and the hard work and you have to do something for you. You have to let loose a little before you explode. You know what I mean?” He stares hard into my eyes, then uses his back to push himself off the wall. He steps forward, tucks the stray hair behind my ear, then motions for me to stand up straight. 

Relieved, I hastily do, exhaling with gale-force wind. Involuntarily, I collapse onto the hardwood floor. Dominic laughs and says we should stretch again if we’re going to be sitting on the ground anyway.

I spread my legs into a v and half-heartedly reach for the toes at the end of my quivering legs. He knew I was sore from our workout this morning, why is he trying to kill me?!

After I catch my breath, I expel one last gust of air then proclaim, “I think this morning and the time finally caught up to me. I know we haven’t done much, but can we break? My legs are dying over here!” I hate to sound like a baby – I’m never one to complain, but I’m really in need of some Bengay or something! Without waiting for his approval, I lay flat on my back and stare up at the dark ceiling.

“Lay on your stomach and I’ll massage your legs for you with the roller.” Dominic offers. I look over to him, see his dreamy Latino body and can’t refuse.

When he gets back with the roller, I flip over, put my legs together and don’t even bother to pull my shorts down - which are now clearly riding up with each cheek just slightly peeking out of the bottom of my shorts. Yes, I’m that exhausted.

He straddles my legs (oh how I wish I were on my back!) and presses the foam into my calves. He leisurely rolls it up towards my rear then almost teasingly drags it back down to my calves before reaching the end.

A slight moan escapes my lips.

Recant! Recant!!

Even though he is hovering above me, I feel him shift his weight.

“Like I was saying before, sometimes a little time to discharge is good for you. It can be very liberating, even if only for an hour. And at least then, you won’t be bursting at the seams.”  I’m not sure if it’s just hopeful wishing or a lack of oxygen to the brain after holding that squat for so long, but I swear he said that last bit with a thick coat of seduction. 

I feel the foam roller be lifted from my body and set somewhere off to the side and I whimper a little in my head. Over already? Tear..

Then, surprisingly, I feel warm hands – his! - warm hands trail gently up my calves, over the back ligaments of my knee, and to my thighs where his thumbs stop to knead into me. 

I freeze as a rush of adrenaline and lust swiftly coarses through my veins.

Then realization of what’s actually at play rears it’s ugly head.

“Dominic, stop.” I scoot from under him and sit up. “What are you doing? You know I’m married.” I try to sound forceful and irate, but I’m sure he’s not fooled. 

“What do you mean? This is what your husband pays me for – to work you out, right?”





*****REPLY BELOW IF YOU WANT MORE HOT AND SWEATY FUN!!!!*****LEAVE A REVIEW, SUGGESTIONS FOR AN ENDING OR TIPS FOR BETTER WRITING*****JUST BE SURE TO CHECK BACK OR ASK TO BE UPDATED WHEN THE FINAL PART COMES OUT*****IT'S GONNA BE HOT HOT HOT!!!*****


© Copyright 2019 Vivianne Cruise. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply

Other Content by Vivianne Cruise

More Great Reading

Popular Tags