by Alexis Angel
Ninety-nine percent of the time, women are nothing more to me than hot, wet holes to fuck.
But Kara…this girl has potential.
She’s blunt, rude, stubborn, and difficult—and I fucking like that. Means she’s not afraid to fight back.
I can’t even count how many women bow down right away when I so much as speak to them. I don’t even think anything of it anymore. It’s just the fucking norm at this point.
But not her. She’s challenging me and making me challenge her right back.
Well, Kara Gilmore…challenge fucking accepted.
Let’s be real: anything I compete in, I already know I’ll win.
It’s just the most probable fucking outcome.
But the fact that she tries anyway is satisfying. I like a woman with a little fight in her. Makes it all the more satisfying when I finally do win out and bend her to my will.
What other men might see as too intimidating just gets my blood running. That level of not-so-blind confidence and stubborn pigheadedness is what earned me my empire in the first place.
I can see myself in this woman. In many, many different ways, if you catch my drift.
Chase is eyeing Kara hard, too. He’s thinking the same thoughts I am. I can see it on his face.
He’s fucking her with his eyes right this second, and I can’t even blame him. I’ve already thought about getting her on my cock a more than few times myself and we’ve only just met.
Chase and I have similar tastes—we have from the start. It’s part of why we’re such good business partners and definitely why we’ve been friends as long as we have.
If he wants to fuck her, too, I’m game. We can just dick her down twice as hard. That would suit a woman like Kara just fine, I bet.
Someone needs show this little slice the kind of men who she’s privileged to fuck.
Chase and I have plowed plenty of women together, but I have a feeling that Kara’s hot little cunt would be an experience, even for us.
That attitude. That determination to be the best. That stubborn fucking mindset.
With a little effort, we can take her, break her, and force her to submit.
She’s fought and argued with us on every machine so far today. The rowing machine, the bench press, dumbbells, squats.
If we’ve been on it, she’s challenged it. And she’s exhausted from it. She just won’t dare admit it.
I glance out the window; the sun has already set.
Fuck.
What time is it? I pull my wrist up to my chest and check my Fitbit. While my heart rate is spectacular and my steps are up to par, I notice the battery is getting low on it. I fidget with it and see the time.
It’s seven thirty already. We’ve been here for hours, teaching Kara about this equipment. We’ve been so fixated on the way she moves her svelte little body, we actually lost track of time.
As I sit flabbergasted that this girl had our attention for this long, a loud grumble comes from my stomach. I slap my rock-hard abs and look over to Chase and Kara.
Perfect segue.
“I’m starving,” I announce to them.
“Shit, man. I am, too,” Chase returns.
There’s a gleam in his eye. He turns his face to Kara and gestures at her.
“Want to join us for a post-workout meal? There’s a private chef in the kitchen upstairs—keto, vegan, whatever you’re into, he does it.”
That sly bastard. Trying to sneak her up to our office for a post-workout workout. I couldn’t be prouder to call him my best friend.
I can see Kara considering it. Mulling it over behind those pretty blue eyes.
“As generous as that is, I’m going to have to pass,” Kara says.
Dammit. Come on.
“How about a big salad from the bistro down the street?” I chime in.
Call me crazy, but I don’t want this bitch to leave just yet. I’m way too invested in her.
Too curious about her.
“You’ve burned too many calories here today—gotta refuel if you want to do this right.”
I see her bite her pillowy lower lip in consternation, twisting it beneath her teeth as she fights the idea.
“I really need to be getting back to my house,” she finally says. “I left my best friend there alone—and I promised I’d spend some time with her today—and I don’t want to be up too late with her since I have to work tomorrow…but you didn’t need to know all that. I really appreciated this little lesson here today. I learned a lot.”
Little lesson? I’d hope she took away more than just weightlifting from the entire fucking afternoon.
Kara grabs her bag and water bottle and starts to walk towards the locker room.
“Hey,” I shout. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m going to get changed and…leave?” she responds, a slight note of concern in her voice.
She’s already being defensive of her choice. That’s fucking adorable.
“You need to stretch first,” says Chase, stealing the words right out of my mouth. “Gotta cool your muscles down. It helps with the recovery process.”
“Oh,” Kara says, blushing again.
She’s fucking cute when she blushes. Bright pink at the tip of her nose and in the apples of her cheeks.
Seeing her acknowledge that we’re right, watching her following our orders—it’s fucking hot. I don’t know which I like better at this point: when she listens or when she doesn‘t.
So far, I can’t tell which way her response is going to go. It’s a fun little guessing game Chase and I get to play in our heads: will Kara obey or do we need to put her in her place?
We show her a few basic stretches to relax her muscles, but I know Chase is doing the exact same thing I am while we do it.
We’re staring at her hot little body, studying her physique as it’s pulled and pushed in whatever direction we want it to go.
Lots of people come into our gym trying to go from a four to a five, or a six to a seven.
This bitch is a ten from the fucking get-go.
“That should do it,” Chase relents to her. “You need to do that after every workout. And next time you’re here, we can show you the kinds of stretches you need to do for a warm up. You’ll be back tomorrow at, say…6:00 a.m. sharp.”
He’s only half-kidding.
“Haha. Right. We’ll see,” she laughs as she starts to walk away again.
“Kara,” I call after her. She turns around and stands, waiting for my next spiel, her head tilted to the side and her eyes rolled. She’s growing impatient.
That only makes me harder.
“Yes?” she asks in a short tone.
“If you won’t eat with us, at least have a protein shake before you go. It’s vital you nourish your body after a long workout like this. Extra protein is the best way to repair muscles,” I explain.
“I don’t really feel like buying that Muscle Milk shit here. I’ll eat at home. Promise.” She punctuates that statement with a sexy little wink. I have a resting heart rate of 35 bpm and even I can feel my heart skip a beat.
“Fuck Muscle Milk. This is better. Company brand—this one’s on us.”
I turn to the Protein Plus fridge a few feet away, grabbing a cold bottle of the improved-recipe stuff out of it.
Two Girls One Cupcake. Our taste testers fucking love this one…or at least, they do now that it has the new Protein Plus special ingredient inside. I hand it over to her and watch as she scrutinizes the label.
“Interesting name,” she remarks snarkily, unscrewing the cap. “But I do like the packaging.”
She brings the open container up to her nose and sniffs it.
My cock is rock hard in anticipation. Chase is damn near salivating, too. We both know what’s inside these things.
It’s right there on the label: MAY CONTAIN BILLIONAIRE CUM.
We know what Kara’s about to drink. Question is…does she?
She brings the bott
le to her lips and tilts it up. The thick, creamy shake enters her mouth, pouring over her tongue.
She tilts it back down and swishes the liquid around in her mouth. She raises her eyebrows as she swallows it in a big GULP.
A huge weight lifts off my shoulders as she tastes the drink. I look over at Chase and we exchange a quick smile before returning our attention to her. She lowers the bottle and licks her lips.
“That’s too fucking good,” she exclaims. “Like, there’s no way this is actually good for me…oh my god, I don’t even care if it’s not.”
She takes a second swig. And a third.
Taking all of that thick, creamy, protein-filled goodness down her slutty little throat.
“Don’t tell the rest of the world, but there’s a secret ingredient,” I admit.
“I’m sure there is. It’s probably like guarana or mung beans or some shit, right?”
“Something like that, yeah,” I confirm. I don’t want to spoil the surprise just yet. I’m getting too much enjoyment watching this chick drink my cum.
Kara isn’t the typical little cardio bunny that hops in and out of here. She went straight for the weights. She didn’t want our help at first, even seeing how attractive we are.
She’s complex, and she’s able to think for herself. And it’s not often I have to work to get a laugh out of someone. Usually, women want so badly for me to like them that they pander to me.
It’s literally no work at all getting a girl into bed with me. But Kara all day has been constant effort.
And she’s quick. I can’t say something snippy at her without her being ready to snap back at me. It’s refreshing to meet someone who can keep up with us. And so, so rare.
I watch Kara as she chugs the remainder of the shake. She fucking loved it. Every delicious drop.
And why wouldn’t she? It’s got the best of the best ingredients hidden inside.
She replaces the cap on the bottle and grabs her bag. She tosses the bottle into a nearby trashcan.
“Well, boys, it’s been fun. But I need to take a shower and head home,” she says.
She gives us a quick wave and turns to head for the locker room.
Chase and I watch her shapely ass walk away through those thin, almost sheer leggings, and we laugh as we see where she’s walking to.
Again, the blind confidence of this woman is remarkable and absolutely noteworthy. I’m ready to take this chick on.
“Should we warn her?” Chase asks.
“She’ll figure it out soon enough,” I laugh.
We stand there for a moment more, just watching her walk away. Right out of the main area of the gym…
And right into the men’s locker room.
Kara
As I shed my sticky and sweaty workout garb, a huge knot forms in the pit of my stomach. I’m not used to this. I look in the mirror some days and still see my body trying to carry another two hundred pounds.
So when I pull off clothes that have a size label in the single digits or an S, I’m sometimes surprised. I have to remind myself that the overweight me is in the past.
Once all of my clothing is removed, I take a long look into the mirror. The girl I remember, the one I still picture when I think of myself, isn’t the same girl that’s reflected back at me.
I wonder briefly how long it’ll be before I can get comfortable with the idea that this is me now.
I peek across the countertop.
…weird.
Why such a high-end gym wouldn’t have hair dryers as a courtesy is beyond me. I mean, they have a private chef. Why not a hair dryer or two?
I chalk it up to the fact that men probably designed the place. I guess I’ll have to remember to bring one next time I’m here.
After the sweat Chase and Eric had me work up, a shower here is non-negotiable.
I grab a towel and my vanilla-coconut body wash and walk off into the big, open shower area. I hang my towel and get under a faucet. After I fiddle with the knobs for a moment, I find a comfortable temperature and take a deep breath, relaxing under the falling water.
As I bring my arms up to rinse out my hair, I realize my muscles are already so fucking sore, I can barely move them. It’s incredible how much work we put in today. As I lather up, my arms ache and sting.
Ugh. No pain, no gain, right?
Chase and Eric must have gone through a lot of pain, because, holy shit, their bodies are really perfect. They have so much muscle definition that they make other men look low resolution by comparison. They have muscles in places I couldn’t have imagined was possible.
They know it too. They’re so fucking cocky. That’s what really gets me.
They know what they can get away with saying based on how fit they are. They know what people will give them just because of their looks. It’s so perpetuated—especially when it comes to women, I bet.
They’re probably surprised that I didn’t fall to my feet, begging for the privilege of blowing them the second they so much as looked at me.
I don’t even know how the two of them have me so locked on the idea of them, but they do. I love how confident they are. Men that are so certain, especially when they’re actually right all the time, are insanely sexy to me.
And they’re knowledgeable, too. They know all kinds of shit about physical activity and nutrition. Muscle groups and metabolism and physical form—the whole nine yards.
I really feel like I could learn more from them—if they don’t piss me off or wise up to the fact that I’m not going to fall over myself for the chance to blow them first.
I can’t quite put my finger on which of them I enjoy more so far. Eric is on my level of wit and comebacks. But Chase is so empathetic and patient while still being so firm. They could both put me in my place—if I let them—and that alone is fucking rare to find.
Normally, I intimidate men too much to develop real, genuine attraction to one. Now, it feels like I’ve fallen directly into the arms of two mega-hotties. Both of whom are—surprise, surprise—exactly my type.
Maybe I need a few more workouts with them to really figure it out.
As I let the water pour over my body, I start to imagine what our future sessions might look like. My hand creeps down my body and I slide my clit between my fingers.
Dirty. Our future sessions should be fucking dirty—so filthy that we’ll need to shower off afterwards just to feel clean again.
I picture Chase behind me, holding my hips to keep my form as I’m pulling weights. Running his hands down my legs slowly. Cupping my ass.
Rubbing his thick hard cock against my thin leggings. Ripping them at the fucking seam and plunging his cock into me as I turn the gym equipment to something to hold onto.
I pull my hand up and down against my pussy, tickling my clit between my fingers, the tingling pleasure growing more intense with each pass.
I picture Eric, moving in front of me as I’m doing squats. Standing there, all authoritative and unmoving. Watching me watch him while I show him what I’ve learned.
My eyes wander down the sexy, toned V-shape on his pelvis in my fantasy. I realize that his cock is out, ready to be sucked.
I’d slide his cock deep into my mouth and feel as his hand grips into my skin as I swallow it down into my throat.
I mean, the throat’s a muscle too, right? It deserves a workout of its very own.
Pumping iron never felt so good.
I move my fingers over my clit and start rubbing in a circle and hump against them as I fantasize about the men I’ve just met today.
I’m back to Chase, spotting me on a leg press. Climbing through the equipment, planting his face between my legs, teasing me with his teeth through the fabric of my gym clothes. Grabbing at my thighs and ass before pulling my pants down and kissing my pussy.
I continue the workout, raising up and lowering my pussy onto his tongue, letting him eat me out as we display proper form right there on the equipment.
Closer. I’
m getting closer.
I imagine Eric working me out on a pull-up bar. I go from pulling up to swinging on it, wrapping my legs around his hips and his cock thrusting into me.
I rub my clit hard and cup my breast in my free hand, pulling at my nipples and imagining Chase’s—no, Eric’s—teeth.
I imagine both of them.
Together.
Taking my pussy and my ass at the same time.
The very thought of the two of their cocks dominating me sends me into an intense orgasm. I squeal out their names. “Chase! Eric! Chase! Eric! Aaahhhhh! Don’t stop! DON’T STOP!”
My entire body tenses and shakes as jolts of pleasure escape my sore, aching muscle. I moan loud and toss my head back, letting the hot water hit my neck and flow down my spasming body.
Just as I open my eyes and my fuzzy vision becomes clear again, my heart skips a beat as I feel a hand against my waist.
Oh, fuck. It’s that kind of gym.
I panic for a moment, unsure of how to explain to the ultra-buff lesbian who must be positioned behind me right now that I don’t exactly swing that way.
Man, she has thick fingers, though.
I whip myself around and to my relief, the steam parts to reveal…
Not a big, burly lesbian waiting for me to drop the soap.
But Eric and Chase, shirtless and basking in the hot steamy air.
They’re looming directly in front of my naked, wet body. I’m a former model, so I’m not exactly short—but they’re fucking tall. Intimidatingly so.
I panic and throw my arm up over my tits. I cover my pussy with the palm of my other hand. I curl up into myself a bit and can feel myself start to back away, even though I want nothing more than to launch myself into them and let them fight over who gets to fuck my slutty little cunt first.
As if they’re reading my mind, each of them reaches out a hand to capture my wrists. They pull my arms away from my body with a masculine forcefulness.
It’s an act that says, No. We’re going to look at you, and you’re going to like it.
If I wasn’t wet before, I sure as fuck am now.
I look them both up and down and see their throbbing cocks standing at attention.
Oh…well, fuck.
I strain my wrists against them, even though I’m not really sure what I’ll do if I’m able to wrench them free.
