by Cassie Cole
Max kissed my neck. I sighed as his lips moved along my collarbone, then down to my breast. I sat up so he could peel my shirt over my head, and his fingers slipped around to my back and deftly unclasped my bra. The air was cool on my bare breasts, but only until Max nuzzled his face into them, kissing and licking his way around my nipple. I gasped as lightning bolts of pleasure shot from his tongue, spreading through my torso as he sucked and swirled his tongue around my right nipple, then my left. All the while he kept his crotch planted in my own, grinding up and down in a way that promised more.
His kisses ventured lower. Fingers moved along my waist and unbuttoned my jeans, and then they were sliding down over my legs along with my panties. Bare and vulnerable, I spread my legs for my sexy spin instructor.
Max took a moment to gaze at my pussy, taking it in. I had shaved a week ago, but was it enough for him? Was he expecting something else? A million questions ran through my head in that vulnerable moment, the way they always did with a new lover—
Max dove his face into my pussy, kissing my lips tenderly. “You taste amazing,” he moaned into me, vibrating through my pelvis and into my clit.
I groaned, and all self-doubt disappeared as he went down on me. He ate my pussy with skill and attention, beginning with my outer lips and then moving to my clit. One finger slid into my drenched pussy, then two, and he twisted them back and forth while his tongue circled my clit expertly.
Within minutes, I was coming against his face like there was no tomorrow. My cries of pleasure filled the apartment. As he finished, I could feel his lips curl into a smile against my sex.
“Those are the sounds I like to hear,” he purred. “Better than any workout noise.”
I panted. “It’s a kind of workout.”
“I’ll be sure to add it to your Rocky Mountain Fitness spreadsheet, then,” he teased.
Before I could think of a joke response, he rose off of me and flipped me over onto my knees. I gasped with surprise, and then pleasure. It had been so long since I had been man-handled that I forgot how much I loved it. Being maneuvered and positioned by a man strong enough to do whatever he wanted with me.
As if he could read my mind, he didn’t waste any time. I heard him take off his jeans, and then the tip of his cock pressed against my soaked lips. Once his head was inside me, he tossed aside all caution. He grabbed hold of my hips and rammed his cock inside me with an animal-like lust that turned me on more than being eaten out.
I tossed my head and arched my back, leaning into him to let him know how good it felt. He slid his palm along my back, then laced his fingers into my hair. He grabbed a handful and tightened his grip gently, enough for me to feel the pressure in my scalp. Testing, to see if it was what I liked.
I moaned loudly in response.
Thus encouraged, he gripped my hair harder and pulled. Just enough to crane my head back, controlling me while his cock filled me from behind. I shuddered with ecstasy and let out another low sigh while he fucked me.
“This is better than the cool-down I had planned,” he said lustily.
“I’m glad I ended my bike ride early,” I replied. “How long would you have waited if I hadn’t?”
“As long as I needed to.”
He slammed his cock into me again, making my entire body tingle with pleasure. I could feel the animal within him letting loose, taking what it wanted.
I turned to gaze back at him. He was an oil painting of muscle, arms flexed as he held onto me. He pulled my hair harder, whipping my head back around. I let out a cry of pleasure.
“You like it rough?” he inquired.
I managed to let out an affirmative noise. He responded with another deep thrust that sent explosions of pleasure shuddering through my body.
“Ohh…”
He pulled back slowly, leaving just the tip inside me. Then he paused and crashed back inside me, filling every inch of my pussy. Every one of Max’s strokes was long, deep, and hard. Like he was a weight-lifter focusing on his form.
It was simultaneously torture and ecstasy.
I moaned louder and louder as he used me like his plaything. I could sense how much he was enjoying it, and that heightened my own pleasure. I desperately wanted him to give in, to fuck me relentlessly rather than with his slow, torturous strokes. I wanted him to make me come, and then come himself, filling me with his juice…
“Fuck me,” I begged.
His grip tightened on my hair. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes, please, oh yes,” I moaned. “Fuck me, Max. Fuck me, make me come…”
He tortured me for a few more seconds, then finally let loose. He let go of my hair and grabbed my hips with both hands and fucked me with reckless abandon. I pushed my ass back against him with each stroke, urging him on as we moaned and sighed together, punctuated by the slapping sound of skin on skin.
Max reached around my hip and rubbed my clit. It was the final ignition I needed, and then my body was on fire with pleasure. Up and up and up I rose, until my muscles tensed and I felt like I was weightless in his grasp while his cock filled my pussy and his fingers circled my clit.
My orgasm was sudden, and intense, and was as satisfying as the final set of weights in a workout.
I clenched my inner muscles around his cock as tight as I could. That proved too much for Max. He fucked me for a few more seconds, then pulled out completely. He came around the side of the couch, grabbed a handful of my hair, and pulled my mouth onto his glistening cock. I moaned with surprise, then ecstasy as he shoved his beautiful cock into my mouth, so deep it almost made me gag.
He roared like an animal, holding my head down so I couldn’t move. His dick trembled inside my mouth, and then I felt him come. Load after load of his hot seed, shooting down the back of my throat while he cried out in a pleasure so intense it almost sounded painful. I moaned with him and tightened my lips around the base of his cock, eager to accept every drop.
Eager to please him.
We fell to the floor together, spent. Like two workout partners, we breathed heavily and leaned on each other for support.
Eventually, I giggled. “You were a little rough, there.”
He craned his head to look down at me. Sweat matted his golden hair around his temples, and his eyes were green pools in the darkness. “It wasn’t too much, was it?”
“No! Not at all.” I caressed my fingers over his chiseled chest. “I liked how you took charge.”
“Good. Next time I won’t go easy on you.”
I giggled harder at the thought.
“Next time…” I looked up at him. “You’re not afraid of getting in trouble with work, are you? For fucking one of the members?”
“They’re always telling us to go the extra mile with platinum members,” Max said smoothly. “I think this qualifies.”
“I’m inclined to agree with you.” I patted his bare cock, which was rapidly deflating against his leg. “But seriously. You’re not worried?”
He chuckled, which sent vibrations through his body into mine. “I’m already leaving once training season starts, so it’s not a big deal. Plus, I don’t care about the rules. Even if I was staying on with RMF, I wouldn’t let that stop me from doing what I wanted. I refuse to live my life afraid.”
“That’s… A good way of looking at the world,” I said.
He shrugged. “I can’t imagine living it any other way.”
I rose and pulled my clothes back on.
“Aww, don’t do that,” he complained.
“I promised you a drink,” I replied. “I’ve got wine, and a bottle of vodka…”
Max put his hands behind his head and winked at me. “Babe, that was just a pretext to come here and fuck you ragged. I don’t actually drink after a workout. It inhibits recovery.”
“Well, I’m not going to let that stop me. I’m getting a glass of wine. You want anything else? Water?”
“Actually, I’d kill for some of that pasta you made. I us
ually gorge myself after cycling, but I got sidetracked by a beautiful woman.”
I felt myself blush. “I’ll see what I can do.”
I returned a few minutes later with a glass of red wine for me, and a plate of reheated pasta for Max. I was saddened to see that he had put his clothes back on.
“This is good,” he said. “What’s the recipe?”
“It’s literally just grilled chicken, pasta, and a can of vodka sauce,” I explained.
“Coulda fooled me,” he said with his mouth full.
“You’re just extra hungry after your extra workout.”
“That’s probably it.” He kissed me on the cheek. “Thanks, Kat. I know it’s kind of presumptuous of me to invite myself over and then demand some of your food…”
I scoffed. “After the amazing time you just gave me? That’s a fair trade. Although, you are eating one of the meals I made for later in the week. By the time Friday rolls around, I’ll be out of food options and be tempted to get fast food.”
Max gestured with his fork. “Then I’ll just have to buy you dinner.”
“Hmm. Sounds like a date.”
“That’s because it is one.”
“What if someone sees us?” I asked. “If you get caught…”
He put a hand on my thigh and squeezed it. “Like I said. I refuse to live my life afraid.”
“Then I guess it’s a date.”
“I guess so.”
I clinked my wine glass to his bowl of pasta, and we grinned at each other.
22
Katherine
The rest of February was a breeze.
I spent more and more time at the gym each day. I knew I was letting my work at Vinyl High pile up—I had accounting to catch up on, and payroll to process, and inventory to review. I couldn’t spend all of my time listening to demo albums.
But I couldn’t bring myself to care. I had a new addiction to fuel.
Things were awkward with Finn for a week, but slowly we got into a groove of friendliness. He made a joke, then I made one back, and soon things were back to normal.
And then they went beyond normal.
It started with a dirty joke from Finn about making sure I was properly stretched out. I arched an eyebrow at him, and then he laughed when he realized the double-entendre. Then one day, while doing squats, I made a joke about the plates on the barbell. How I wasn’t able to handle something so thick.
The next time he was spotting me on my squats, I escalated things even further by sticking my ass out extra far, making sure my ass touched the front of his crotch. It was hardly any contact at all, but it was enough to send a message.
“I know what you’re doing,” he said quietly when I finished my set.
“I don’t think we should let the rules get in the way of what we want,” I replied.
He glared at me playfully. “That’s because there’s no consequence for you!”
I shrugged. “Sucks for you.”
Soon he was reciprocating in our sexy, teasing dance. One day he was helping stretch my legs—I laid flat on my back, and he lifted one leg until it was pointing at the ceiling. Slowly, he pushed it farther and farther, stretching out the muscles in a way I couldn’t accomplish by myself.
And then he slid his knee up between my legs, pressing it against my pussy. That same motion brought his crotch up against my stretched leg. I could feel his cock pressing against the underside of my thigh, thick and hot.
“I know what you’re doing,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So you can dish it out, but you can’t handle it?”
“I never said I couldn’t handle it.”
He tested this claim by rubbing his knee up and down my pussy.
I glanced around the room. It was pretty crowded, but this was a completely normal kind of stretch that personal trainers performed on clients. And the way my legs were positioned shielded anyone from seeing what his knee was doing.
“Oh, you’re evil,” I whispered.
Finn’s handsome, angled face remained calm. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
From that point on, every time I walked by Finn I made sure to let my hand brush against his crotch. After a few times, I felt daring enough to even give it a squeeze.
Then, the next time I was doing bench press, Finn made sure to spot me on the other side of the bar. He stood above me, crouching ever so slightly so that the massive bulge in his shorts was just inches above my head. With that in my view at all times, it was tough to focus on the exercise itself.
I countered by wearing skimpier and skimpier workout clothes. Nothing scandalous, of course. It wasn’t any worse than what the other gym girls wore. But it was more revealing for me. I stopped wearing a shirt over my sports bra. I switched from baggy running shorts to tight booty shorts that hugged my ass perfectly.
It was easy to do that because, in addition to the improvements in my strength and speed, I now looked good. The love-handles that had taunted me for years had disappeared, and I was developing a thigh gap. Rather than being chubby, I now considered myself thick. And based on the way I caught Finn staring at me, that was his type of girl.
I felt self-confident these days, too. It was amazing how much a woman’s self-esteem was tied to her body image.
Brody and I went on our second date. I took him on the train up to Winter Park, and we rented skis. He had never skied before, so he had to borrow a lot of my gear: my extra pair of gloves, and my brown ski mask that was covered with hot chocolate swirls and tiny dots of marshmallows. I also had to help him learn to ski on the bunny slope with all the little kids. It was hilarious watching him twist his skis into a pizza shape and gently slide down the mountain without any control at all. He fell on his butt at least a dozen times. But he was a good sport, and laughed and had a fun time while trying to improve.
We took breaks in the ski lodge, drinking hot chocolate and cuddling together by the fire. On the train ride back to Denver I kissed him, and we ended up making out until the woman in the seat across from us cleared her throat with annoyance.
When we got back to Denver and climbed into my car, I nervously said, “Should I take you home? Or… I don’t know. Do you maybe want to come back to my place?”
After making out on the train, I expected the question to be a mere formality. What guy didn’t want to go home with a beautiful woman who had spent the day teaching him to ski?
“You can just take me home,” he said.
I was so surprised I didn’t know what to say. “Oh.”
“If it’s alright, I’d like to take things slow,” he replied. “I have a bad habit of rushing into relationships too fast. It’s kind of my New Year’s resolution to be better about that.”
“Okay, yeah,” I said. “No problem.”
“I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course it’s okay,” I replied automatically. “Taking things slow is smart.”
But in my head, all I could think about was that he was going back to California by the end of summer, and that taking things slow was a waste of time.
Fortunately, I was getting my rocks off in other ways.
Max and I met for movie night on Friday. The newest Terminator movie was playing. It wasn’t very good, but Max and I spent the time by making provocative gestures at each other in the back of the room.
As promised, he took me out to dinner after. And then we went back to his place and fucked like mad.
I loved how rough Max was with me. Picking me up, tossing me down on my belly, then holding me down while having his way with me. He smothered me with his body, wrapping his arms around my chest and neck like a muscular boa constrictor. Within his grasp, I felt totally powerless. I was at his mercy.
And I loved every second of it.
Max liked to bike late at night because he preferred it quiet. It was his only time alone, he told me. Usually, I respected that.
But it was fun to tease him sometimes.
&nbs
p; One night when I was particularly horny, I waited until ten o’clock at night and went up to the spin room. Max was alone, as I’d hoped he would be. I closed and locked the door behind me.
“I’m forty miles into a sixty mile ride,” he said.
“That’s fine,” I said innocently. “I won’t disturb you.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Somehow, I don’t believe that.”
I did some stretches at the front of the room, making sure to bend over so that he had a perfect view of my ass. I could practically feel the desire wafting off of him as he spun.
“Is that supposed to tempt me?” he asked. “I have the willpower of a Tibetan monk.”
“That sounds like a challenge,” I retorted.
I went over to his spin machine and slid between the handlebars and the seat. Then I sat on his lap. His legs were moving as he pedaled, which bounced my ass up and down on his crotch. Like an erotic cycling lap dance.
Max let out a soft moan. Within seconds I could feel his hard-on pressing through his cycling pants, running down one leg. I repositioned myself so that my ass was on top of it, grinding back and forth.
“You should be spinning next to me,” Max said in a strained voice. “You need to catch up to Brody.”
I twisted and caressed his sweaty cheek. “Some things are more important than a silly points contest.”
I ground against him for three miles, then finally I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up off of him, pulled down my shorts, and pulled his cycling shorts down too. His rigid cock sprang vertical as soon as it was unleashed from its spandex prison. Then I sat back down, impaling myself on his dick.
We fucked like that, Max pistoning into me with each rotation of the pedals, and within half a mile we were both moaning and crying out, until finally he filled my pussy with his come and my own juices coated him.
He sighed into the back of my neck afterwards. “I suppose you think that was worth interrupting my ride?”
“Mmm hmm.”
He wrapped an arm around me, pawing one of my breasts and holding me close. “You win this round. But the next time I have my way with you, I’m going to be really dirty.”
