by Ily Goyanes
Since I’d had to go to Target to buy an exercise mat, I’d figured I might as well get some new workout clothes to go with it. I stripped off my work clothes and slipped into a pair of gray sweatpants with blue stripes down the side, a loose-fitting navy T-shirt, and a pair of plain white Chuck Taylors. Then I checked myself out in the mirror. Yep. Pretty darn cute.
A few other women had arrived while I was changing clothes. One of them worked two cubicles down from me and she smiled when she saw me. I waved. I was about to set myself up next to her when our instructor walked in the room.
“Good evening, ladies,” the instructor said. “Welcome to boot camp. My name is Kerin, and I’ll be busting your butts today.”
There was some quiet laughter from the other women, but not from me. I was too stunned to laugh. Or speak. Or think.
Kerin was probably in her early thirties and not very tall. She had short, spiky blonde hair with black roots that reminded me of the guy on “Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives.” She had on a pair of tight black capris and a purple sports bra with a Nike swoosh between her breasts. Her outfit couldn’t have been tighter or shown more of her flat tummy. I supposed that was the point. Was it possible to have negative body fat? I’d never seen anyone so…solid. And I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I think Kerin noticed. She moved to the front of the class and put her hands on her hips.
“I’m glad to see you all here today,” she said. “I don’t believe in wasting time, so lets get started with some stretches.”
Kerin demonstrated what she wanted us to do and the rest of us followed her lead, stretching our legs, arms, backs. I could feel the strain in my muscles as I tried to touch my toes. When was the last time I’d gotten any exercise? I couldn’t even remember. Unless really vigorous sex counted. And it should. But even that had been a while.
After the stretching, Kerin had us do some jumping jacks. I hadn’t done jumping jacks since high school gym class. That seemed easy enough. But then Kerin added a little twist. After five jumping jacks she had us drop to the floor, do a push-up, jump back to our feet and do five more jumping jacks.
I thought I was going to die.
“Don’t worry if you can’t do a push-up,” Kerin said, weaving her way between us as we jumped, jacked and pushed. “Just do the best you can today and try to do better next time.”
The best I could do today was to not have a heart attack. So far I was managing that. But I didn’t know how long I could keep it up. After the jumping jacks from hell, Kerin had us doing squat thrusts. I should have enjoyed watching her demonstrate them, but I was dreading doing them too much to really appreciate her demonstration. I tried my best to keep up with everyone but my out-of-shape body was screaming at me to stop.
The five-minute break we got was not enough.
After the break, Kerin had us get flat on our stomachs for an exercise she called the sea turtle. We arched our backs and raised our arms and legs off the floor (which took a lot of effort on its own) then mimicked swimming like a sea turtle. She kept us at it until I thought my arms were going to fall off.
“Great,” Kerin said, clapping her hands together. “Since I have you on the floor, I want you to get on your hands and knees. We’re going to do some donkey kicks.”
I was ready to collapse. What had I gotten myself into?
I thought my body hurt when I got home that night, but it was nothing compared to the ache I felt Wednesday morning when I tried to get out of bed. My body was not happy with me. A long, hot shower and a couple of Advil made the pain manageable enough that I could drag my ass to work, but I was sluggish all day. I felt old. Out of shape. The simple act of taking a few steps seemed to take a lot of effort. And I was going to put myself through this again tomorrow? I didn’t think I could even do a single stretch, never mind a squat thrust.
And of course I kept thinking about Kerin in her sports bra and tight black pants. Her body was perfect. Lean, athletic. I couldn’t imagine myself doing what it would take to achieve that look. But I could imagine pulling that sports bra up over her head and staring at her naked breasts before I bent down and kissed them. And I could definitely imagine sliding my hand between her legs and rubbing her pussy through the crotch of her capris.
The chance to see Kerin again was worth all the body aches.
The second night of boot camp started out the same as the first, but Kerin tossed a few new exercises at us to keep things interesting. She looked just as amazing as she had two nights before in a nearly identical outfit to the one she’d worn on Tuesday. But I hardly had time to admire her; she kept the pace brisk. It was all I could do to keep up. While I tried to steal glances at her ass when I could, the workout was just too much for me to enjoy looking at her. I did notice that no one else in class seemed to be having as much trouble as I was, even though I wasn’t the only big girl there. It was like I was fighting with every exercise. Or more like every exercise was beating up on me and I was just covering my face to protect myself as best I could. Things had to get better, right? If I kept at this, eventually it would have to get easier.
It certainly couldn’t get harder.
I thought with several days to recover I’d do better at the next boot camp. And at first that was proving to be true. I stretched, I kicked like a donkey and I crunched my abs. And felt good doing it. But then about twenty minutes in, the ache returned and my arms felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each. Sweat gathered at the small of my back. I just wanted it to be over with. Then Kerin clapped her hands together to get our attention.
“Today we’re going to end with something different,” she said.
Her words filled me with dread. What now? What book about the Spanish Inquisition had she read over the weekend to inspire her?
“Follow me,” Kerin said.
And we did. We followed her out of the room and down the hall. She stopped at the stairwell.
“We’re going to work the stairs today,” Kerin said. “Up to the fourth floor and back down. This isn’t a race, so don’t try to make it one. Walking is acceptable. Let’s go!”
Kerin took off up the stairs. The rest of the class followed her. I pulled up the rear. Walking may have been acceptable to Kerin, but for me it was mandatory. Run up four flights of stairs? Who the hell was she kidding? I started upstairs and felt like I was wading through four feet of quicksand. But I told myself this was supposed to be good for me, that I would be glad later if I did this now.
That argument got me to the second floor. Going any farther was out of the question. I sat down on the top step, wanting to cry. Why was I doing this to myself? Was it really worth it? I liked who I was; I was comfortable with how I looked. I didn’t need this. What was I trying to prove?
I was still asking myself that in the locker room while I was changing back into my work clothes.
“Are you okay?”
I turned around. Kerin was standing a few feet from me, a concerned look on her face. I was so lost in thought I hadn’t even heard the door open behind me. Now I was hyperaware of everything. Like how it was just the two of us in the locker room. And how I hadn’t buttoned my blouse yet. If Kerin noticed she didn’t let on.
“Feeling my age, but okay,” I said.
Kerin smiled. “Good.”
“But I don’t think I’ll be able to finish this class,” I said. “It’s just too much right now and I’m too out of shape. I thought I could handle it, but I was wrong.”
“I think you’re doing just fine,” Kerin said. “Getting started is the hardest part.”
“And quitting is the easiest party,” I replied, nodding. “But I think it’s for the best.”
Kerin shook her head. “I don’t believe in giving up. And I don’t want to see you give up after three classes. Give it one more chance. And if you still feel this way, then I won’t argue.”
“I appreciate that,” I said. “But I’ve made up my mind.”
Kerin arched an eyebrow at me. “Oh, you hav
e, huh?” She moved closer, close enough that I could feel the heat coming off her body. Though I wouldn’t swear I could actually see it, her muscles seemed to be in constant motion, as if the sheath of her skin could barely contain them. She was lightning in a bottle, crackling with energy that needed to escape. I was pretty sure if she didn’t work out and expend that energy she would explode. The intensity in her eyes burned into mine and so completely distracted me I didn’t notice her hand on the move until it was cupping my breast. Like an idiot, I gasped.
“I think you need some extra-special motivation,” Kerin told me softly. She brushed the flat of her thumb over my nipple, teasing it hard through my bra. “I want you to give this class one more chance. Be here on Thursday and I will make it worth your while.”
Kerin gave my breast a good, hard squeeze then walked away without another word.
When I got to class on Thursday, Kerin saw me and nodded. “Glad you could make it,” she said.
I managed not to blush in front of my coworkers, but I had absolutely no control over the twinge I felt between my legs. Kerin had on the same outfit she’d been wearing the first day of boot camp, and the thought of running my hands over that hard, athletic body she loved showing off made my insides flutter. I just had to make it through this class.
Kerin didn’t make it easy.
Once again we started out with stretches. She had us doing push-ups and jumping jacks. We were upright one minute, face down on the floor the next. I was breathless in no time, hurting soon after that. But I thought about Kerin’s hand on my breast, and the promise of her touching me other places, and kept going. Even when she led us down the hall and to the stairwell—where I wanted to scream so loud it would echo through the entire building—I just kept going. Up five flights of stairs today and back down, when two days ago I barely made it up one flight. It took me longer than everyone else, and I hurt more than ever, but I still did it.
Everyone else had cleared out by the time I got back to the locker room. I saw no sign of Kerin. My heart sank a little. Had she just been jerking me around? Had I just walked up five flights of stairs and back down again for nothing? I was all geared up to be furious. But then the door opened and Kerin walked in. Everything was quickly forgiven and forgotten.
“Good job today,” Kerin said.
I smiled. “Thanks.”
“I knew you could do it if you tried.”
I didn’t know what to say. But I didn’t have time to say anything. Kerin closed the distance between us in two quick steps and pinned me against the lockers, her body pressed hard against mine as she kissed me. I grunted against her lips, sliding my hands over her like I had been thinking about since the first time she walked into the fitness room. She was like stone, hard and lean. I could feel the curves of her muscles; feel them moving under her skin, like waves rolling onto the shore. Kerin slid her hand under my T-shirt to grab my breast and I answered her by grabbing her ass with both hands. She moaned and kissed me deeper, her tongue dancing over mine. Once again I was breathless because of her, but for very different reasons this time. Her hand fell away from my breast and moved between my legs. She cupped my mound through my sweats, grinding the heel of her palm into me. I moaned and thrust my hips at her, desperately and pitifully trying to hump her hand.
“Please,” I whispered between kisses.
Kissing me again, Kerin shoved her hand down the front of my sweatpants and traced the cleft of my pussy through my panties. Her touch made me whimper. For the last hour she’d made my body ache from her sadistic workout routine, and now my body ached for her touch, ached to have her fingers inside me. She didn’t make me suffer long. Kerin slipped her fingers under the crotch of my panties and thrust into me, fucking me so hard I slammed back against the lockers. She pumped her fingers into my slick cunt, her kisses the only thing keeping my cries and moans from filling the locker room. My pussy clenched and unclenched around her fingers in raging fits as she took me closer and closer to the edge. I could feel my clit pulsing with need and was desperate for Kerin to touch me there. She had other plans for me.
Stepping back and pulling me with her, Kerin spun me around so I was facing the lockers now. She shoved me forward a little and I groaned when Kerin yanked my sweatpants and panties down in one fluid motion. I could feel her behind me, feel her energy, like a wild animal stalking its prey before it strikes. I hissed through gritted teeth when Kerin slid her hand over my bare ass and gave it a slap so sharp it echoed through the locker room like a thunderclap. Then she was inside me again, three fingers filling my pussy, fucking me from behind. I pushed back against her, wanting her even deeper inside me, matching each thrust as Kerin slid her fingers in and out of me. Harder, faster, deeper. I pressed my cheek against the cool metal of the locker as Kerin drove me to orgasm. With her fingers inside me, she reached around with her free hand and attacked my clit from the front, rubbing it, making little circles around it with the tips of her first two fingers. I quickly lost it; lost it all over Kerin’s hands. She didn’t let up. I rode her fingers until the last ripples of orgasm faded into stillness.
Struggling to breathe, I turned around to face her. Kerin stared intently at me, her face flushed, fire burning behind her hazel eyes. She held up her hand, showed me the fingers she’d had inside me, showed me how they glistened with my juices, and I watched her, transfixed as she wiped my slickness on her bare tummy. Her look turned expectant. She didn’t need to say anything. My sweatpants half off me, my insides still quivering, I knelt down in front of Kerin. Her bare midriff with my juices smeared across it was all I could see and I leaned into her, covering her firm tummy with kisses. Kerin moaned above me, her hands tangling in my hair as I kissed and licked her clean, the taste of myself mingled with her sweat making me dizzy. Using both hands, I pulled her capris and her panties down just far enough so I could get at her. The earthy, wet smell of her cunt filled my senses and instead of teasing her like I might have done with another woman, I buried my face in the wetness of her, hungrily lapping at her swollen folds. Kerin tightened her grip in my hair, holding on with both hands as I swirled my tongue inside her. The damp warmth of her pussy covered my face as I ate her, my greedy mouth pressed tight against her hole. I was a woman consumed, possessed. Her moans and sighs sounded faint and distant, barely reaching me in the world I had lost myself in. I slid my hands up the backs of her legs and cupped her tight ass, pulling Kerin onto my face while I fucked her with my tongue. I could feel each spasm of her pussy as I took her to the brink, and when my tongue at last made its way to her swollen clit, those spasms became an earthquake that shook us both to our very core.
After a few seconds of silence, she stroked my hair. “So will I see you in class next week?” Kerin finally asked me.
Breathing in the smell of her, the taste of her on my lips, I turned and leaned my face against the smooth wet heat of Kerin’s pussy then whispered, “Yes.”
FACING THE MUSIC
Kiki DeLovely
When Nic suggested we fly out East to attend her twenty-fifth-year high school reunion, I immediately leapt at the opportunity. Although admittedly wary of such events, I couldn’t resist the image of us walking into a Catholic school—her, the clean-cut high school jock, with me, a somewhat more colorful, scantily dressed high femme, on her arm—and the ridiculous looks on all her schoolmates’ faces that would undoubtedly ensue. It was too good to pass up.
Nic assured me that despite the fact that it was an all-girl institution, we’d be the only queer couple there, but since she was always considered the school’s golden girl, we’d easily find folks who were welcoming. What should have put me at ease instead made me increasingly nervous as I got dressed that first night of the event. I had been all riled up about the spectacle aspect of us making an appearance at a very conservative, very Catholic reunion, and once the novelty of that wore off, entonces qué? Sure, we’d get some stares, perhaps elicit a whisper or two, but then the open-minded Democrats
would take us under their wing and want to reminisce about old times. And I’d die a slow death of boredom. Suddenly I wasn’t so excited about the evening ahead, which seemed less and less scandalous by the moment.
We got there a little bit late, so the halls were empty when we walked in, with the faintest sound of ’80s music playing in a distant, closed-off space. I could just picture what the room looked like, tackily decorated with streamers, balloons and disco balls. I had been dragging my heels at the hotel—spending way too long deciding what to wear, perfecting my makeup much more so than necessary—anything to delay a night of conversations with a bunch of just-left-of-center old classmates and their partners, I mean husbands. The sound of my heels clicking on the granite echoed down the fluorescent-flickering hallway, brightly colored arrows leading the way toward the reception. Nic had a look on her face I didn’t quite recognize, but I could only imagine that all sorts of memories were flooding back, being in this place again after so many years.
Then she took a sharp right unexpectedly and was pulling me down a more dimly lit hallway. “I’m not ready to go in there yet. Let’s take you on a tour.”
“A tour, huh?” Knowing her as well as I did, I could only imagine what that meant in Nic’s beautifully creative mind. But where exactly would she take this? Was she going to pin me up against the head cheerleader’s locker? Hoist me onto the art studio’s worktables? Perhaps a little naughty schoolgirl play in the science lab? Instead she took me somewhere unexpected…to the locker room. It was clear they hadn’t updated this room since the 1940s and yet it was still as pristinely white as I’d imagine it would have been back then. I ran my fingers across the cold, sterilized tiles and tried to picture this room twenty-five years before, filled with girls just out of gym class, my lover in the midst of it all, trying desperately not to stare. As I lost myself in this (somewhat) innocent fantasy, I suddenly found myself pinned up against those same white tiles. The shock of where the cold porcelain met my warm bits of exposed skin made me gasp. My lover covered my mouth quickly with one hand as the other traveled up my inner thigh, trailing slowly, teasing me.
