Personal Trainer

by Mia Carson

  “Because you haven’t hurt me.” She smiled then her face softened. “I’ve loved every second of everything you’ve done to me, and me to you. I just need a day, that’s all.” She smiled again. “You’ve been giving me quite a workout and I’m a little out of shape, but I’m sure you can whip me into shape in no time.”

  “That’s all it is?”

  She smiled again. “That’s all it is. You kissing me like that was making me want you, but I need the break. You’re sure you’re not mad?”

  I kissed her lips softly, gently. “No, I’m not mad. In the future, I’ll be more caref—”

  “No!” she said sharply, cutting me off. “Don’t change a thing. That first night, the second time, when you fucked the absolute shit out of me? I fucking loved it! I know you can be gentle, but sometimes I just want to fuck. If I thought telling you was going to change the way you made love to me, I wouldn’t have said anything. Promise me, if I want you to fuck me like that again, you will. Can you promise me that?”

  I smiled and brushed her lips with mine. “I promise. I don’t want to hurt you, that’s all.”

  “I’m not going to break, Neil. Now, I’ll make you a promise. If you start to hurt me, I’ll tell you, otherwise, I’m fine, okay?”

  I kissed her again, a little more forcefully this time. “Okay, deal.”

  “And you’re not mad?”

  I shook my head. “Not mad.”

  “Disappointed?”

  “Of course,” I said, but my tone was teasing. “I’ll live. Making love to you is the best part of my day, but holding you as I go to sleep is the second-best.”

  This time she kissed me. “I feel the same way. Want me to give you a blow—”

  “No. I’d rather just hold you.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.” I kissed her again, a long, slow meeting of our lips before I flopped to my back and pulled her in tight to my side so she could lie against me. She snuggled in, my arm around her back, her leg propped on one of mine as she rested her head on my chest and shoulder. This had become our go-to snuggle position for sleeping. “I don’t need to fuck you, Tanya. What I want is to make love to you, if that makes sense. You don’t have to do it for me because you think I need it.”

  She nodded slowly. “I understand.”

  I kissed her on the head. “Good. I didn’t come here tonight because I thought I was going get laid. I came because I wanted to spend time with you.”

  I felt her smile. “So, you don’t care if we don’t make love?”

  I knew she was teasing. “Well, let’s not get crazy.”

  “Thank you,” she said after a long moment of quiet.

  My brow wrinkled in confusion. “For what?”

  “For understanding.”

  I had to think a moment before I knew how to answer that. “You’re welcome, but I hope you understand that I enjoy your company as much as I enjoy what you do to me. Maybe more.”

  She nodded slowly. “Same here.”

  “So, does that mean you don’t care if we don’t make love?” I asked, parroting her words back to her.

  She snickered, then rose and stretched for a kiss. “Well, let’s not get crazy,” she whispered as our lips slowly parted.

  Tanya

  I swam up out of sleep. I was in Neil’s arms, the sun was shining, and the birds were singing. Then I realized the damned birds was my phone waking me up. I reached across him, grabbed my phone, and shut the birds up. I fell back into the snuggle with a contented sigh. I could certainly get used to waking up like this. The only thing that could be better is if I woke up on my own, without the birds.

  “I hate those fucking birds,” he rumbled without moving a muscle.

  I breathed out a quiet laugh and kissed his chest. “Yeah, me too.”

  He stretched with a groan and gave me a proper good morning kiss. “You have any eggs?” he asked.

  “A few, why?”

  “I’ll make breakfast.”

  I groaned and sat up. “I can do that.”

  “Nope. You cooked last night, I’ll make breakfast. You can take your shower, then I’ll take mine.”

  There was another round of kissing, and I couldn’t resist giving his hardness a couple of slow strokes, but he didn’t make any move to go further, so I rolled out of bed.

  As I washed, I fretted over him not taking me up on my gentle nudge this morning. I was still a little sore but much improved since last night. The thirty-six-hour break had done wonders for me. Last night he’d said he wasn’t mad, but I was still apprehensive, especially after this morning. I supposed he could be waiting for me to make the first move, but I had and he hadn’t followed up.

  I slapped the water off in annoyance. Why did I even care if he was upset? I’d never cared before. But the fact was, I did care. I cared what he thought, and I didn’t want to fuck this up. He was a good man. He was thoughtful and kind. He made me feel special and wanted in all the best ways, and yes, if I was honest with myself, I liked the fact that he fucked me like no man had ever fucked me before.

  “Breakfast!” he called, leaning against the bathroom door frame with his hands as he leaned in between them. He was wearing only a pair of jeans, no shirt and no socks, and goddamn did he look fuckable.

  “Be right there.”

  He nodded and turned away. I started to dress, but threw on a robe instead so my eggs wouldn’t get cold and walked to the kitchen. On the table sat two plates of scrambled eggs with two triangles of toast each, coffee, and two glasses of orange juice.

  “The only ham I could find was lunch meat,” he said as we sat.

  I could see bits of the thin-sliced meat mixed in the eggs, along with what appeared to be cheese. “These look wonderful.” I forked in a bite of eggs and chewed. “These are great!”

  “Glad you like them,” he said as he took a bite.

  “Can I ask you something?” I asked as we ate.

  “Sure.”

  “Why do you shave?” I asked as I waved my hand over my own chest.

  “Is it a problem?”

  “No, I actually like it, but I was wondering.”

  He nodded and smiled faintly. “Kind of a tradition in the gymnastic circles. Think about it, how often do you see a hairy male gymnast? Having hair sticking out everywhere as you do your routine…not attractive. Judges will probably deny it, but part of your score is how you look. They want to see the cut of the muscles, and if it’s obscured by hair, that might cost you a tenth or two. At that level of competition, you can’t afford to give anything away.” He shrugged. “Now I do it because it’s like shaving my face. It’s part of who I am. When I feel the stubble scraping on my clothes, I know it’s time to do it again.”

  “How often?”

  “How often do I shave my body?” One corner of his lips quirked up in a half smile. “Couple times a month. I don’t literally shave, I use hair remover. It only takes me a few minutes to do since I’ve been doing it so long. Smear it on, wait a few minutes, step in the shower, and it’s done. I did it last night before I came over because I needed to shower anyway…and so I’d be baby smooth for you,” he finished with a teasing grin.

  “You sure you’re not upset about last night?” Why couldn’t I let it go?

  He frowned slightly. “Why would I be upset? I told you I wasn’t. Didn’t you believe me?”

  “I did, but this morning…”

  “What about it?”

  “You didn’t seem to want to.”

  He smiled. “Wanted to be sure. Want to go now?” His smile slowly faded. “Seriously, are you over being sore?”

  “Mostly. Still a bit tender inside.”

  He leaned over and brought his lips close to mine. “Then take the rest of the day,” he whispered before kissing me softly. He left a trail of slow kisses to my ear. “Then tonight, I’ll wear your ass out,” he breathed.

  I felt a thrill of anticipation as he bit me delicately on the ear lobe. “Prom
ise?”

  “Cross your heart,” he said as he drew a finger slowly down between my breasts and then cupped one. I felt another shiver of expectation.

  He kissed me again, and I decided we were going to have to do something to take the edge off. A little licking and kissing would really hit the spot right now.

  I stood. If we were going to do this, I wanted to get going on it. “Hop in the shower while I clean up.”

  I’d do him in the shower and he could do me on the bed. I quickly rinsed our plates and glasses. That task finished, I stepped into the bathroom. He was rinsing the soap from his body, his head tipped back with his eyes closed as his hands glided over his body. I wanted a piece of that. I let my robe fall, forever thankful that I’d chosen clear glass for the enclosure instead of frosted. I pulled a pair of towels from the cabinet and opened the shower door. Hearing the door, he looked at me in surprise.

  I stepped in and dropped to the two folded towels to the floor. “Kneepads,” I said with a grin as I stepped in close to him.

  He smiled down at me and pulled me into an absolutely torrid kiss. If he was upset, he was hiding it well. I started kissing my way down his body as my hand surrounded his shaft.

  “I have a better idea,” he said as he pulled me upright and began kissing down my body.

  I tried to kneel again, but he held me upright by pressing me back into the wall. When he reached my stomach, he quickly rose and turned my back to his chest. He pulled me in, his hands caressing my breasts as he nuzzled my neck, but he lowered himself to the bottom of the shower, slithering between my legs as he pulled me down with him. He lay down on his back, his head in the sharp end of my shower, his knees pulled up tight and his feet on the floor. It was going to be a little snug, but I thought we could make it work. I tried to turn around and lower myself over him, so we could please each other, but he was having none of it.

  “Like this,” he whispered, positioning the towels under my knees as he continued to draw me down, preventing me from reversing my direction, until I was sitting on his face, facing the corner of the pie. Then he kissed me, his lips and tongue flashing and caressing.

  The showerhead was large, mounted in the center of the enclosure, and the water from it fell like warm summer rain as his big, strong, hands slid up my body to hold my breasts. He teased the points to aching erectness as his tongue and lips caused a fire water couldn’t quench to roar inside of me.

  “Fuck,” I muttered as I leaned forward into his arms, resting my head against the shower wall as the water flowed over us.

  This was a new position for me, and a very dominant one. I’d never sat on a man’s face like this before, and the novelty of it was revving me up. I quickly found I could easily adjust the intensity of his kissing by raising or lowering myself slightly and changing the angle of my hips. I wanted to sit up, I wanted to reach behind him and stroke his cock until he came as he ate me alive, but what I did was grab his hair and pull his mouth harder into my womanhood as he devoured me.

  “Shit! Fuck!” I snarled. In my imagination I could see us in the shower, his cock standing proud and erect as I sat on his face, my hands in his hair as I face-fucked him, his hands gripping my breasts, the muscles of his chest and arms rippling as he controlled me. The water poured over us, his body gleaming as I hunched over, consumed by the pleasure he was giving me. In my mind’s eye, I could see it all, as if I was another person watching us, and it was erotic as fuck.

  “Fuck…fuck…fuck…fuck!” I growled, my hips lunging on the last word as a nova of pleasure went off inside of me, making me quiver as I fought my body for control.

  I couldn’t stand it anymore! I threw myself back with a soft cry, desperate to be free of the exquisite torture he was inflicting on me. I sat on his chest, eyes closed as I giggled. My feet were on the floor, forcing my legs high as they twisted and moved of their own accord, my fists gripped tight as my arms rested on my knees, and I slumped between them. Finally, after a minute, an hour, a century, my orgasm released me. I sagged lower, and it took all my remaining strength to prevent me from oozing into a puddle and being washed away down the drain.

  “Fuck,” I muttered as another wave of tingles passed through me, causing me to shiver.

  I looked down. I was sitting on Neil’s chest, just below his nipples. His hands were holding my face and he was smiling up at me. I wasn’t certain when, or how, I’d gotten there.

  “Now do you believe me when I tell you I’m not mad at you?”

  I couldn’t help but giggle as I slid a little lower, tipped back to my knees, and allowed him to pull my lips down into a long, warm, wet kiss.

  -oOo-

  We drove to EatRite Delight in his car simply because his was sitting behind mine. After I’d recovered from him making my head explode in the shower, I’d tried to return the favor, but he’d brushed it aside. At first I was concerned, but his tender kisses had finally convinced me that he simply wanted to please me and expected nothing in return. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I’d given more than one blow job simply because the man I was with at the time wanted one, but no man I’d ever been with had cared about my pleasure at the expense of his own.

  “You know what you’re going to say?” I prompted, breaking the companionable silence.

  “More or less.”

  “You need to make him mad if you can. People say things when they’re mad without thinking.”

  “I know, coach,” he said with a grin.

  I matched his smile with one of my own. After Neil’s shower, I’d spent the morning coaching him. I’d played Ed and let him try to bait me. It would help if we knew which of Ed’s buttons to push, but we didn’t, so he was going to have to play it by ear. I desperately wanted to be there with him, but we both knew Ed would clam up tight if he thought anyone was listening in.

  Neil pulled a stop in the parking lot and we got out of the car. We were early, and I was going to go inside first and wait, pretending to be a customer.

  “Good luck, and for God’s sake, don’t forget to turn on the camera,” I whispered and gave him a quick kiss before walking quickly away.

  Neil would arrive a bit after me and take a table outside. I took a table where I could see the door and ordered the grilled chicken on pita and a water. I wasn’t hungry and could take it home for later, but I wanted to have food in front of me in case Ed came in.

  Sitting inside, not knowing what was going on, was killing me. Being here made no difference whatsoever, but I couldn’t sit at home either. I didn’t expect the meeting to take long, and by 3:30, I was tempted to walk out just to see if Ed had arrived. If he hadn’t shown up by now, he wasn’t going to.

  I ordered a takeout box, placed the untouched sandwich inside, and paid my tab, drawing out the process as much as possible. I was waiting on my credit card to come back when Neil stepped in and glanced around. When he spotted me, he smiled and pumped his fist in front of his chest in low key victory as he approached. He slid into the booth with me.

  “Got him?” I asked

  “Got him.”

  Now my card couldn’t come back fast enough.

  We returned to my house, Neil telling me about the meeting as we drove. People’s memories were notoriously unreliable, but assuming he remembered it correctly and didn’t misunderstand something Ed had said, it sounded like we had Ed dead to rights. I was all but tingling with excitement and dying to see what the tiny camera I’d hidden in his shirt had captured. That was the proof if he tried to lie about what he’d said.

  He pulled to a stop in my drive, and I was out of the car almost before the engine stopped. We hurried into my house, and as he removed the camera from his shirt, I booted my computer. I was breaking my no-work-at-home rule again, but screw it. I had to know what the camera had captured.

  I plugged the memory card into my computer and extracted the video. I was almost panting. If the camera had screwed up in some way, we’d never get another shot.

  Nei
l sat down beside me, and I started the video. For almost five minutes there was nothing but ambient sounds and the passing of cars in the street. The camera spun crazily.

  You wanted to see me? Ed said.

  Sit down, Neil ordered.

  The camera whirled again, and Ed sat down across the table from Neil. He was perfectly framed, and we could clearly see every expression.

  What do you want? Ed asked.

  What I want to know is why? I thought we were friends.

  I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ed said as he leaned back.

  Don’t bullshit me. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Vanesa is going to testify that you hired her to set me up. I’ve got a lot more video of her than what you saw on the television. I’m going to burn your ass, unless you tell me why.

  Ed glared at Neil. You’ve got shit. The word of a woman that’s an admitted liar. I’m sure that’ll carry a lot of weight in court.

  Neil tossed the five photos on the table. Ed didn’t even reach for them. She picked you out. I’d say that’s good enough. I also know you’re the one who has been spreading the rumors, Neil said.

  Bullshit!

  It’s true. I tracked all the accounts back to your IP address. 134.201.120.105. That’s your IP address, isn’t it? You don’t have to answer. I know it is.

  I glanced at Neil and smirked. He knew it was because I’d looked it up and told him it was. Sometimes the best way to get information was to pretend to have it already.

  Bullshit! I didn’t… Ed paused, his face twisting in anger.

  You didn’t what? Didn’t create all the accounts from your servers? Didn’t send all your lies from there? Maybe not, but some you did, didn’t you? And your server’s IP address was logged as the computer that created the accounts. Who, besides you, Ed, could do that from your servers? My guess is nobody.

  Ed sneered. Phone on the table.

  What? Neil asked.

  Phone on the table. You want to talk, then let’s talk. I don’t want you recording any of this.