I am your average personal trainer, working at Cindy’s Spa and Health Studio here in town. Not much of a job, you might say? Well, in a way your right; and you’re also very wrong. I call the place Cyn’s (sins) meat market and sweat studio.
Ladies flock to the Spa looking to lose a few pounds and to get out of the house and away from the curtain climbers, rug rats and other assorted kids. They are looking for adult conversation and some understanding. That’s where I come in.
I’m just a regular guy, 5 foot, 11 inches tall. I weigh around 210 pounds. I am not a muscle bound gym freak as you may think. I have a community college degree in Personal Training/Sports Medicine, and another in Massage Therapy.
You see, I do drive one of those fancy sports cars made here in the States. I also live in the penthouse over at the new high rise in the downtown area.
You ask me, how can that be? You are all mostly professional guys, busting your tails to get ahead while I drive the $60,000 car and have a condo worth three times that.
It all started about three years ago.
EMILY HARRIS:
Emily came to me as a client at the spa. First she wanted just to have a professional show her how to use the machines and make the most of her workouts. I was more than willing to take her on as a client for a two month training cycle.
Emily’s first session was much like all the other ladies sessions. She was modestly dressed and quite shy around the equipment. I did indeed notice that she was really a very sexy woman, or would be if she had a bit more self-confidence.
Yes, I did spend an extra amount of time with her, complimenting her, and more importantly listening to her problems and anxieties. The lady had a foot locker full of frustrations. One of her biggest complaints was how her husband always had time for work, and none for her. I just smiled and helped her along.
Getting toward the end of that first session, she “accidently” brushed her wonder breasts against me while slowly exiting the thigh press weight machine. Her nipples were instantly as hard as a diamond tipped drill bit, and so was I. She just smiled, gave me a wink and said, “I do like a man who can please me.”
Emily’s next session was in an entirely other league. She showed up with a smile ten miles wide and was wearing a spandex outfit that left nothing to the imagination. Even her camel toe was obvious. I was sure she had dressed for me and I was more willing to take a chance on her being ready for a little hide the weenie game.
I suggested that she might benefit from a massage following the work out session.
It was well worth the work. She started flirting with me immediately and kept it up until the session was done. All during the work out she kept telling me about her marital concerns and her kids. I was the good counselor and just listened with an occasional “OK” or “Uh huh.”
We then hit the massage room. We were alone in there as there were no other massage clients at that particular time. I played Ems body like a violin. I kept it all very modest and professional, but made sure the massage was as erotic as possible without getting pornographic. I even managed to lightly brush her nipples, just to keep it hot.
As I walked her to the door, she suddenly stopped, looked around to see if anyone was watching. She reached up and tugged my face to hers, laying a not very chaste kiss on me. She in a low voiced asked me, “Honey, you free for a couple of hours? My hubby is a work and the kids are in school until 3 O’clock.”
I told her that even though it was still morning I had no other appointments with clients that day.
She looked up at me, took my hand and moved it to her ample breast and asked me to follow her home. She would be alone in the house until late afternoon; and she would love to make me lunch for being so helpful.
Now who could turn down an offer like that?
I followed her to a very nice and well cared for home in a rather well to do neighborhood. She opened the garage door and motioned for me to park inside next to her car.
As soon as the garage door was down and I was out of my car she was all over me. She had her tongue down my throat and she started working on getting me naked. I had to stop her or we’d have fucked right there in the garage.
Walking backwards and never letting her eyes leave mine, she led us to the master bedroom. As soon as we were through that doorway she started pulling her clothes off. Never have I seen spandex peeled from a body so quickly in my life.
Her body was magnificent. Her breasts were perfect orbs topped by nipples that stood out at least half and inch and were already drawn up tight as any nubbin could be. Her pubes were trimmed into a perfect landing strip the pointed directly to her pussy. I could already smell her arousal.
She dropped to her knees and immediately pulled my workout sweats down to my knees and with two hands lifted my penis to her lips. She took me in a deep throat in one swift plunge. There is no cock sucker in the world like Emily Harris!
She did things to my cock like no other woman has before or since.
The woman was insatiable. She worked my cock up and down until I came in her mouth. She really had a horny mind. Once I had shot my load, she opened her mouth to show me my own cum. Then smiling sweetly at me swallowed my load. Standing back up, she brought her lips to mine to share my cum with her. I knew that was kind of pervert, but I loved it and joined in the tongue play. She asked me, “How do we taste, lover?”
The only thing I could think of to say was, “If this is us, doll, then it’s better than a steak dinner.” And I meant every syllable of it.
I then brought her to orgasm a couple of more times pumping my cock into her with grand fervor until neither of us could take any more.
When I got ready to leave, she just nonchalantly reached into her purse and handed me my first one hundred dollar bill. I told Emily that it wasn’t necessary, but she insisted telling me, “I’m not paying for sex; I’m buying your discretion.” Who could argue with that logic?
Just as I went through the door back out to the garage where my car was parked, she said one thing that changed my life. She said, “Al, I care about you because you listen to me, you not only listen, you think it’s important what I say. That’s how of that I know you care about me.”
We became a habit with each other. The sex was always hot, and always at her home, and always in her marital bed. I think it may have been some kind of pay back to her hubby in her mind.
MICHELLE (MICKIE) PARSONS:
Mickie is the love of my life. There is no other woman on the planet quite like her. If she ever tires of her husband, I want her to know that I would love to be the first one in line to be with her forever.
Mickie is five foot one or two inches tall and has a body that one could call boyish. Her chest is adorned with rather small but very perky breasts. They are like two eggs hung on a white board, but what they lack in size they make up for in sensitivity. One lick and she’s at the edge of an orgasm.
I met Mickie at a soccer game I was refereeing for the local youth league. She was on the sidelines cheering for her girls when I noticed her. She for some reason just caught my attention. She was blonde, almost white haired and had it cut into a boyish cut. She had the cutest face I could imagine with freckles across her nose that wrinkled as she cheered on her daughters.
I could tell she noticed me as well. As soon as the game was over she came up to me, and thanked me for officiating the game; even though her daughter’s team lost. As she shook my hand, she slipped me a business card. On the back was scrawled, “Call me.”
The next day I did. She was very forthright, telling me that she had heard about me though a friend (Emily if I had guessed) and she wanted to avail herself of my services. She told me to meet here at the local steak house tomorrow at 11:30 am for a quick lunch. I did.
We chatted for a short while having eaten light salads as we talked. Then without any further ado Mickie gets up, puts a $100 bill on the table and tells me to come with her.
We promptly march across the parking lot to the Inn Express, through the lobby and up the elevator. Once in the lift she turns to me getting up on tippy toes even though she’s already in heels and lays a lovers kiss on me like it’s the last kiss on the planet.
Once in the room, she just started to strip. Not a sexy strip or anything like that, no t even a cock teaser, just taking off clothes and throwing them on the chair next to where her purse landed. Now Jay bird naked she heads for her purse and pulls out a bottle of lubrication and lands on the bed on all fours.
