“Dude, what are you looking at?” she asked.

I was flat on my back, and she was standing over me, looking down at me. I could very easily see straight up shorts to her shaved kitty. She was the personal trainer my wife and I had hired to come to our house and help us learn a new exercise regimen, so we could shed a few pounds before taking off on vacation to Puerto Vallarta.

I tried to pretend I was not really the pervert I really was. My wife was just outside the front door, working on lunges.

I quickly apologized, saying I was distracted. It was too little, too late. She knew it and I knew it.

“Do you need to get a drink of water and cool off a bit?” she asked as she peered down at me, taking a step backwards.

I quickly made my way to the kitchen and grabbed a cup and stuck it under the faucet. As the water filled the cup, I felt a hand on my butt.

“We’re going to have to work really hard if we are going to be successful,” Sandra said as she openly dug her hand into my butt cheeks.

I quickly spun around, spilling water all over the place and slinging a few drops towards Sandra.

“Hey now,” I exclaimed as she withdrew her and tried to dodge the water spillage.

Sandra was thirty and she had a great body, a body that any guy would probably do anything to lay claim to. I could see Sandra make a quick glance towards my crotch as she readjusted where she stood, taking a step back. There was no way I could hide my obvious excitement.

“You need to be careful,” I whispered. “Tammy is right outside.”

Tammy was my wife of fifteen years. Three kids and a lot of tacos had taken their toll on her physique. There was no way she would be in top physical shape and 25 pounds lighter in two weeks, but she was adamant that we try. She found Sandra on the internet and they hit if off right away over coffee. Tammy insisted that I also participate in the workouts as a way to keep her motivated. I really wasn’t interested in working out, but then, after meeting Sandra, I decided to give it a try.

Sandra looked surprised at my warning.

“You know,” I continued, “You should also wear some panties when you wear those types of shorts.”

Sandra blushed about four shades of red, before responding.

“You shouldn’t be peeking,” Sandra replied.

“I wasn’t peeking,” I replied. “It was right in front of me. How do I ignore it?”

“Well, I don’t feel comfortable in panties when I am working out or working out with others,” Sandra replied.

I chuckled.

“And am I supposed to just ignore the obvious?” I asked.

“Yes,” Sandra replied rather smartly and matter-of-factly.

“That might be a little hard,” I replied.

“I noticed,” Sandra quickly shot back, her eyes once again darting towards my crotch.

“Behave,” I teasingly replied. “We don’t want my better half thinking something is going on.”

Sandra chuckled.

“No, we wouldn’t, would we?” she replied. Sandra tease and her responses made my head spin. She obviously knew what she was doing and she didn’t seem terribly upset when I admitted to taking a sneak peek at her goods.

The rest of the workout was tough. I had to work through settling down the obvious and then we got down to some serious floor exercises. I was doing squats and pushups and all other sorts of things, as Sandra started working with Tammy. I kept a good eye on Sandra as I worked out.

Every so often, she would redirect me and say, “Focus!”

I was focusing, just not on exercising. After about an hour of strenuous workout, we wound things down with some lunges and then some stretches. We agreed to meet again the next week. Tammy said she was heading for the shower. I told her I’d help Sandra out to her car with her exercise equipment.

I grabbed Sandra’s exercise bag as she grabbed the bouncy ball she had brought for the class and we headed out the front door to her car. She popped open her trunk and I set the exercise bag in it as she placed the giant exercise ball in the back seat to her car. It was a tight fit and she struggled to get it into the small space behind the front row of seat. I stepped up behind her and gently placed my open palm on her buttocks.

She turned with a shocked look on her face like I had somehow offended her.

“Let me,” I instructed, gently using my other hand to move her to the side.

I pushed the ball into the back seat as she stood and watched.

“That’s how you handle the ball,” I said.

Sandra laughed.

“I always have issues handling those balls - I mean, exercise balls,” Sandra said, quickly appending her remark.

I laughed at her obvious faux pas.

“You’re funny,” I replied.

Sandra bit down on her lower lip.

“You know,” Sandra began, as she looked over my shoulder and towards the front door to our house, “Rick works during the day and if you want to drop by - say tomorrow or the next day, we could do some one-on-one workouts for a little bit, just the two of us.”

It was clearly obvious that her invitation was not one meant to help me with my workout regimen.

“We have a workout room in the house and I can show you some special exercises that will help you,” Sandra intoned, placing an emphasis on the word special. “Eleven o’clock either day is okay.”

I had no idea where Sandra lived.

“I’ll text you the address,” she said. “Just text me back and let me know which day works best for you.”

I was ecstatic. Sandra was a cutie and she had a hot little body. My mind was a whirl with the potential for hooking up with her. She texted me the address and I replied, “Wednesday.”

“Looking forward to it,” she texted back.

I made arrangements at work to get off for an extended lunch period on the day of our scheduled meetup. I texted Sandra on the day of our scheduled meet up and told her I was on my way and that I’d be there a few minutes after eleven.

I knocked on her front door. Within seconds, Sandra opened the door and invited me in.

“Where is your workout stuff?” she inquired, as she took note of my work attire and empty hands.

Whoops. I had forgotten all about the workout gear.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sandra quickly replied, taking hold of my hand and pulling me into a small workout room just off the lobby to her house. The room had wood floors, handrails and mirrors on all the walls, a set of weights on one side and the bouncy balls positioned in the corner.

“I guess you could show me some things to do with the balls,” I remarked as we stepped into the room.

“I bet you’d like that,” Sandra suggestively intoned, as she pulled a hair band from her pinned up hair.

“You tell me,” I said. “You’re the expert on balls.”

“Yes, I am,” Sandra suggestively replied, pushing her long blonde hair back over her soft shoulders. She sported a sports bra that easily showed off her cleavage and her workout shorts, which showed off her best asset: her tight little butt.

Sandra laughed. I took note of the mirrored walls.

“I like the mirrors,” I remarked.

“It helps to see what you’re doing,” Sandra noted.

“The only thing missing,” I noted, “is a ceiling mirror.”

“That’s in the bedroom,” Sandra intoned.

That was all it took. I grabbed her left hand and pulled her down the hallway.

“Show me,” I said.

“Really?” she asked as I pulled her down the short hallway to where I suspected the master bedroom to be.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Take a left at the end of the hall,” she instructed as I peered into each doorway.

We slipped into the master bedroom. I stopped and stared at the ceiling-mounted mirror, as Sandra launched herself on to the freshly made bed, landing on her stomach. She quickly rolled on to her back and patted the space beside on her on the bed.

“Come on,” she beckoned. “Check it out.”

I slipped out of my shoes and on to the bed beside her. I stared up at our reflection in the mirror.

“I bet Rick loves it,” I said.

“Actually,” Sandra replied, “He hates it. He always insists on doing it in the dark.”

“Kind of defeats the purpose of having the ceiling-mounted mirror,” I replied.

“Not really,” Sandra replied. “I like it when I am alone and in the mood.”

I chuckled.

“I bet you’re always in the mood,” I said.

Sandra launched herself on top of me, straddling me, and then she settled down on to my lap. She peered down at me.

“Don’t you freaking dare look surprised!” she exhorted. “You’ve been ogling me for weeks.”

Sandra stripped out of her sports bra and tossed it towards the headboard. Her breasts were a perfect-sized set of 38 c-cup “man-mades”, with bolt-on nipple set in small dark areolas that were rock hard to the touch. She pushed my shirt upwards. I silently extended my arms, allowing her to strip me of my polo shirt. She leaned forward and kissed each of my nipples, running her wicked little tongue around them before raking her manicured fingernails across my bare chest.

I took in a deep breath and forcefully exhaled. There was denying the lust or the uncontrollable passion that had built up between us. We rumbled around in the bed, stripping each other and doing unspeakable things.

Sandra had a body that was designed for pleasure. She spread her legs and welcomed me with a sense of passion, unlike anything I had ever experienced. It was an unbelievable experience. As we both lie totally exhausted and staring up at our reflections in the mirror, I remarked that this would be hard to top.

Sandra chuckled.

“You should meet my sister-in-law,” Sandra replied. “She is my personal trainer. I think you’d like her more than me.”

I laughed.

“You’d be a tough act to beat,” I replied.

Sandra rolled on to her stomach and reached across the sheets for her phone that lay on the nightstand. She picked it up and scrolled through the photos, stopping on one and then turning the phone in my direction.

I peered at a photo that looked like something that should probably be in a men’s magazine.

“Holy Moly!” I exclaimed upon seeing the photo, which showed both Sandra and her sister-in-law, Rebekka, in a very compromising position, hands covering each other’s bare breasts.

“Would you like for me to hook you up?” Sandra asked.

“Are you two bi-sexual?” I asked.

“Sometimes,” Sandra replied, “She more than I. I just play along.”

I studied the photo, my mind swirling.

“It’s your call,” Sandra replied. “Do you think you could handle the two of us?”

Damn. Did she just say, “the two of us”? Like the plural form? I had never cheated on my wife and now I was being offered the dream of a lifetime - to have a three-way with two very hot chicks. I had to pinch myself.

“Does your husband know about this?” I pressed.

“Oh, hell no,” Sandra replied as she flipped through her call directory. “Are you kidding me? As far as he knows, we’re the straight-laced church going All-American Family.”

I could hear the muffled sound of the phone ringing.

“Hey Bekka,” Sandra said into the phone in response to the “Hello” on the muffled other end of the line. “Whatcha doing?”

I could hear the muffled voice reply but couldn’t make out what was said.

“OK,” Sandra replied, “Come on over… and don’t wear any panties.”

Sandra chuckled as she hung up the phone.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Sandra implored, as she rolled back on to her back and stared up at our reflection in the ceiling mounted mirror. “You’re going to like this girl!”