Friday Nights at the Gym

It had been my gym for months, and I'd attended semi-regularly over that time. A month would go by where I made it four times a week, and then another I'd only manage once or twice. Strangely, I always made it on Friday nights. Even when I was feeling rotten and exhausted from the rest of my week, some stubborn part of me always managed to get my feet through the door on Friday night, usually walking in at half-past seven, and then out again around nine.

I think the pool was a big part of that. I wasn't much of a cardio lover, but I really loved swimming. My warm down was always a few laps in the water, cooling everything down. The water had a way of making me feel as though my whole body was being looked after, coaxing my muscles into recovery.

And in and amongst all of this was that woman. She always walked in a little after me, wearing office clothes, and she always emerged from the change rooms wearing a baggy graphic t-shirt that hung down past her waist. At first I noticed her in the way you noticed anything regular about your surroundings -- 'they've moved the squat racks again' or 'how long has that tile been loose?' -- but then I committed the cardinal sin. I made eye contact.

Not intentionally, I was just looking around between sets on a cable machine, but she just happened to be coming out of the women's change room, her chestnut hair put up in a ponytail, and the motion caught my attention. I turned my head and found myself looking straight into her eyes.

I immediately looked away, trying to make it seem like I hadn't even noticed her. If I'd pulled it off, the illusion was dispelled when I grabbed at the bar, pulled and my hand slipped, letting the weights come down with an obnoxiously loud clang. I closed my eyes and grimaced, and when I opened them again, she had moved on.

A few Fridays went by, long hot days shifted to shorter rainy ones. The gym always felt less crowded during Autumn, I'm not sure why. My routine didn't change: stretching, weights, swimming.

I had another run in with the woman in the baggy t-shirt. Just a simple thing, asking me if I was using a cable attachment nearby. When I looked it was sitting by the machine behind me, very clearly not being used by me. I just shrugged, offered a polite smile and said I wasn't. The smile she returned seemed brighter than necessary, and she lingered a moment after saying thank you. I shrugged it off. I had enough problems without developing a one-sided fixation on some person from the gym. I finished up and had my warm-down swim and enjoyed having the pool entirely to myself. Nobody else seemed to like swimming when it was cold and raining outside.

But the following Friday she approached me again. I was wiping down the chest-press bench, and she asked if I was finished. She asked if I would spot her, she wanted to go to a higher weight but didn't want to be unsafe. I shrugged and said I was happy to. She did her sets -- at a weight not far from my own preference -- and then thanked me.

Offhandedly, I said, "Let me know if you want help with anything else."

She smiled up from the bench, her face flushed, and said, "Oh, I will!"

That was the first Friday that she invaded the pool. I had just done my first lap when I saw her walk in with her gym bag. She took off her shoes and socks, tucking them away in the bag, then slipped off her oversized shirt. I saw a flash of a lean, toned torso, then dove under the water to finish my laps. The rest of the time I could feel her presence burning on the edge of my perception.

She joined me in the pool two more Fridays in a row.

On the third, the gym was virtually empty. A storm had been raging for two days, flooding some parts of the area. But I made it in, and so did she. This time, through my whole workout, I felt like I was being watched, and I swear I did catch her looking my way once or twice. When I went to the pool, she was already there, and asked if I would watch her bag while she ducked into the bathroom. I didn't see the necessity, since there were virtually no other people, but I said okay. She came back a few minutes later, and she had a strange look on her face. She thanked me for watching her bag, then after a moment of hesitation, she asked if I could check something for her. Something looked broken, she said.

I followed, hyper-aware of how gross and sweaty I was feeling, desperate to go for my relaxing swim. I hesitated at the door to the women's bathroom, but she said it was fine, no one else was in there, and it would only take a minute. I went in, and she took a moment before following. I turned around to see her pulling a doorstop from her gym bag and pushing it under the door.

"What are you doing?"

She straightened and grinned over at me, "Trusting my gut."

She dropped her bag on the floor, then seemed to hesitate.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

She laughed, "Maybe? I feel... a little crazy. Do you ever get that way?"

I smiled nervously. "I'm a little freaked out. Is something about to happen to me."

She looked down, then back up at me. "Only if you want it to."

She stepped over to me, then reached out and touched my shoulders with her fingertips, almost as though she were testing to see if I was real.

I swallowed.

"Are you okay?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

I nodded.

"Should I stop?"

After a moment, I shook my head.

Her lips twitched into an excited half-smile, then she leaned forward and kissed me. Despite everything leading up to it, I was taken by surprise. Her lips were warm, and not as soft as I'd anticipated, and she kissed with a kind of hunger. She moaned a little into my mouth, and I felt myself responding. My hands moved down to her hips, and I kissed her back. My cock started to push against my very thin shorts, and a part of me felt embarrassed until her hand started rubbing it through the fabric. Now it was my turn to moan.

Finally, the kiss broke, and she pulled back, looking up at me with flushed cheeks. "Last chance to run."

I pushed her against the long sink, grinding against her as my hands roved over her warm, sweaty body as she did the same, lifting one leg and hooking it over my hip. We kissed like that for a long time, tasting each other's tongues while pushing against each other through our clothes. Eventually it wasn't enough, and at the same moment we broke apart to start pulling clothes off. I pulled off her baggy shirt and finally let myself look at her properly. She had a modest bust, that I immediately covered with kisses and playful bites, and a toned stomach. Her physique made me feel instantly self-conscious about my own, which was nowhere near at the same level. But if she had any reservations about what she found beneath my shirt, she didn't make them apparent as she ran her fingers up my chest, curling through the dark hair, and ran her hand up my side. She leaned forward and kissed a trail from my stomach to my collarbone, then down to one of my nipples where she bit me just hard enough to get a grunt of pain from me. She grinned up at me -- when had her sports bra come off, I didn't remember doing that?? -- then dropped to her knees, yanking my shorts and underwear down. Before I could say anything, my cock was disappearing down her throat, and I was leaning over the sink, eyes closed in rapturous pleasure. It was the sloppiest head I think I'd ever received, and when I ventured a look down at her I saw drool dangling from her chin and running down between her breasts.

"Oh fuck!" I gasped.

Her eyes met mine, and her lips smiled around my cock. I almost came right in that moment, but it was like she knew how my body was feeling better than I did myself, pulling back just enough to keep me from cumming too soon. At some point she turned me around so I was leaning back against the sink. She had one arm wrapped around my thigh, like she was hugging me, pulling me closer as she fucked me with her throat. On instinct, I reached down and grabbed her ponytail in my hand, and she let out a squeal before redoubling her efforts, bobbing her head up and down even faster, slowing down only to push herself all the way down my shaft, touching her nose to my stomach, before retracting to reveal my shaft coated in spit. The third time she did this, she looked up at me and said, "I hope you like a mess?"

In response I pushed her onto her back, yanked her shorts down and spread her legs. Her hand was instantly in my hair, pulling me forward. I had intended to tease her, but clearly that wasn't on her agenda, so I dove straight in. Her sweat was intoxicating, and her pussy was hot velvet under my tongue. She hooked a thigh over the back of my neck and bucked up into my mouth as I started out running the flat of my tongue up between her lips.

"My clit," she hissed, "Suck on my clit!"

Her hard nub radiated with heat on the tip of my tongue as I teased it, licking around and just beneath. She let out a yelp and her hand became a fist in my hair, and I took her clit into my mouth, sucking hard. I heard her other slap against the tiled floor, and her high yelps became low grunts. At some point she seemed to lock up, trembling underneath me, and didn't make a sound, before her whole body suddenly relaxed and she growled, "Fuuuck me."

I was about to make a suggestive reply when I was suddenly rolled onto my back, her thighs straddling my head. She was looking down at me with dark eyes, grinding her pussy on my mouth. She made a show of licking her hand, then reaching back and stroking my cock while she continued to ride my face. I wrapped my arms around her thighs, burying my fingers into her soft skin, and put my tongue to work, determined to make her cum again. After a little while, I felt her tensing again. She suddenly lurched forward, letting go of my cock and grabbing my head with both hands. Her thighs squeezed and she fucked my mouth as she came again. Once again she seemed to go completely rigid as her orgasm took hold, her mouth open in a silent scream, before she went slack. I tried to playfully lick at her still twitching clit, and she jumped and smacked my forehead, "Fuck off!" She fell sideways off of me and I was left panting on the floor, my face covered in her pussy juices. She crawled on her hands and knees into a shower stall. From the floor, she reached up and flicked the tap, and water started streaming down. She turned and leaned against the wall, and when I turned to look at her, she beckoned me forward with a finger, saying, "You better get over here and fuck me brainless."

I crawled in after her, slipping under the shower spray. I kissed her, then grabbed her and pulled her forward, putting her on her hands and knees.

"Yesss," she crooned. "Don't stop for anything. You have no idea how bad I need this. Fill me the fuck up!"

I pushed my cock into her pussy, and immediately felt like my brain was being hijacked. All other concerns went out the window, and all I was left with was the desire to fuck this woman like an animal and leave her in a pile. My hips slapped into her ass, the sounds echoing off the tiles, and at times we'd both be quiet, both grunting and swearing, or one silent and the other muttering the nastiest words I'd ever heard to each other. At one point I grabbed her hair and pulled hard, and she reared back on her knees. I wrapped a hand around her throat and used the other to finger her clit and she had another of her hard, silent orgasms. I felt her pussy bearing down on me with an intensity that would have frightened me if the only thing I was capable of thinking of wasn'tFUCK. HER.

The end was inevitable when she stopped saying any intelligible words and just started growling. They were low, feral growls that could almost been mistaken for pain, but by this point she was throwing herself back against me with so much ferocity it was everything I could do to keep from being knocked over. Eventually my only option was to grab her hips and fuck her back as hard as I could.

When I finally came, I felt as though every ounce of my physical self was pouring inside of her. I was buried to the hilt, being swallowed up by her and letting out a long, low moan while she growled in primal harmony. Through it all she managed to utter a guttural, "Fill. Me. Bastard!"

And then we were spent. Slumped in a mess on the floor of the shower stall, breathing heavily and gazing into empty air. Eventually she sat up and moved next to me, resting her head on my shoulder. I put my arm around her, and I think we might have even dozed off under the shower...