Gym Girl

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Perfect girl took the money on a lark.
4.8k words
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Our local community center has an exercise gym, where I work out four times a week. Because I am self-employed, I can choose any time of day to go, and I've learned when the place is more or less empty, and I can use whatever machines I want at whatever moment I want.

This past Tuesday I arrived at such a time, and things were even more quiet than usual. There was only one clerk at the information counter, and I had never seen her before. I can say that with certainty, because one glance was enough to know I would not forget this girl any time soon. She was young, fit and well-shaped, but above all she was stunningly beautiful. There are lovely girls everywhere, and in fact they aren't uncommon at all – not that this fact reduces my appreciation. But every man has a certain set of characteristics that he prefers above all others, ones that elevate a beautiful woman to enthralling goddess status in his estimation. For me, these characteristics are long, very dark hair, dark eyes and lashes, and a pert little smile on her inviting lips, especially one that curls higher on one side than the other. But my particular list is not important, so long as you recognize the phenomenon of the woman who captivates you at a glance. For me, this was she.

I had no question to ask her, as I had been coming to this gym for several years and knew where to go, but I had to think of something quick. I wanted to hear her voice.

"Excuse me, miss..."

"Yes?"

"Er. Does...does this gym have personal trainers that can be hired?" Most gyms do, of course, but this was a community center, and it seemed like a reasonable question, given a few seconds to come up with something.

"Yeah, we do. Here's a description of what we can offer." She handed me a sheet of services and fees.

"What sorts of people are the trainers? Are they professional?" I didn't care about this at all. I knew what I was doing in the gym and didn't need any assistance. But the conversation gave me a chance to keep absorbing the sight of her, the flash of her eyes, the charm of how she stood there, the melted caramel of her voice.

"Well matter of fact, I'm one. I'm not a pro, but I took a few classes, and I'm cheap. Every little bit helps, know what I mean?"

"Sure. Is there a form I fill out?" She turned away and bent over to pull the form out of a drawer, and I knew I was in trouble. Her long hair slid around and over the front of her shoulder as she leaned over, but what really grabbed all of my attention was the sweetest, most beautifully curved ass I had ever seen, an absolute delight in training shorts, giving way to lean, shapely thighs. My absorption with this girl began to go beyond appreciation of beauty. I rapidly started to get the horn.

She turned back to the counter and leaned over to fill out the first couple of items on the form, her name, I guess, who cared what. As she did so, her breasts, neither large nor small, fell forward a bit, and I could see the curve of one inside the unbuttoned collar of her polo shirt.

"I tell you what," I said. "I have an idea. If I sign this agreement, you get a percentage of what I pay, right? And the center keeps most of it? What if we make a private arrangement, and you keep it all?"

"Well, if the center caught me in there working with you, and found out there was no signed form, I'd lose my job. I can't afford to risk that. I think we'd better stick to the standard arrangement."

I'd arrived at a moment of truth. I had no intention of paying anyone for physical training services. I could walk away and say I'd think about it. Or I could take a chance and ask for what I really wanted. I took a quick look around to either side of me. The place was like a school hall at midnight. There was not one soul in the main hall of the center, and I could see through the glass that there was no one in the gym either. There was a handball game going on in one of the courts down the corridor, but that wouldn't be a factor. There could be a manager somewhere behind doors. There was probably a camera somewhere above me.

"Look, um," I looked for a name tag. "Jasmine. I'm just going to lay it out there. I'm not really interested in a trainer." She assumed a mildly baffled look. Why was I wasting her time, then? I wasn't. "I have in mind a different arrangement. Here's $100. I'd like to get your help, but not in the gym."

"I can't come to your home, only here..."

"No, no, we'll do this here, that's fine, as long as there's a good spot to do it. What I want is," I took a breath, "I want to take your shirt off. And your pants."

Her mouth fell open and she took half a step backward. Before she could yell, laugh, or say anything, I quickly continued. "I just want, and I mean really, really want, to see you in your underwear. And I want to be the one who takes off the clothes to reveal it. For $100. It would take five minutes, and it would be the easiest $100 you ever made.

Her mouth finally shut again. And then, to my delight and gratefulness, one corner of her mouth curled up in a smile. "You're a filthy pig, you know that. How dare you come in here and say that to me."

I said, "OK, I'm sorry, I'll go, and don't worry, I won't bother you..." But I knew that that little bit of smile meant that I did not need to retreat. The game was on, and I had a decent chance of winning.

"Wait. It's boring as hell around here on this shift, and I've gotta say, this ain't boring. It's kind of scary, kind of disturbing. But it ain't boring."

I didn't say a thing. I just laid the $100 on top of the forgotten form. She looked at it, then up at me, and as she gazed into my eyes and tried to size me up for a prankster, a pervert, a dangerous menace or an adventurer, I was paralyzed with adoration of those seeking eyes. So I didn't see at first when she lifted a hand and slipped the bill down and away.

There we were. The deal was settled. I was going to strip this perfect goddess.

She turned and started to walk away, but looked back with that quirky smile, and a hand trailing behind, and I was clearly meant to follow. I would follow her into a buzz saw if she wanted; I'd sure as hell follow wherever she was going now. She came out from behind the counter while I made my way along the outer side, led me down the hall a bit, and with a key, opened a door that led into a towel laundry. She entered, waited for me to walk past her, and shut and locked the door. With the click of the lock, I had an inspiration.

"If $100 is worth getting, then $300 has got to be even better. How about this. For $100, I take off your shirt and shorts. But for $300, I get to touch everything I expose. Every little bit helps, you know."

Her grin took on a let's-be-serious attitude, and she shook her head a little. "Thanks for your generous offer, but I'll take the $100." Tucking the bill into her cleavage, she hesitated a moment, then took a step toward me and stopped just out of arm's reach. Even being the free spirit she must be, just to be here in this room with me, clearly she was far from fully comfortable. How could she be sure I wasn't a violent maniac? She was trusting her sense of me, based on two minutes of unorthodox chat.

I took a step forward too, and another. I reached out with my right hand, and took a gentle grip on the bottom edge of her shirt. But I looked into her dark, magical eyes. Ever so slightly, she cringed, then steeled herself, then found it in her somehow to give me that crooked grin. I was going to fall in love, right here among the sweaty towels and five gallon jugs of detergent.

Still looking into her eyes, smiling broadly now myself, I took hold of the edge of her shirt with both hands, and began to slide it up. Out of the lower extreme of my peripheral vision, I could see the lovely slope from her hips to her toned tummy, but I never looked away from her eyes for one moment.

And here, in the very first inning of the ballgame, I began to cheat. I let go of the shirt with my fingers but put the palms of my hands on her unclad sides, in such a way as to hold her shirt up where it was, scrunched up nearly to the underside of her bra. And I began to slide my hands upward, never taking my eyes away from hers. As the hands rose, I made them slide around the back, gliding over the bra strap and raising the shirt almost to the shoulders in back. In front, the shirt still flowed over her breasts and hung down a bit below them. I slid the hands around again to the front, and began to push upward, bunching the shirt up so that the bottom half of her delightful breasts, clad in comfortable white that offered little support, which was not needed anyway. I discovered this as I let my palms slide up the outer curves of the breasts, and my thumbs slide across the undersides.

Her eyes now began to narrow. She was about to say something, but I let go of the shirt entirely and let it fall back into its original place, and her expression calmed, though she now displayed a slight downturn in that delectable mouth.

Quickly I kneeled, and renewed my soft assault. I reached up and slid a hand inside each hip of her shorts. My left hand began to slide downward, slowly, so that every inch of hip and other treasures was going to be revealed at a pace allowing full appreciation. But my right hand took a bit different approach. It too slid into the shorts, but as it did, I hooked just my index finger inside the hidden panties as well, so that as I began that slow slide downward, the panties threatened to come along. I got them down about three inches, her sensible white cotton panties, and felt her soft skin with that sensitive fingertip, before a third hand came down and curtly pulled my hand out of there.

Now I hooked just the waistband with that hand, but the other was still inside her shorts, and the two of them began to draw those pants down. Not an inch was revealed that I did not inspect as closely as I could, every curve, every plane, every mesmerizing texture and shape. I'm sure she could feel hot breath on her hip, and then on the front of her upper thigh, then where her tummy disappeared into her panties, and then where her thigh met her panties, and then...as close as I was, I could easily discern that the front of her panties was not quite smooth, that there was a slight puffing up from under, and below that, just a hint of two nether lips, meant to be hidden away.

My left hand, shoving the shorts down, was sliding down her hip, and then down her thigh...and then, dammit, the shorts fell to the floor. The pants were off, which was great, but under our deal it meant we were halfway through. I took one more brief look at her shielded pubic area, then looked up to see her looking back down at me. Behind the deep dark waterfall of her long falling hair, I couldn't clearly see her eyes, but it looked like they might be glistening just a bit. Her mouth I could see, but it had an uninterpretable expression. Her lips were slightly open.

I stood again, and pushed her hair back behind her left ear. Her eyes glanced up at me and then away again. I put my hands on her tummy and began to push the shirt up once more, with my wrists, until my fingers touched the bottom of her bra – and then kept rising, my fingers riding up across the front of her breasts, and then with my hands fully upon the breasts, I pressed in, lightly. Of course, this had nothing to do with getting the shirt off, but I didn't care.

She spoke again, her voice cracking for just a moment and then a little higher in pitch than it had been. "As long as...as long as I'm going to be touched anyway...I'll take the $300."

I smiled as widely as I ever have in my life, and gave a little nod. I got out my wallet, took out two more bills, and started to reach them towards her. She raised a hand to grab them, but I pulled them back. Her hand lowered, I reached forward again with the bills, and I gently tucked them into her bra where their sibling already lay, so warm and snug and lucky.

"But only where my shirt and pants used to be." Sure. I'll be a good boy.

I wasted no further time getting her shirt off. And now my hands got busy. I ran one slowly from her ear down her jaw line to her chin. I caressed her perfect neck and throat. I embraced her, our necks and cheeks fitted together, in order to run both hands from her shoulders down her back and to the top of her panties, where I probed a bit of finger underneath, then withdrew. I glided just my fingertips along her tummy, around her navel, down to the front panty-line, and again, took just a bit of liberty there – and again, no particular reaction. But I thought maybe I heard a little more breath than I had before.

I knelt and stroked each calf, and squeezed them, and felt the beautiful toned firmness. And then her thighs – first touching, softly, running a finger along each delectable curve and surface, then tracing circles up and up her inner thigh, pressing slightly. My other arm was wrapped around her other thigh, and stroking with fingertips. It was absolute heaven. She was perfection.

Teasing the thighs closely like this meant that my face was just a few inches from her crotch. I did not have any scruples about staring. The edges of her panties framed a shape of hidden delight, a slight mound, a hint of lips, all in excruciatingly beautiful proportion to her hips and thighs. I took some deep breaths, and I was quite sure I detected the tell-tale scent of arousal.

I could have enjoyed these sensations all day. But I stood again. I wanted to keep moving, keep her guessing, letting little surprises turn her on. I slowly dragged a fingertip along her upper lip. She shuddered and smiled, then rubbed her lips. Her hand fell back again as I touched the outer top of each arm, and began to slowly slide my fingers down, stroking much as I had her thighs. Again she shuddered, and now her eyes closed. She was focusing on the pleasure. This was going so well. I ran each hand down each arm, and at the wrists, I put a thumb on the inner side and a forefinger on the outer side, and slid right down to the fingertips. Then I turned her palms upward and circled them with fingertips, gently, slowly. I knew the feeling in her was turning electric.

Back to her neck now I moved my wicked hands, stroking, and then in circles all over the area of chest between her neck and her cleavage – an area that needs a name of its own. And when that area had been gently caressed, I drew a line along every edge of her bra – down the straps, under the arm, under the cups, then down along her cleavage, stroking the exposed surfaces of her breasts, on each side.

And then I repeated that exact pathway around the bra, but this time, I slipped a fingertip just under, all the way around, touching breasts otherwise hidden, on all sides and around and around, into every little nook that was almost but not quite exposed.

Now I took another little step over the line. I had been pressing things so gradually that I hadn't alarmed her, and hadn't been stopped. But now I was going to take a chance that could startle her into calling a halt.

Closing a hand around each upper arm, I leaned in and kissed her neck, under the jaw, then under the ear, and then I kissed her ear and slipped a bit of tongue just barely inside. My chest was against hers, my hard cock pressing against her tummy. She remained quiet for a moment more, but rose up out of the place of pleasure she was in.

"OK now, wait, I know it sounds ridiculous to put my foot down when I've already consented to being molested, but I never agreed to be kissed anywhere. That's just too intimate."

And now I played my trump card, hoping desperately that it was good enough to win the trick.

"You agreed to be touched in all of these places. Nothing in the agreement specified what I would touch you with. My lips are part of me just as much as my fingers. To earn the money, you have to let me kiss you, wherever your shirt and pants used to be."

"My shirt was not up by my ears," she countered, but she had not really thought that through.

"OK, I'll stick to the rules," I promised again, and I lowered my mouth to her shoulders, and kissed her all along her collarbones, and down along her chest to her cleavage, where I not only kissed but began to open my mouth and take little "bites" with my lips. After a few delightful moments of this, I knelt and delivered the next telling blow. I began to kiss and lick my way up each inner thigh, alternating, and as I neared her panties she began to melt, to sag, so lost was she in the feeling of this. She began to fall back, and I had to stand and put my arms around her to keep her from falling down.

And standing there with my arms around her, looking into her staggeringly beautiful face, seeing that she was at war within herself between resistance and surrender, breathing open-mouthed, gorgeous eyes lidded, sweat along her upper lip, I could not help myself either now, and I bent down and kissed her passionately, leaving no doubt about how purely I worshipped her body and everything that I held in my fortunate arms. I kissed her at length, honestly and desperately, and she understood, and she didn't resist, and then she began to kiss me back.

This moment was the high point of my erotic life thus far. She was won over all the way. And all the way was where we were going to go.

As I kissed her I reached up and slid her bra straps down and then undid the hooks, and then slid my hands into the rear of her panties, and began to squeeze her perfect ass and press her into my rigid cock. I broke the kiss, finally, and noted her eyes closed, her mouth slightly open – and heard it whisper:

"Please."

I pulled the bra away (hundred dollar bills flying in several directions) and revealed her gorgeously proportioned breasts, and made love to each in turn, kissing, suckling, tenderly squeezing, then a bit more strongly as I sucked the eager nipples. She gasped and sighed and it was the sound of paradise approaching.

I disengaged for a moment. "There's one more part of me that I'd like to touch you with," I said, and I moved one of her hands to the top of my shorts. She bent over and slid down my pants, and I took hold of her breasts and squeezed them with her nipples pointing through between my fingers as she set my cock loose. I grabbed it and touched her cheek with it, and her neck, and ran the head of it around a breast, then one nipple. She used her hand to press it into the breast, and reached the other one under my balls and began to caress them. I look down at this gorgeous thing paying erotic attention to me, and knew it was a gift beyond price.

And then she kissed the head of my cock, licked underneath it, and stroked the shaft with her hand. She took three long licks all along the underside, and then put her lips to the tip and pressed, and took more and more of its length into her sweet warm mouth, while her fingertips made circles on the underside of my balls. I ran my hands through her beautiful hair, squeezed her shoulders, stroked the sides of her breasts.

It was glorious, delirious pleasure. It felt like what I existed for. And yet I stopped her. I was going to come a monster if she went on for another minute, and I didn't want to come, yet.

I pushed her gently away, and she looked up at me with a puzzled expression on her angelic face, and I smiled warmly back at her, and pulled back up to standing in front of me. I put my hands on either side of her neck and pulled her to my lips, and kissed her again, with complete devotion. But I was going to show her this in more ways to come.

I led her over to a chair and sat in it. Then I sat in my lap, side-saddle, and kissed her some more, while my hand caressed her outer thigh, and then slid a finger under the lower edge of her panties. It wiggled along from the hip towards the center, and then fell into a delicious valley between her pubic area and her upper thigh. It rested there just briefly, the back of it cradled against her warm, soft body, while I focused on bending to a breast and again loving it vigorously. But after a moment, the finger began to slide up and down, feeling the pubic hair that just barely reached out that far, and the soft, soft flesh of her pudenda. Then the finger got restless, and slid its back against her vulva, teasing her lips, up and down, while I continued to suckle a breast. She was gasping a little now, "oh oh oh," and I thought I might come just hearing that angel song.

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