Personal Training Ch. 02

I stopped by the gym to pick up my first check and get my work clothes from my locker to get them to the laundry. Opening the envelope, I made sure everything was correct on it. Yep, my name, Abel Williams, was spelled correctly. The social security number was right too. The tiny amount of money? Well, I'll get that changed soon enough. But as I tried to leave, I found myself in the thick of dealing with client questions. It was my day off, but I couldn't ignore the regulars, the ones I hope to develop into repeat clients. I was beginning to develop a reputation as a good personal trainer and I hoped to improve it. The gym gave me a draw against commission, but I needed to pump up sales of my services and exceed my draw. In my last relationship she earned more than I did, and I lived more comfortably than I normally would. But the affair was in the dumpster and I was out on my own. Every time I thought of it, my gut clenched. It wasn't fair.

But then again, life wasn't fair.

A couple of women, Jill and Terry, waved me over. They were in their late twenties, and in reasonably good shape. But neither woman was my type. I liked my women older, much older. So I smiled and laughed as Jill and Terry chatted excitedly. Jill touched my arm every few seconds, as I showed them how to set the weights and work the machine. I had to squat to do that, and when I looked up I noticed her eyes on me.

Immediately, her head snapped up to look at the television screens. I lowered my head and smiled. There, that was my type, older, confident, and savvy. Older women weren't clingy like younger women, and when you wanted to do something with the guys or by yourself, they were fine with it. And I learned things too. My last girlfriend was an investment banker. From her I learned the value of saving, and building a good portfolio. That portfolio was what saved me when I was out on my ass.

This one, I didn't know what she could teach me, but her eyes smoldered with a need I recognized very well. That was another thing I like about older women, their experience and lack of inhibitions in the bedroom.

Oh, she was a cool one, this woman. She set her gaze to the bicycle readouts in front of her, and I realized she must have her smart phone set on the little ledge under the readouts. Her finger flicked every few seconds to the screen indicating she was reading from her book app. She read quickly. I learned long ago the smartest ones speed read. You didn't get through college without being able to do that. The required reading in my night courses at the local community college is giving me a bit of trouble, so I know how difficult that is to master.

I made quick goodbyes to Jill and Terry, ignoring their disappointed looks and sauntered over to the next machine occupied by another regular, Marco. I picked up a conversation with him and gave him a couple quick tips on how much weight and the number of reps he should use. The mirrors hung on the gym walls showed Miz Cool on her bike. She was definitely checking me out, her eyes lingering on my butt. Good.

Without her knowing, I was able to check her out too. Her wide green eyes, the first thing I noticed, were a bit mysterious, as if she kept many secrets. My eyes wandered down to her breasts, round mounds of cleavage pushing up through the v-neck of her tee shirt. For a moment I imagined burying my face in those luscious tits. I felt my cock stir from the images in my mind, so I had to shut those down. No, I had to keep those thoughts in check unless I wanted to embarrass myself in front of my potential clients.

Now I had no motivation to leave, and every reason to stay. But what excuse would I used to talk to her? There was no telling how long she'd sit on that bike. The best way to start a conversation was when a woman started on a different piece of equipment. I wandered to the weights area, and talked to a few guys there. One of them, Arnold, was interested in some training appointments, so for a few minutes I was into that conversation. When we agreed on the first appointment I looked into the mirror in front of me to find Miz Cool was no longer on the bike.

Damn! I missed my opportunity. I scanned the mirrors quickly to see she settled on a treadmill. Wondering if I could salvage the opportunity, I moved to a door marked "employees only" and moved up the service corridor to the opposite end of the gym. I came out the hidden door there, in back of her in the treadmill area. The first thing I noticed was her ass. The cheeks were full and round. I licked my lips. I noticed, though, she was not moving very fast and I studied this. Then I saw what the problem was. She was limping slightly, the left leg moving more slowly than the right. Oh, the treadmill hid that somewhat, but my practiced eye knew something was not quite right. It looked like she really did need a personal trainer.

She was fully into her treadmill routine now, so I lost that opportunity as well. Scrambling, I had one chance left. I walked down the aisle to the men's locker area, and throwing on my sweats and jacket, over my shorts and tank grabbed my gym bag. I walked back out the floor, relieved to see she was still on the treadmill. I saw another potential client, Marty, on a treadmill opposite Miz Cool's. Marty was five months pregnant but concerned about keeping her figure after the baby arrived. Smiling, I walked up to Marty and asked her a few questions about her pregnancy. While I did so I watched Miz Cool from the large mirror. She stole a few glances at me, but nothing too long. Did I misinterpret what I saw in her eyes, or was she just shy? I decided to find out. Marty asked me a question, and I had to take my eyes off the mirror. When the conversation finally ended, I turned around and saw Miz Cool wasn't on the treadmill anymore.

No! Not again. I took a few steps and saw her heading for the door. I followed, not sure what I was going to do now. Who knew what her schedule was or if it matched my hours at the gym? I certainly didn't see her in my first two weeks there, and only saw her coming here on my day off. She got into her car, and I hurried to my own. Swinging out the parking lot, I was right in back of her. Her car turned left, the way I was going to go anyway. A couple blocks down the road, she signaled a left turn, onto a residential street. Even though it wasn't the way I needed to go, I made the turn too. Her car sped up the road, going faster, and I sped up too. "This is crazy," I thought. "She's going to think I'm some sort of nutty stalker."

Ahead was a stop light and her car pulled to the left. I pulled my car to right and glanced over at her. She looked me in the eyes, a steady even gaze. For some reason, I shivered. Then the light changed. I pulled away, turning too sharply and moving a bit too fast.

When I came up the intersection, I realized where I was. This was the street I would take home. My usual route was a half-mile down further the main road before I took a left. So, she taught me a little shortcut. But I was far too worked up to go home. When I came to my turn-off I continued straight down the road for several miles. I couldn't get the look of those green eyes from my thoughts, and my cock, that bastard, pushed against my shorts, reminding me of that. I was a little pissed now. Things didn't work out like I planned. I was horny and had no good way, except jacking off, to take care of that.

Up ahead was an intersection flanked at all corners by shopping centers. On the right hand side there was a sign of a sports bars. Why not? I parked and sat a few minutes getting myself together, thinking over the stats of last couple of Yankees games before I could walk in.

It was the usual kind of place, all wood paneling with a long bar against the furthest wall. A couple of pool tables stood to the left, booths under the windows and small tables between the booth and the bar. I sat at the bar, shedding my jacket, and ordered a beer, looking up at the television screen at the latest baseball game. The bartender filled my order and I sat for a while sipping my beer. Eventually there was a movement at my left elbow.

"You like baseball?"

She was blonde and petite, small pert tits under her tee shirt. From the way her nipples poked out, she was not wearing a bra. Not my type, but then again, beggars can't be choosers.

"Sometimes," I said, smiling.

"Cindy."

"Abel. Want a beer?"

"Sure. Nice tats."

"Thanks. Nice tits."

She blushed, but smiled anyway. Her beer came and we chatted, flirting really. Another beer and my hand touched her inner thigh, stroking it lightly with my fingertips. Her face flushed, but she didn't stop me. The inner thigh was always a sensitive place for women, and as long as I didn't push things too far, too fast, things would progress nicely. Another beer and she whispered into my ear an invitation to her place.

It was a small high rise next to the shopping center, so we walked there. I put my arm around her waist, and kissed the back of her neck. She picked up the pace and we got to the building and went into the elevator. I pressed myself against her there, kissing her, my tongue demanding hers. The door to elevator opened and it almost shut on us, before we broke away and she led me to the apartment. When her door shut, the real fun began.

She asked me if I wanted a drink and started toward the direction of the kitchen. "No," I said, and spun her around. I kissed her, diving my tongue in her mouth, and grabbed her ass. Pressing her to me tight, my hard cock rubbed against her through my clothes. Grabbing her tee shirt from the back and pushing her back a bit, I pulled the shirt over her head in one jerk, and tossed it. Descending on her naked tits, I sucked her nipples, one at a time, and she made little noises. I backed her into her bedroom, my tongue sliding up, down and around her nipples. I shut the door. But I had no intention of using the bed.

I turned her around again, and pressed her against the door, this time my tongue going up and down her spine. She moaned. I pulled her hips toward me, so she leaned forward. I kicked the inside of her ankles lightly. "Spread 'em," I said.

She hesitated.

I leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Do you want me to stop? If you do, I'll just leave."

She shook her head.

"Spread 'em," I ordered.

She spread her legs out wider, and I pulled down my sweats, my cock jutting forward. I pressed my cock against her crack, rubbing my shaft up and down between her cheeks.

"No," she said.

I pulled back. "No?"

"Not without a rubber."

"No problem."

I took a condom from the wallet in my sweats and got it out and on. That done I reached around with my right hand and pulled on her pubis, bringing her toward me. My fingers rubbed her clit, light strokes at first, and then harder as she leaned her body into mine. She threw her head back. "Ah," she moaned and she put her hands on the door to steady herself.

With my other hand, I guided my cock to her slit. It was dripping wet, ready for me. I pushed in, her tight cunt surrounding me. She whimpered a little, but that only encouraged me. I started pumping, pushing farther and harder with each stroke. She cried out and her pussy pulsed around my cock. But it wasn't enough, damn it. My mind flooded with the thought of those green eyes, and an ass more deliciously wider than this, pounding her harder with each stroke until my cock exploded. I held her tight to me until my cock softened and I caught my breath. I turned Cindy around, and gave her a kiss.

"Darling, that was wonderful," I said and gave her a little hug. I went into the bathroom on the right and did a quick clean up.

"Damn," she said after me. "I'll be sore for a week."

I went back to her and gave her another kiss.

"I'll call you in a week then."

She looked a little dazed and nodded her head. She probably didn't realize I didn't have her number until well after I left.