Back In The Game Ch. 01

It would be a lie to say I never had an Asian fetish, though in my defence it was the physical I admired, the skin, the eyes, the perky breasts and tight pussies.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. The point was, I was never into "Asians" for the stereotypical reasons. I had no interest in women who were entirely submissive, meek and mild, but willing to let me do whatever I wanted to them. Nor was I looking for a rubber-clad dominatrix to tell me I was bad and whip me into submission.

True, I wasn't not into those things, but then I was into a lot of things. And right now, I was into her.

Not in the literal sense, of course, though given the slightest opportunity I would have slipped into any of her holes that would have me. Christ, even the thought was getting me hard.

I took a deep breath and did another rep. It wouldn't do to have a bulge in my shorts right here and now. That sort of thing is generally considered against gym etiquette. I'm not sure if it is explicitly stated in the membership terms and conditions, but it is certainly not the done thing.

I closed my eyes and continued to lift the shoulder press. It was at the limit of my capabilities (admittedly, not that much) and it required all my attention. By the time I'd finished the fifth rep, my dick was as limp as my arms.

I reached down for my water bottle, but it was empty, so I walked over to the water fountain to fill it up.

As I did so, I noticed she had moved onto the free-weights. As a rule, I try not to stare at the gym, but god damn.

She was at the squat rack with a barbell across her shoulders, with a level of weights that belied her size. For a moment, I envisioned her doing one, getting stuck under the weight and me, ever the hero, rushing over to save our fair maiden in her moment of need. But there was none of that.

She dipped her body down to the ground and back up with perfect form. If anything, it was too light for her. I marvelled at her technical (and physical) prowess, until my hand went cold, snapping my attention back to the overflowing water bottle.

I walked across the room to get a piece of towel, making sure not to stare as I crossed the room. As I dried my hands I could see her ass in the mirror, perfectly formed and toned, in skin-tight yoga pants. I took a long drink of water and thought of how I would give anything to put any part of myself in there.

I went over to the triceps dip bar, which faced the far wall and proceeded to do the first set of ten reps. As I waited for my thirty-second rest period to finish, I casually glanced around the room. There were cardio-freaks and muscle-heads, the clinically obese and the frighteningly underweight. Running, rowing, pushing, pulling, lifting, holding. All trying to get that perfect body, or at least be less ashamed of the one they had.

Truth be told, I was somewhere in the middle. I wasn't overweight, but I could probably lose a few pounds. And whilst I was no power-lifter, I certainly had developed some muscle mass over the last couple of years. Still, there was always room for improvement. At the very least, I was keeping the years at bay. I was now in my mid-thirties and could no longer eat and drink whatever I liked without consequence. Now I had to earn it.

I spent another fifteen minutes earning whatever I had coming to me (or was I working off what I'd had before? I couldn't remember), then hit the showers.

The hot water soothed my tired muscles, and as I closed my eyes and let the water flow over me, I imagined her slipping in there with me. Her toned, tanned body, pushing up against me, fighting for space under the water, her hand gripping my rock-hard cock and slowly, almost agonisingly so, working it back and forth, until she dropped to her knees and took it in her --

The door slammed and I remembered where I was. Someone had finished dressing and left. I looked around and thankfully, I was alone. I quickly washed the soap off of my skin and ran to where my bag sat with my clothes, my dick, still solid, slapping my thighs as I went. I dried myself as quickly as I could, and slid on my jeans, doing a little jig to hide my throbbing self.

Just as I did so, a parade of men, evidently workout buddies, entered the locker room and completely took it over. I dried my hair, finished getting dressed, and got out of there.