Fade to Blink - A Quantum Date Ch. 04

Early-September 32

"You have any sweat clothes here?" Jimmie asked, closing the front door.

I was already undressed, heading to the bathroom. "Ummm...maybe? Why?" I turned in and sat on the toilet. I had really had to pee.

"We're going to start you working out," he said, passing by into the bedroom. "Might as well be today. Before we eat."

I could see him at the drawers, looking for his own exercise outfit, stripping off his clothes. I wasn't ready to do exercise. I was tired. I wiped and flushed, washed my hands and stared at my face, wondering how I'd become this person. The face staring back at me looked the same, mostly. Maybe a wrinkle in my forehead that hadn't been there, maybe my mouth a little more downturned. I was tired. "Where?" I turned into the bedroom to look for something to wear.

"Here," he waved vaguely toward the floor, my eyes drawn to his pubic hair and cock, just before he pulled his shorts up. "In the complex."

I sighed, finding my sweatpants and a t-shirt, looking for my sports bra.

"I'll meet you at the door when you're ready."

"Remind me," I shouted across the apartment, "why we're exercising?" I actually had been missing my workouts since we'd gotten into our lives together. I had gained a few pounds, but more concerning, was feeling like a maggot: my muscles had lost some tone, and my anxiety seemed less controlled.

"If we're going to do this thing, we're both going to need to be a lot stronger."

I'm not sure I heard him exactly, his voice muffled from the kitchen, but I finished dressing and joined him in the living room. By then I'd moved on and was too tired to care.

"Water bottle," he handed me one, "and they have towels there."

Down two flights of stairs and down a long hall to a part of the complex I hadn't been in. A small workout gym with equipment, changing rooms, and an entrance to a swimming pool. "Jimmie," I said quietly, even though we were alone, "I had no idea there was a swimming pool here!" I actually liked swimming.

He smiled and shrugged, bringing me into a kiss. "I, hmmm, I never really got into swimming."

"I love it," I said, looking through the glass door. "I'd definitely be down for swimming." I looked back at him. "What are the hours?"

He shrugged and checked his screen. "24 hours." He turned back to the gym. "Let's get started for now in here, and later on, maybe after dinner, we can come down for a swim."

The gym was well appointed: ellipticals, stairs, two treadmills, two complex weight systems, and a set of free weights. Along the swimming pool wall were mirrors, along the back wall, floor to ceiling windows looking out onto the complex's grounds.

"You know how to use this stuff...?" he waved at the weight machines.

Several looked familiar, a couple I'd never seen before. "Most of it." I glanced back at him and moved to one of the treadmills. "So why isn't this, like, swarming with people?" I looked over at him as he started his own machine up.

"Dunno. I haven't been down here for months. But, I suspect it's just the time of day." He shrugged and focused on his rhythm and breathing.

I'm no exercise buff, but I do like to move my body. It helps get me out of my head, and, when you're working out, even in a room full of people, you are expected to focus on yourself; you're excused from interacting. That's not to say people aren't checking each other out, or even posturing. It's gotten so obvious in some of the gyms I've been in that even I notice it. But even then I can ignore it.

We were twenty minutes into the programmed sequence, and my mind drifted, surprised for a moment that I was still fully dressed, that I didn't have a tail or collar on, and that we were just a couple, working out at the gym. I felt the tension easing from my muscles, and with it, the tension from keeping a secret from Jimmie. Even though I was still angry, I was mostly relieved: I hate keeping secrets. Keeping everything straight with Hodgson and Marybeth had been stressful enough. Knowing Jimmie knew, and knowing he wasn't responsible for this whole mess...well, he isn't completely innocent...The thought pricked my anger at Marybeth, or Hodgson or Johnstone...it didn't matter who...but look at what you and Jimmie have gotten out of it!

I grunted. Maybe. Maybe we wouldn't have gotten together if Marybeth hadn't set us up, or maybe we would have anyway. And maybe I'd be his horny bitch in heat without whatever the fuck is going on in the freezers. Because face it, Annie, you're deep into it, and that's nobody's doing but yours. I sighed, pushing into the final cycle, letting my blood pump the thoughts away.

*-*-*-*

"Hey," he said, holding out my water bottle to me. "I think that's enough for the day. It's a good start and I don't want you getting hurt."

I looked up at him from the bench I'd been lying on, the weights lowered. I was soaked: my bra showing through my shirt, my sweatpants stained between my legs. "I'm okay, Jimmie." I took the bottle and swigged. "I'm pretty into this stuff." I waved it around the room, still wondering why we were the only ones here. "It's only because of what we've been doing that I haven't been exercising as much as usual."

He smiled and nodded slightly, his eyes burning into me. I could tell he was going to go somewhere I wasn't interested in going. "Don't even think about whatever you're thinking, Jimmie. Not here. I'll tap out before you can even finish the sentence."

His expression changed: eyebrows raised, smile thinner but still there. 'Innocence' was the best I could figure. Yeah, right. But I enjoyed the shift in our relationship since our fight. We'd found a line and he respected it.

"Let's get cleaned up." He nodded vaguely toward the changing rooms, grabbing a couple of towels along the way.

"Uhhhm, why?" I let him help me off the bench, picking up my water bottle.

"Because we're a mess...I mean, right?" He pointed to the silhouette of my bra and the stain between my legs.

"For fuck's sake, Jimmie. Seriously? I mean, 'why get cleaned up here?' Why not just go upstairs." I wiped my face with a towel, following him to the doors.

"C'mon in. Just trust me."

We walked into a small changing room, lockers along one wall, a toilet compartment and sink along another, and a shower room at the far end. Jimmie opened a locker and shoved his water bottle and shirt inside, before slipping off his shorts and hanging them on a hook.

"Really?" I looked back at the door. A sign read 'Gender neutral facility. Report all harassment to management.'

"C'mon! You're not getting shy on me here, are you? It's a locker room. You get undressed in a locker room, right?"

I raised my eyebrows. Sure. When I'm with women. But...I was going to respond but he just walked past me to the toilet, not bothering to close the stall, the sound of his stream hitting the water echoing against the tile walls.

I stood at the open locker, took a breath, closed my eyes and peeled off my shirt and sweatpants. My underwear was soaked; it stuck to my skin as I tried to pull it down. I panicked for a second, imagining a group of people coming in seeing me half naked and trapped. Get it together, Annie! I quickly recovered, peeled it all the way off and pulled my bra over my head.

"You need to pee?"

I watched him watching me as I closed the locker door, his penis slightly swollen, his hands holding two towels.

"You can just do it in here. C'mon." He crossed the small space to the shower room doorway.

I wasn't sure if I needed to pee, but I didn't want to spend any more time stripped and exposed than I had to. I quickly followed him into a tiled shower area, four heads, divided into pairs of semi-private stalls facing each other, each stall separated by full height partitions that extended only part way across the floor. The arrangement created the effect of a tiled pathway, starting from the doorway, providing access to the stalls.

Jimmie was already in one of the backmost stalls, his towels hanging on a hook. I joined him in the facing stall, relieved I could close it with a curtain if anyone else came in.

"Nobody is coming, Annie." Jimmie was soaping himself up.

I waited a moment until the water was hot. "You seem sure of yourself. How do you know, right this minute, that the entire south end of floor 3 isn't about to take over the place for their usual Wednesday group exercise meetup?"

He laughed and turned to rinse. "Just get that beautiful ass out of there and join me in the sauna."

I jumped as his hand stroked down my back to curl under and lightly grab my cheek.

"Sauna!? Wait. What?" I shut off the water and followed him as he turned to the left of the entry door. He was standing in front of a wooden door with a dark window cut into it, fiddling with some controls. He turned to invite me in as he opened it.

"It'll take a few minutes to get hot. C'mon."

The room was small, maybe large enough for six people, with two rows of benches forming an "L", a stone heating element already creaking as the coils came on. It smelled of dry cedar, with an undertone of sweat, the single bulb barely lighting it.

Jimmie directed me to sit next to him on the top bench, putting his towel down on the warm surface. I had started to wrap my own towel around me when he stopped me, slowly unpeeling it.

"You might want to sit on it," he suggested.

"Jimmie..." I tried to hold on to it, but he gently pulled it away, "I told you, I don't like being naked in public."

He ignored me, tapping my butt cheek to lift off the bench, making room to slide the towel under me.

"You're not in public. You're in a sauna. Everyone is naked in a sauna."

I shook my head, glancing between the door and the two of us: eyes, smile, chest hair, breasts, bush, stones, door, face, penis, face, breasts, stones. "Jimmie...." I could hear the whine starting, " really...I..."

He reached his arm around my shoulders and brought me into a kiss, silencing my protest. I squirmed for the first two heartbeats before the blob lit up, a glob breaking free and rolling up my spine into my brain. Jimmie kept my head pressed against him, his tongue wrestling with mine, my arm lifting to put my hand around his neck returning his embrace.

"Nnnngghhgooghh" I tried to pull away but he held me against him, his other hand moving to pinch my nipples. I squirmed, my hand trying to stop him, even as his caresses sent jolts into the blobs: red going up, yellow liquefying down. "Nooo, Jimmie!" I finally peeled off his lips, my hands pushing against his chest.

His smile shifted and I knew he wouldn't stop until I said the word. "Shh, Annie...shhhh....I locked the door...you're safe...shhhh..."

I whipped my head back to confirm, but I couldn't tell.

"You don't trust me...still?" He stroked my cheek, pulling my face back to stare into my eyes. "That's from...I'm sorry, Annie. I really am." He leaned in to kiss me, more gently, brushing his lips across mine, his hand continuing down my face, my chin, to the tops of my breasts, to rest his fingers on my right nipple. "But you're still my good, girl, right, Annie? You still want to be my pet, yeah?" His voice was soft easing me back.

I moaned, struggling between the sensations and the fear.

"You can double-check. Do you want to check?" He pulled his face back, waiting for me. "But," he continued with a mischievous tone, staring down at my breasts, at the tops of my thighs, my legs pressed together, "it'll cost you."

I shook my head, thinking back to the summer and the price I'd paid for begging him to let me out of the belt. Days of frustration. I looked down, seeing his penis was swelling. Knowing that my struggle was a turn-on for him took a back seat to the thought I'd be exposed to anyone happening to walk in.

"Spread your legs, pet. Wide open. Let me feel how wet your cunt is, being exposed, being stripped and exposed."

I snapped my eyes back to his face, his expression so familiar to me now. He wouldn't relent. I had a choice. I always had a choice: say the word; put a stop to this. Or, let go, go deeper into the game, be his hot wet bitch. More of the blob burbled up my spine, another part lighting up my insides between my thighs. "Fuckkkk, Jimmmeeee...." I sighed out the whine, briefly resisting his fingers as they lightly pushed against the inside of my thighs, until I relented, sitting back and opening my legs until the backs of my knees were against the bench lip.

"A little wider, pet," he said softly, his lips brushing my ear. "Shift your cunt forward. I want to see you wide open."

I swallowed my gasp, my eyes darting back to the door, my hands gripping the front of the bench as I slid, the towel moving with me, over the slats.

The room had been getting hotter, the air moist, sweat oozing from our open pores. We sat in silence for what seemed like forever, but was probably only a minute, listening to the creaks of the stones, feeling our skin moisten.

"I love you, Annie," he said in my ear. "I love that you are so obedient. I love that you want...no...need to be my good little pet. You do need this, don't you..." He touched the tip of his tongue inside my canal, tickling me. "I love to smell how horny you are, how wet you get when you follow my commands." I squirmed until he held my head, his tongue penetrating deeper. "Tell me what you are, Annie."

I moaned, my eyes closed, my body lit up: hot, wet. "I'm...your...hot...wet...bitch...your cunt...your pet...your plaything...ooohhh fuckkkkk, Jimmieee!" He'd moved his hand down to my abdomen, grazing just one fingertip through my pubic hair to barely rest on my hood. I could feel his heartbeat in my clit, the need to push against him only held back by my training. I knew I'd cum faster if I held still, but it was getting close to impossible to not move.

"You're a good girl, Annie. You've come a long way in a month. Such a smart little puppy." He lightly tapped his finger, so lightly, just enough to send short electric-yellow pulses into the blob. I could feel my juices flowing to my lips. "You get a treat."

"Ohhh, fuck, Jimmiee...please...oh noooo..." He pulled his hand away and shifted his position. A treat. I opened my eyes and watched as he stepped onto the lower bench, bending forward over my head to rest his arms against the wall behind me. I looked down, across his abs to see his erection standing proud, bobbing slightly with his heartbeat. Just my mouth. He'd made it clear so many times in the past few months. Just your mouth, pet. I leaned forward, sliding my middle finger deep into my vagina, coating it with liquid, the action letting my juices spill out, before bringing my hands to his butt cheeks. I wanted to hold him, spread him open, let him feel the hot air on his anus, press against his hole to make him go deeper into my throat.

Slowly, slowly, I enveloped his head with my lips, my tongue exploring his hole, pressing hard against the skin, skin I knew was sensitive from his arousal. I was rewarded with a moan, and a jerk of his hips. But my hands kept him in place, pinned against my mouth as I continued to slowly swallow him, take him as deep as I could. Bent over, I could smell my cunt, the aroma mixing with Jimmie's musk and sweat, the smells filling the room. The thought, still lingering, that someone would find us this way made me hesitate, but aside from Jimmie's grunts, the sounds of the rocks, and the squishing of his cock in my mouth, there was silence from the outer room.

He had gotten stiffer, and more swollen, but that was likely from my finger pushing into his rectum, my lubrication helping overcome resistance, his pushing to open himself an invitation for me to massage his prostate. He moaned again as I found it, wriggling my finger deeper to force him against my throat. I slid my mouth back, probing his internal organ with small thrusts, feeling his rectum contract, pulling against me. He gasped, buckling his knees to rest them against the bench, inside my thighs, as I lowered my mouth over him again.

So slowly. It was what he taught me when he fucked me: slow, slow, slow. Force him to beg, force him to thrust, make him earn his orgasm. Even though he was face fucking me, I had the power. I owned his pleasure. Over and over again, ever so slowly. Out and off, the air so hot in the room but probably cool against his mushroom head. And down, lubricating my progress with mouthfuls of saliva, the result of taking him so deeply. And again. And one more time until...

...I felt the vibrations, starting against my fingertip deep inside him, his cock springing up against my palate, trapped in my throat. I focused on my breathing to stop the cramping, but I knew he wanted to hear me gagging. The belch erupted even as I drooled down his shaft onto his balls, and then I clamped tightly on him feeling his ejaculation move from his gland and balls up through his shaft to burst into my throat.

*-*-*-*

"Is this what you're expecting from all of our exercises here?" I had leaned back against the wall, my legs still spread open, my hands resting on my thighs. Jimmie had slipped out of me minutes before, sitting next to me, panting, planting kisses on my face, Frenching me to taste whatever of his cum he could.

He laughed and looked into my eyes: hunger, need, love.

I was on fire: the blob was a taught string, yellow electricity around my clit, thickening to a deep orange in my gut to a crimson red starting at my breasts, forming a cloud around my brain. My skin was on fire, not only from my arousal, from my exertions, but from the sauna...My insides were on fire: my cunt, my gut, and each time I breathed, my lungs filled with hot air. I needed release. Anything. Out of the room into a shower, an orgasm. Anything.

I wrapped my hands around the back of his head and pulled him over and down. "Your hot wet bitch needs to cum, Jimmie. If you are good, I'll squirt hot cum all over you. Can you make your puppy cunt explode on your face?" I knew I was taking a chance; maybe he would do it just for the experience, or maybe he'd punish me for taking the initiative, keep me on the precipice, drawing this out for who knew how long.

I said a silent prayer that the gambit worked. He quickly knelt down and began slow light kisses on my legs, starting from my left knee up my thigh, across my labia and down the other side. And back again. Each time I gripped the bench to hold myself frozen in place, to show him what a well-trained bitch I had become, to let him tease me, lick me, lightly dance his tongue across my clit. I moaned and whimpered, but I didn't move, feeling the yellow blob intensify, feeling the pressure growing deep in my gut.

He slowly shifted to focus on my labia, lightly licking my juices, flicking his tongue, first on the outer thicker pair, and then more focused, more pointed in the creases, before moving down from my hood, my need to shift my hips, to push my pelvis against him so strong I cried out, begging him to fuck me with his tongue. But I didn't move; he rewarded me by sliding my inner lips apart, slowly, so fucking slowly, driving his tongue as deep into me as he could.

I lost track of time; I lost track of the room. My head was swirled in red, my body in orange, my cunt in bright yellow, a small sun growing deep in my uterus, beginning to shine beams out my cervix. I imagined light rays shining out of my cunt to light up Jimmie's face. And more, shining up my lower back, up my spine, constantly fueled by Jimmie's tongue. I barely noticed when he slipped his fingers behind me, spreading my cheeks, pulling open my sphincter, creating another yellow stream when he pushed a finger into me. I gasped and then everything imploded, a heartbeat of quiet, silence, even though I could see the climax coming at me, out of me, as the sun supernovaed shining yellow rays out of every pore, every opening in my body.