Lance's Seven Sins 02: Pride

As ninja-like as I could, I crept around to the back of the house and over to the kitchen window. Thanks to the open plan of the house (a requirement while I was home-shopping), I knew I would probably be able to get the view I needed from there. "Oh, god! I'm cumming again!" Fucking hell, she's vocal. Again, I lifted my head up just enough to be able to see, and I was rewarded for my devious efforts. Kat's lithe body made her swinging breasts look cartoonish from behind.

She was putting work into that dick, that absolutely massive, holy-fuck-it's-real, how-is-she-not-screaming-in-pain-right-now dick. Lance held Kat by her hips, slamming her up and down his prodigious member. From what I saw, even if Lance was only getting halfway in he would still be at least as long as his father.. and a fair amount thicker too. Kat eventually began to slow up, and Lance took the opportunity to fondle her chest.

She kept riding at a slow pace as he took a nipple in his mouth, then she sank down sensuously, taking him in as deep as she could and resting there. I squinted to get a glance at how much was left, and then I noticed what else was between his legs. A literal softball-sized flesh bag was resting on the couch, holding too very full testicles.

I didn't notice until now, but I was rubbing myself over my clothes. I absolutely could not go back into the house and change, but I was too wet to keep my pants on, whether I touched myself or not. Off they came, down to my knees, and I didn't hesitate at all to start masturbating relentlessly.

My other hand worked on a nipple through my top, then I turned my head to look back inside. Kat still had Lance's cock buried in him, and Lance was kneading her breasts with both hands while the two exchanged saliva. Fuck, I'm cumming. The sounds of water splashing the concrete below were audible, which only turned me on more. My mission wasn't fully accomplished yet, though, and I was more than ready to go for another round. I continued to ravish myself while watching them make out.

Come on, Lance. Bend her over, and give it to her. As if they had heard my thoughts, Kat began to reposition and un-impale herself from Lance's huge pole. The anticipation was making me rub my clit as hard as I could, and I bore witness as more and more of his cock kept unsheathing itself from Kat's insides. She just kept rising and rising off it; inch by inch it revealed itself. The more that showed, the closer I came to release. I remember being impressed by Kat's ability to take something that deep inside her, then the head finally popped out.

My mind went completely blank as a powerful orgasm struck my body like a thunderstorm; all that was left of my vision was the towering cock that swung down and back up. Holy FUCK, it must be a foot long! More splashing noises filled my ears as my pussy juices soaked into the ground beneath me, and my eyes rolled into the back of my head for a moment. Once I regained my vision, Kat was bent over the couch. Lance struck his cock down onto her lower back like a blacksmith swinging his hammer. He licked his fingers and reached under her to rub at his goal.

Damn, it's extending halfway up her fucking back!

When I finally regained my strength; my gaze shifted under me to find a large puddle leaking towards the backyard lawn. I remembered where I was and instantly tried to compose myself. I pulled my underwear and spandex back up to my waist and started sneaking back towards my car. When I turned the corner to the side of the house, Kat really started to scream like I would expect from someone being rammed into by my son's massive tool.

My son's...

I paused below the window I first peeked through, listening to the wailing on the other side that I so desperately wished were me. Julia stop! He's your son! I shook my head, trying to snap out of the haze of lust, then made haste back to my car to get to work. It was going to be very hard to concentrate.

*

"Good, Curt! Two more."

"Hrrgh!" Curt grunted as he completed his second-to-last burpee. The sounds of other trainers, cardio machines, and free weights being carelessly dropped filled the air. Curt was a middle aged, rotund, balding man that I had been training for a five years now. At first he was a great customer: worked hard when he was here and only spoke when spoken to.

Now, however, he was talkative.. the obviously-hitting-on-you type of talkative. I guess he expected to get closer to me over the years and eventually win me over with his claims of money. We relate in many ways, as he's also a single parent caring for a son; for this he has my respect. I am actually impressed by how much money he claims to make, and we get along well enough. Unfortunately, I've seen the bulge of his junk more than enough times to know he's not going to satisfy me in bed. That being said - he's a paying customer, and I'm always overly nice to those.

"Hrrgh!" He jumped one last time, then he dramatically collapsed.

"Are you showing off for me again, or should I seek medical attention?" I joked, leaning over him. Curt usually does this, but I had to ask since the gym was crowded.

"That depends on if we get ambulanced to dinner," he jested, one eye open, heaving breaths between words.

"I don't think Guigino's valets ambulances," I retorted, offering a helping hand up. He laughed then rolled over onto a knee.

"I'm okay, but thank you," he exasperated, lifting himself up.

"Same time next week?" I asked, extending for a handshake.

"You know it!" Curt replied with a firm grip. "Thank you, Julie." He turned to leave.

"No, Curt. Thank you!" I watched as he exited the gym, then felt how wet it still was between my legs. I took a look in the mirror to make sure that it didn't look like I had peed my pants a little. Whew. We're clear. Okay. Just gotta get a shower, and then I'll head home and try to figure out what to do about this.

"Was that your last appointment?" a cute, doll-like voice behind me inquired.

"Hey, Stacy," I answered, turning to face her. "Yeah, I just have to take a shower, then I can get outta here." I stated, turning to face her. She wore a standard slutty gym bunny outfit: high waist short leggings, sports bra, no top. Stacy was the picture perfect gym receptionist; her body and face might as well have been sculpted for the job. Her sports bra squishes her E-cup breasts into mountains of cleavage, her olive skin tone means she doesn't have to tan at all.

Her straight dark-blonde hair gleamed perfectly behind her upper back, and the shining green of her deep set eyes could give a man an erection alone. The adorable button nose sitting perfectly above the round lips she got from her mother, along with those hips supporting a bubble butt that resulted from years of hard work. Stacy was skinny, and she had barely any muscle tone - just the way she wanted it.

"Not so fast, I hope. Art is making rounds to see who wants to go to the bar after the shift, and he specifically asked me to invite you," she joyfully bounced.

"Oh, no," I sighed.

"What's 'Oh, no' about that?" Stacy asked, ceasing her bouncing. "I thought you would like that, considering-"

"Not here, Stacy!" I loved her, but she had no filter and little care for social context.

"Sorry. To your office then?" she already started heading towards it.

"Are you sure Richard won't get mad that you aren't at the desk again?"

"I put the moves on him pretty hard earlier. It looked like you've had a rough day, so I made sure to be free for you."

She's so carelessly thoughtful; I'm surprised she hasn't bagged her rich guy yet, even at 20 years old. "If you say so."

Stacy skipped down to my office, and I briskly followed behind her. Stacy and I have become quite close, and I'm proud to call her family good friends that Lance and I have spent the holidays with on multiple occasions. Her mother, Janice, worked here when I first started 21 years ago.

-

My first day, Janice showed me the ropes and kept me under her protection. She taught me all about how cruel and catty female gym employees could be, and worse: female gym rats. If not for her, I would not have been able to avoid many situations that would have forced me to find new work. Janice was 30 at the time, and she coincidentally found out she was pregnant the night of my first day. During her extended maternal leave, I pleaded with Richard to take her back and not hire anyone to replace her.

Janice would soon return the favor once I gave birth to Lance. Ten years later, Janice retired early to commit to motherhood, but in those ten years we became as close as could be. Stacy was her first of three children, and her husband got a promotion that would support their lifestyle with just one income. She was like my big sister, and I confided in her all of my emotional, physical, and sexual stories and predicaments.

Another six years went by, then Stacy came to work at the gym. She latched onto me immediately, which I expected considering how long we've been family friends. The relationship developed much like mine and Janice's, only the roles poetically reversed.

-

Stacy sat down on the edge of one of the chairs in front of my desk, and I sank into the one behind it. She reached over, closed the door, then asked, "Art's got a tree trunk for a penis according to Brit.. and Melissa.. and Haley. I thought Size Queen Julie would be excited about this, not all 'Oh, no! Mercy me! A big black cock wants to pound me into next Tuesday!'"

"No, I know. He's just been with too many of the girls around here, and I don't want that sort of attention."

"Bullshit! I heard the stories about Jonas. Even you told me he was so thick some girls couldn't fit him into his mouth. He was so big that you dated him for crying out loud!"

"Yes, but when we broke up one of us had to leave the gym. He tried to force me out by fucking as many of our coworkers as he could. Eventually, he resorted to fucking his clients in the showers when he knew I would be in there. Thankfully, Richard caught him one day, and the war was over."

"Why would you break up with a hot muscular guy that has a cock so thick it made girls scream loud enough Richard could hear them in the showers from his office?" she asked, leaning back into the chair.

"We've been over this, Stacy, come on."

"Okay, okay. So you won't fuck Art and his huge dark dick because you don't want to get into a relationship with him? For all we know, he just wants one night with that gravity-defying donk you're sitting on."

"Thanks for reminding me that my ass is huge. Let me put it this way: the difference between Art and Jonas was that I was Jonas' first around here. Every girl wanted a piece of what was straining Jonas' briefs; almost every girl has already had a piece of what's straining Art's briefs. See the difference?"

"Yeah.. yeah. I totally get you there. Then why the 'oh, no'? You're clearly hornier than a bitch in heat today."

"That's exactly why the 'oh, no'! Wait. How can you tell?"

"Julie, you might be twice my age and have been working here since I was born, but even I know what all that fidgeting means."

"Oh, my god. Is it that obvious?"

"You might as well have a sign in front of your vag that says, 'Eat at Julie's'," she joked, hands gesturing the shape of a sign in front of her own vagina.

I heavily sighed, "If only..."

"Right! So put aside your moral standards for one night and get yours, girl." She's not wrong. I can't get Kat's screams, my puddle, and.. most importantly.. Lance's monstrous cock out of my head. Maybe getting railed out by Art will temper my lust, and then I can think clearly about this new discovery. "I'm not hearing a no-o-o," she teased, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I looked her in the eye sternly and stated, "I'll come to the bar, but if anyone asks tell them I'm not sure yet. I don't want Art thinking this is a done deal for him already."

"Yes! I love drinking with you," Stacy exclaimed, hopping out of the chair.

"You could've just waited a couple of weeks for July 4th. Your mother likes drinking with me more than you do."

"True. Well, now I get you to myself for a night. See you later!" she said, reaching for the door.

"Hang on! What happened with Brian and Melissa?"

Stacy swung right around and sat her perfect butt back in the chair. "Oh. My. God. Okay. So I'm at the front desk chatting with Melissa..."

*

"Even though I'm right next to her, and he - out of nowhere - just asks if she wants to ride in his car here tonight." Stacy took a swig of her newly made drink, winced, gulped and harshly exhaled. "Ohh, that's strong," Stacy wheezed, putting her drink down on the bar. Classic rock played at a comfortable volume on the speaker; the sounds of billiards being played across the bar could be heard every so often. We sat in adjacent stools in front of the bar, alone but with the guys from the gym peeking over every now and again.

"And she yes, just like that?" I asked, taking a sip of my vodka soda.

"Doesn't even make him work for it.. dumb whore." Stacy nearly fell out of her seat trying to reach down to the floor below for her bag. She caught herself, pulled a low cut tee out and threw it on.

"Do I have to call your mother to come pick you up?" I joked as I gulped down the remainder of my own beverage.

"You'd love that wouldn't you?" she retorted, still wincing.

"My best friend and I making fun of her firstborn daughter, who can't hold her liquor? Absolutely, I would."

"Another vodka soda, Julie?" the bartender asked, shaking a glass he held up in offering. Jack, a tall, scruffy, skinny guy in his late twenties - who looks like he knows your favorite craft beer from that one guy who brews it in the shed outside his parents' out-of-state vacation home - has been our bartender on Thursdays at the favorite local spot of us gym staff for long enough to know our orders, most of which are vodka sodas.

"Exactly the way you made this one, Jack. Thank you." I handed him my empty and he began to fill up a new glass.

"Make that two, please, Jack," Stacy requested.

"You sure, Stace? You're not even done with that one yet," he cautioned, finishing my drink in the shaker.

Stacy downed the rest of her current one and glared back at him.

Jack handed me my vodka soda and smiled at Stacy. "I won't question you again."

"Careful, Jack. That's the type of thing I like to hear in the bedroom," she cooed.

"Maybe you should cut her off," Art said in his baritone voice, creating a triangle standing next to Stacy and I. Art was a very tall, very dark-skinned, very muscular, very handsome, bald man. He towered above the three of us, muscles bulging through his collared t-shirt and dark jeans. They're not the only things bulging through his jeans. He greeted me with a smile across his masculine jawline, and I returned the gesture as womanly as I could. I could get him to fuck me in his car in about three minutes.

"Hey, now! Don't tell Jack what to do with my drinks; that's up for his judgment alone," Stacy protested, extending out of her seat and reaching towards Jack to hold his arm.

"Actually-" Jack started, until Stacy whirred her head around and beamed at him, "she's right."

Art and I chucked together, then he said, "Stacy, you're such a firecracker."

"I thought you were here to hit on Julie," she said with a 'harumph' in her voice, breasts jiggling in her sports bra as she slumped back down onto her stool.

Art blushed as much as a black man could, and he looked at me with a weakness that few have seen in him before. "I-"

"Stacy he was complimenting you," I said, leaning my head to meet her eyes that were currently buried in her drink.

She exhaled after slurping a good portion of her drink down. "Oops."

"Julie, I want you to know that while I find you attractive, I would never want to do that to our professional relationship." Nice recovery, Art.

Our eyes met, and I put my hand on his chest. Ohh, that's a nice pec. Fuck, that turned me on. "Thank you, Art. I respect that. I must admit I find you very attractive as well, but you're right. Our relationship must stay professional."

"I'm glad we're on the same page, then," he concluded, then walked towards the other male trainers at the pool table.

"What gives? I thought you were three seconds from leaving with him the way you felt him up. Why didn't you just jump his bones?" Stacy inquired, putting the straw from her drink between her lips.-

I sighed, "I just can't do it, Stace. He's been with too many, way too many. Becoming the only one in the gym who hasn't actually tickles my fancy a bit."

She exhaled loudly, loosening the grip her lips had on the tiny straw. "Sounds like you're holding out for someone else. So who is it?"

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"You don't get me when I ask you for things at the gym unless I'm extremely explicit with my requests, but in social contexts you see right through the facades and charades people craft to camouflage their true emotions. It's incredible."

"That's a high compliment you just gave me, Julie. I appreciate it, even if it was backhanded." She lifted her drink up to cheers me.

"You're welcome. You've grown up a lot in such a short time; I'm glad you're using your powers for good." I lifted my own up, and our drinks tinked. We each took swigs and gulped.

"Am I?" Or did I sabotage your chances with Art so that I could be the one in his car instead?" Stacy claimed, hopping out of the stool.

"You go right ahead, girl, but I'm not driving you home afterwards." I glanced at the table with the guys, then back at Stacy.

"That's fine, as long as you don't tell my mother," she requested, half-turned, waiting for my reply.

"Have I ever?"

"And that's why I love ya." Stacy's back now faced me as she walked up to Art and the others. I followed suit, both our drinks half empty.

*

"So, Julie," Jack began, pouring me a water. "What's your deal? I promise I'm not asking because I'm interested; I've got a happy situation at home. I'm just curious. You're always here hanging with people half your age, and you're still just as good looking. Usually you have one or three arms wrapped around you walking out the door around this time, so why are you alone tonight?" He handed me the water with no straw and no ice, just like I prefer.

I took a sip, then put it back down and sighed. "Thanks, Jack," I said, half pointing at him with my glass and half raising a cheers to no one. "You're a real bartender; not many kids your age can do it as well as you."

He gave me a puzzled look. "It's just tap water. There's not even any ice in it."

"Ha!" I guffawed. "I'm talking about you genuinely caring for your regulars, dear."

"Oh.. well, thank you. That means a lot, actually," he rallied, perking up.

"You're quite welcome, Jack."

"That also means you're not gonna tell me, huh?" he asked, leaning onto the bar with one elbow.

"If you have to ask, you will never know," I said cryptically.

"Don't go quoting Harry Potter to me, Julie. I happen to be aware of the reputation you had around here before I started tending bar," he proclaimed, standing straight and folding his arms.

"Well, then.. if you know, you need only ask."

"..Touche.. I'll come out with it then. The Julie I heard about would've had one or more of those guys eating out of the palm of her hand within minutes, yet here you are drinking a water alone in a crowded bar on a Thursday night. Something is wracking your brain to the point of not going home but also not mentally being where you are." He leaned in close to ensure that our conversation would be private.