Personal Training

Maybe it was a mid-life crisis? Regardless of the reason, I joined the local gym. And I didn't just join, I hired a personal trainer to set me up. Just one week, I figured, and she could teach me everything I needed to know and I'd go on from there. My husband was a regular gym rat, but I wanted to be smooth and lean, and figured a female trainer could show me the things that women should do. She showed me, all right...

The first item on the schedule was measurements. I was rather uncomfortable stripping down to panties and a sports bra, but Rachel was coolly professional about it, and I figured that she did this all the time, right? She asked me what exactly I was trying to accomplish, and quickly set up a routine for me. She was a stern taskmaster, and by the end of the hour I was drenched with sweat. When I met her for our second session two days later, I was so sore, but did my best to impress her. Her body was so incredible that just watching her demonstrate the exercises was motivation enough. Her breasts were huge on her lean, toned frame, and she eventually confided to me that they were "store bought". Regardless, they were quite impressive, and I noticed that all the men wanted to talk to her.

By Friday, I was beginning to think I was going to get the hang of it, and Rachel and I were fast friends. We chattered away after my workout, and the talk eventually turned to sex, as it almost always does when women get together. She told me that she was internet dating, and started laughing about the incredibly erotic letter she'd gotten from a would-be suitor. I told her that I loved erotica, and asked if I could read it. She brought it out, and we had a giggle over it, as it was kind of out there. Mostly, though, he wanted to tie her up, so of course I told her that bondage was always my secret fantasy. A high school sweetheart and I wrote really naughty letters to each other, and had actually just finished one together. I promised to forward it to her email, and left, telling her I'd see her next week.

Monday came, and Rachel could hardly wait to talk about the letter I'd forwarded her. I have to be honest here, it's not just bondage I'm fascinated by, but the entire dominance/submission fantasy. Rachel said my story was incredibly hot, and went on and on about how she'd love to be a fly on the wall if I ever went through with it. After she'd shared the letter from the internet would-be dater, I assumed that she shared my interest, and didn't think much more about it. Our friendship continued, and then on a girls' night out with a few gym regulars, Rachel had a couple of drinks too many, and finally admitted that she didn't want those things done to her. She wanted to do them to me.

It was a complete bombshell for me. I'd never so much as kissed a woman, and cautiously told her that I was flattered, and tried to put it out of my mind. It refused to stay gone, though. The more we got to know each other and the more I saw her in her tight workout clothes, luscious breasts straining at her sports bra, the more I realized that it was definitely something I was interested in. We exchanged phone numbers, and began to text; at first just flirty, and then downright naughty. Finally, she made a trip to the adult bookstore for some toys for us, and we began to plan our evening. I was to say I was going in to work early, but instead come to her house. We'd go for drinks, and play it by ear.

As nervous as I've ever been, I showed up at her house a little early. I was dressed as she had instructed, in a tight skirt, heels, and a low cut sweater. She answered the door in a robe, and after she escorted me to her den, took the robe off to reveal a bustier, with a matching G-string. I was mesmerized by her breasts, and she sternly instructed me to strip for her. I hesitated, and she produced the riding crop she'd bought at the toy store, and slapped my bottom with it. Not gently. I began to peel my clothes off, and she admired my body at each stage. Finally when I was down to my thong, which she'd insisted I wear, she told me to kneel in front of the couch, and blindfolded me snugly.

"Hands behind your back!"

I obeyed promptly, and she tied my wrists tightly behind me, then my ankles.

"Wait for me" she said, like I had any choice in the matter.

Rachel was probably only gone a few minutes, but it seemed like hours. Here I was, all but naked, blindfolded, and bound securely, with no real idea what was going to happen to me. 'Crack!' came the crop across my ass, and I flinched and moaned, but I felt it just as strongly between my legs as I had on my bottom. 'Crack!' The crop came down again on my other cheek, even harder than before. The pain was delicious, and I began to writhe, feeling the blood flow to my clitoris.

She hit me again and again, telling me what a naughty whore I was, kneeling on the floor so wantonly. She grabbed the back of my head, pulled me towards her breast, and allowed me to suckle her erect nipple, but only briefly. Then I sensed her position herself on the couch in front of me, and she ripped the blindfold off. My face was inches from her pussy, which was waxed clean and smooth. I only had a second to stare before my face was pulled roughly between her spread legs.

"Lick, or I'll whip that ass harder!"

I was tentative at first, unsure of what I was doing, but I had to admit it was the most erotic thing I'd ever even dreamt of. I suddenly realized that the simplest solution was to do the same things to her that I liked having done to myself.

I was at a slight disadvantage by having my hands tied, but Rachel told me exactly what she wanted, pulling my face this way and that, and instructing me to get my tongue as far inside her as it would go. I tongue-fucked her eagerly before she finally pulled my mouth back to her clitoris, and told me to suck. I did so enthusiastically, using my lips and tongue together. She leaned back, opened her legs even further, and began to grind herself wantonly against my face.

Between the warmth still radiating from my well spanked bottom, and the realization that I was this woman's helpless cum slut, I no sooner made her cum than I had a massive orgasm of my own. I came down from the euphoria slowly, intending to shower and leave, but Rachel had other ideas. From her bag of goodies, she produced some lubricant, and a massive dildo. She refused to untie me, and rolled me onto my side on the floor. My pussy was plenty wet, but the dildo was huge. Coming at me from behind, she eased it slowly into my still tingling pussy, inch by tantalizing inch.

I have never been multi-orgasmic, but my still-tied ankles and tightly clenched thighs kept a delicious pressure on my clitoris, and her slow strokes with the dildo made me realize that another orgasm was on the horizon. As agile as a cat, she suddenly switched positions, grabbed me by the hair and turned my face upwards. She knelt on the floor, straddling me, facing my pussy.

Rachel continued her assault on my cunt with the dildo, but now I was forced to lick her pussy again, this time from a whole new angle. She even slid forward on my face a bit, instructing me harshly to lick her asshole as well. This time there was no hesitation on my part, and I tongue bathed every inch of my new mistress' crotch.

She cried out "Harder, harder!" and her strokes with the dildo matched her instructions to me. I screamed as I began to cum again, but my cries were muffled, and Rachel sat completely still as spasms wracked her pussy as well.

As soon as we'd both caught our breath, Rachel stood, nonchalant, the personal trainer back.

"Get dressed and we'll go for that drink."

Bewildered, like I'd just fallen down the rabbit hole, I took the clothes she offered. Sluttier than anything I would have normally worn, I felt exactly like the woman who'd just had her face ridden. Rachel drove, and we went to a high end bar. Another activity I'd have never done.

We sat at a smallish table; just two sexy women out on the town. I looked around the bar, wondering if people thought we were a couple, or just two friends looking for guys. I didn't have long to wonder, though. The interlude of near normalcy was evidently enough for Rachel to feel hunger again.

When we arrived back at her house, she told me to undress again. This time I was eager, and stripped quickly, kneeling without being asked. She disappeared as before, and came out wearing a lacey bra, hose, heels, and a garter belt. Nothing else. She took the same position on the couch, grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me to her.

This time my hands were free, and I made good use of them. I caressed her thighs as I licked her folds, gently at first, and then more vigorously as she moaned and leaned back into the couch. Encouraged by her vocal symphony, I slid a finger into her. She spread her legs wider, and I twisted two fingers together, pushing all the way inside. I finger fucked her slowly, my lips concentrating on her rapidly swelling clitoris. I knew what always pushed me over the top, and so I began to suck.

Now Rachel writhed, and pulled my face against her mound. Hard. Shoving my fingers in as far as they would go, over and over, I kept a gradually increasing pressure on her clit with my mouth. This time I came first, so turned on from the reaction I was getting from her that I couldn't help myself. She soon joined me, bucking against my mouth uncontrollably. We lay there for a few minutes longer. My face was smeared with her juices, my legs were cramping from kneeling so long, and I felt drained from the intense orgasms. But being her obedient slave, happy to provide any service she wished, was without a doubt the sexiest thing I'd ever done.

Rachel and I are still friends, but we never acted out the fantasy again. How could we ever top the perfect night?