Releasing Your Muscles

I got to the sports med office a bit early. I'm always early because of my deep fear of letting people down, but on this day, they booked me in the 6pm slot, the last one of the day. I had time to kill after training, so I went straight to the office.

I also just liked hanging out with everyone there. All the physical therapists are really friendly and fun. I'd also been going there for years, so I knew everyone's relationships statuses, the gossip about the newest personal trainer, and all the drama with the office manager.

One of the personal trainers, Jane, was working reception.

"Hey, Jane -- 6 with Ben. I know I'm a bit early," I said.

"Hey, no worries. He should be ready soon. How's training been?" Jane used to compete in powerlifting too.

"It's been good. Nationals is next month, so we'll see how we go. The work is all there, but I just need this shoulder to cooperate."

Jane nodded, "I hear ya. Well, hopefully we can get you sorted out today."

I smiled, and she checked me in and then switched off the training studio lights.

"I expected it to be busier here this time of day." I said, wondering who else might be in.

Jane was shuffling some papers around and had started packing her bag, "Yeah, most of our clients come during the workday or lunch. Not like your late-night lifting crew. A few of the therapists are off too. Actually, I think you're the only one booked in."

"Wow, special treatment," I joked lowkey wondering if I was going to get murdered tonight. I could put up a good fight against Ben, but I'd probably still bet against myself -- I saw him power clean 170kg on Instagram last week.

Ben came out of his cubicle with his 5pm client whose arm was covered in cup marks. Ben gave me a nod and a big smile.

"I'll have what he got," I joked.

Ben laughed, "Oh yeah? Well, if you've been skipping those accessories like I hear, then you'll be in for it today."

I cringe-smiled. Caught. Who's been telling the guys I've been skipping my rehab exercises?

Probably Eli. He knows too much, and he can't keep his mouth shut. Since we'd been hooking up, I bet he gets off on divulging my secrets to Ben.

Were those new shorts? It looks like the therapists all got new shorts, or maybe just Ben. He bent over the desk to rebook his client, and the shorts had to stretch around his ass. They were short enough to see his quads flex too.

Ben's not super tall, but he has the best posture of anyone I've ever seen which always makes him seem taller. He's a weightlifter which means thick traps and legs like tree trunks. I always thought he should wear tighter shirts with the way his upper body is built, but I think it leaves just enough for the imagination. Plus, the tattoo peeking out under the sleeve of his polo paints a pretty good picture.

As his client left, he used me as a warning about what happens when you skip your exercises. He promised Ben he'd do them.

"Come on back, M."

I led the way to his cubicle, and he shut the door behind him.

I took off my shirt and began updating him on my rotator cuff.

"I really think it's connected to internal rotation. I'm not getting pain in overhead as much as I do with that banded exercise..."

I was demonstrating the exercise when I noticed his eyes on my shoulder - or maybe my breasts. I continued explaining the pain, as he started setting up the table.

"Sweet, let me just do one quick test. Have a seat here..."

I sat down on the table, and he held my shoulders, rotating me side to side.

"Cool, that's not too bad. Alright, face down please." He turned to the corner of the room, signalling me to get situated on the table.

I always thought I was quite badass for not turning away to take off my bra with him. I doubt he ever actually saw anything - he's a professional and all - but it still made me feel sexy. I climbed onto the table, peeking my face through the hole, and letting my arms dangle off the edges.

He rubbed his hands together with that gel that smells like icy hot and began massaging my back. This was always my favorite part. No pain, just relaxing.

"Joints feel good," he noted.

"Mm, upper traps are good too, I promise."

"Likely story," he grabbed my upper traps which felt like ropes and rubbed them down to my shoulder.

I winched.

"Yeah, OKAY. I'm adding those to the list too." He said laughing.

There was a knock on the door, and Jane cracked it open.

"I'm off," she said, "you all good to close up?"

"Yeah, no worries," Ben said, "have a good night."

"Wow, I didn't realize I was the only one booked in this late. I could have done an earlier time," I said, suddenly embarrassed that I was the reason he had to be here late.

"No, no. I always work this slot. I start late on Thursdays." Ben said, sliding his forearm down my back extensors.

"Oh cool. I didn't want to make you stay late."

"You're not making me do anything," he said, "but I am going to make you do that pull-up challenge at some point."

"I will!" I promised, "just as soon as you fix my shoulder."

We laughed.

"Okay, deal."

He put cups all down my back, and I zoned out for a bit watching his feet through the hole as he worked around me. He set the timer and leaned against the wall.

"So... how's Eli?" He asked.

I was pulled back to reality. "What kind of question is that?"

"Ha. Well, he talks so much about you behind your back to me that I thought I'd give you a chance to talk behind his."

Okay, maybe he doesn't actually know anything. And - wait - who even cares if he did?

"That's fair. I appreciate the offer. He's good," I started. "Um, yeah - we're fucking, and yeah, it's good. Things are good."

He was laughing, "Wow, okay, he did not share that with me. Damn, I don't even have to try to get information out of you."

I turned my head, so I could see him. "I've always been an open book." I smiled, "now, what's the dirt on you?"

"You know me, a little bit of this, a little bit of that." He trailed off and started taking off my cups.

"What does that mean?" I put my face back in the hole in the table.

I felt his hip against mine as he collected the cups.

He paused, "There's no dirt on me. I just take it day-by-day." He left his hand on my lower back a little too long as he said it. I felt my chest warm. He ran his hand across my back to my hip.

I always loved this tension. I know it's his job to touch me, but when his fingers linger or when the speed of a stroke feels a bit too sensual, I can't help but wonder what he's thinking. Does he do that on purpose? There's another woman at the gym who sees him too, and I've thought about asking her if she feels the same thing. But we're not that close, and it's not like it's anything. And if it is anything, I certainly don't want anyone else finding out.

"Whatever you say, hot stuff." I said.

He laughed. "Nah, I'm just trying to follow my gut about things." He was massaging my triceps on the edge of the table, going painfully slow from my shoulder to my elbow. "I've been doing the things I think I should be doing, but now I'm trying to feel a bit more and follow what I know I should be doing."

He placed one hand gently on the back of my neck as he placed my arm back by my side. He ran his fingers over my hand. This is new.

"That's deep," I said, somewhat impressed that a fellow meathead would bring up his feelings with me. It's a low bar.

Just as I was noticing how quiet it was, I started to feel exposed. It's one thing to be half-naked in front of your physical therapist, but this - this felt like something else.

I took a deep breath and weighed the possibilities. He's not a creep. We've known each other for years, and he's a professional. But how would I have known if he were into me? These cubicles aren't soundproof. That's why the gossip here is so good. But still, he wouldn't risk his reputation. He would need to hear it from me.

I relaxed into the risk. He walked around to my other side and started working my other tricep. In between the strokes down the length of my arm, he was now running his hand gently along my bicep. The pain and pleasure made me a little light-headed.

Then, he leaned his hips into my side, and I let out a soft moan. It made a small echo in the quiet office.

I froze, suddenly not sure if I judged the situation correctly. He leaned away from me and kept stroking my upper arm. He silently finished with my tricep and placed my arm onto the table, this time resting his hand on top of mine for a moment.

"Okay," he took a deep breath, "let's see this rotator cuff."

He started manipulating my shoulder blade and then took his hands off me to get more gel. He moved my arm over slightly on the table leaving some room between my side and my arm. There's a muscle at the backside of my underarm that is relentlessly tight - the source of my misery.

Ben began rubbing his fingers in a circle around that spot making my arm relax and fall further away from my side. His fingers were moving down, and I realized the side of my breast was visible. I felt the side of his body against mine as he leaned on the table. He kept moving down until his whole hand was massaging the side of my breast.

I flushed. I could feel my face getting hot under the table. I had to say something. Something sexy, but not weird. Please don't be weird.

"Is it tight there too?"

Idiot.

"Oh my god. I'm sorry --" He took his hands off, and I could see him standing motionless under the table. He paused for what felt like eternity. I held my breath. How do I salvage this?

"Um," he cleared his throat, paused, and found courage to say, "was that okay?"

My heart palpitated so hard I thought it shook the table. I hoped that would be enough for him to know how badly I wanted it, so I wouldn't have to say it.

My mind went into panic mode. When was the last time I shaved? What is happening? What underwear am I wearing? Is this happening? Are there cameras in here? Surely, I misinterpreted him.

But my racing mind couldn't cloud what I knew for sure, and I took a deep breath and exhaled a whisper.

"Yes." I melted into the table.

"Are you sure?" He stammered.

"Yes, yes." My heart was strangling my breath.

His hands found my body again, and I curled my toes in my sneakers. I think he could make me come through massage alone.

He brought his hands to my shoulders and drew them along the sides of my body from the sides of my breasts to my ankles. It was quiet before, but then I could only hear the sound of our breath. He grabbed my hips and tucked his fingers into my waistband before running his hands across my whole body again.

He grabbed my hips again, and I moaned as his hard cock pressed against my side. Those shorts.

I rolled onto my side and tucked my fingers into his waistband. "Is this okay?" I smiled.

He nodded, and I climbed off the table leading him to the wall with one hand in his shorts and the other on his chest.

I was rubbing him over his shorts as I kicked off my shoes.

"No shoes?" He laughed.

I smiled, "Don't make fun of me."

"How about nothing at all?" I added.

I tugged at his shirt realizing that I'd never seen his full tattoo. As he pulled his shirt up over his head, I traced the design up from his bicep over his shoulder to his pec. Fuck.

I pulled off my shorts and quickly got to work on his. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but as I eased his shorts down over his cock I nearly kicked myself for not fucking him years ago.

I licked every inch of his cock, trying to size up how good my deep throat skills would be today. He untied my hair, and wrapped his fingers through it.

I reached one hand around his hips to grab his ass and used the other to hold the base of his cock. I pressed my chest against his legs and eased his entire length into my mouth.

I reached my free hand down between my legs, but I didn't need to feel to know how wet I was.

"Fuck, how do you want it?"

I kissed his hip and looked up, "I want to be in your mouth."

I stood up, and he grabbed my waist and guided me to the table. I laid back, and he reached under my legs to pull me towards him and folded my legs over his shoulders. I propped myself on my elbows, so I could watch him.

I expected him to tease me a bit, but thankfully he started licking my lips and massaging my clit right away. I know I'm a quick fuck, but I thought I was going to burst within a minute.

"Fuck me. Fuck me now." I moaned.

He stood up, and I sat up on the edge of the table. His cock was throbbing, and I guided him into me as I wrapped my legs around his hips. We kissed for the first time, and I could taste both of us.

He started stroking faster, and we were shaking the table. He grabbed my ass, and then I realized I was barely on the table because he had lifted me up. I could feel myself tighten around his cock.

"How can I make you come?" He demanded.

I touched his face with one hand and put two fingers into his mouth. I pinched my nipple with the other hand.

"Hold me tight, and keep going." I said reaching my wet fingers down to my now jelly-bean sized clit and hoping to god he wouldn't drop me.

He put one hand around my back and one on my ass and started bouncing me on his cock. I felt every inch of him, and I tightened around him until I closed in on the peak. He started moving with me towards the wall on shaky legs. He put his hand behind my head and pressed me up against the wall as I came.

I kissed him for a moment until I could find my legs again.

"Now how can I make you come?" I whispered into his neck.

He turned me around and bent me over the table and slid his cock into my now dripping pussy. He ran his hands up and down my back and then held onto my hips. With every stroke, he reached a new depth of me I didn't know I had.

"Fuck, M." He moaned.

I held onto the table as he came in three deep strokes.