The Devil's Bargain Ch. 13

My walks with Freya had slowed considerably. We didn't go very far at all. Now I was the one who needed the exercise. I looked up gyms and fitness clubs in the area. The closest was the Fitness Centre, in my old neighbourhood. I didn't know if Monica was still a member there, but in any case, I needed a fresh start. I called the second closest, The Health Centre, and made an appointment.

The girl at the reception desk couldn't find me in their system. She had to make a phone call to ask someone else what to do. Just then a tall woman walked over to greet me.

- "Mr. Pilgrim?" She extended her hand. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting. My name is Gabrielle." She had a mild but definite French-Canadian accent, and she put a slight emphasis on her name.

I took her hand, even as three things struck me. First, she had to be six feet tall - and she was wearing running shoes. Second, her name tag clearly said 'Gabby' - yet she'd introduced herself as Gabrielle. Third, I had this weird feeling that I knew her from somewhere. Yeah - that's a great conversation starter: 'Have we met before?'

She had long, untidy brown hair, yet she hadn't resorted to a ponytail. Her face struck me as a composition of quarters: thick, untamed eyebrows, big brown eyes, a proud nose, and perfect lips - not too thin, but not too full, either. Each of those features stood out, but no single one dominated her face. If you must know, she reminded me immediately of Sue.

Gabrielle took me on the tour of the place. I saw squash and tennis courts, the weight room, stationary bikes, treadmills, and stair machines. Gabrielle waited outside while a male attendant showed me the locker room, saunas, whirlpool and steam rooms. I had no intention of using any of those, of course; I prefer to collect my bacteria the old-fashioned way - at a distance.

Gabrielle resumed the tour, and took me to see the running track, the swimming pool, and then the snack bar. She was completely professional, and yet quite personable. But there was something about her ...

- "I'm sorry." I said. "I don't think that we've met before, but there's something very familiar about you."

She gave me a half-smile. "Women's hockey."

It took me three more seconds to figure it out.

- "Gabrielle Lecuyer?"

- "Yes."

Wow. My tour guide had won a Gold medal at the Olympics (Beijing, 2022), as well as a Silver medal in South Korea (2018). She had also won a World Championship in 2021. The Covid epidemic had interfered with much of her career, but she was a celebrated hockey player. I'd actually seen her make a key shot block, and assist on a goal that helped win the Olympic final.

- "I've seen you play." I said. "On television, I mean. You were excellent."

- "Thank you."

She led me back through the facility, to her office. The door and the walls were made entirely of glass; it was a human fishbowl. The owners or operators of the club obviously wanted her to be seen. Inside, there was a collection of trophies and medals celebrating Gabrielle's athletic achievements in hockey, softball, volleyball, even soccer.

We sat on either side of her desk (a transparent pane of glass on legs), and she explained the terms of the membership contract and the rules of the club. It wasn't any different than the last fitness centre I'd been at. So I listened with one ear, and paid more attention to Gabrielle. There was something about her ...

She didn't seem bored (although she had to have made this presentation a hundred times before). She appeared to be interested in what I wanted, but ... my best guess was that her heart just wasn't in it. She seemed to be ... sad.

Maybe I was just over-sensitive, after the end of my relationship with Sue. I signed the requisite papers, and made arrangements for payment. She stood up, and offered me her hand.

- "I hope that you'll enjoy it here, Mr. Pilgrim."

- "I'm sure that I will. Thank you, Miss Lecuyer."

- "Gabrielle. Please don't hesitate to ask if there's anything I can help you with."

There was something mysterious about Gabrielle - and it wasn't just the name tag. I did a little investigating when I got home. There was a short web page devoted to her hockey career, which had ended four years ago. Covid had hurt, of course; the World Championships weren't played in 2018, and were cancelled in 2020. But Gabrielle's stay on the Women's National team was ended by a serious knee injury. After two surgeries, she still played hockey, but not at the same level. She was 34 now.

I found references to her softball career, and to her participation in a summer hockey camp for young girls. But one thing finally registered with me. Gabrielle's first language was French; she came from the Gatineau region. She'd played for a professional women's team in Montreal. What was she doing in Southern Ontario, working at a fitness club? Surely she could've done that closer to home.

Yes, I found her attractive. But I wasn't ready to simply use the magic phrases on her. I wasn't over Sue; that monumental disappointment was still fresh. I was also questioning my own judgment when I used Tansa's magic.

I saw her again at the club, once or twice. I said hello, the first time, and she surprised me by remembering my name.

- "Hello, Mr. Pilgrim. Are you finding everything you need?"

- "I am, Miss Lecuyer. Thank you."

She smiled. "I see. I'm the one who's being too formal. You can call me Gabrielle, and I'll call you Dan."

Yes. She was friendly, personable, and definitely sad. I can't quite explain why I did what I did next.

- "Ah - there was something that I did want to ask you about."

- "Okay." she said. She stepped closer, and tilted her head to listen.

- "Oh. Umm ... it's more of a ..."

She caught on right away. "In my office?"

- "If it's not too much trouble."

Gabrielle led the way. I had second thoughts (and thirds and fourths), but I ignored them. She closed the door of her glass cage behind us. Everyone nearby could see us, but hopefully they couldn't hear what I was about to say.

- "Is it okay here?" she asked.

- "Yes, thank you." I was unaccountably nervous. "This may sound strange, Gabrielle, but ... are you married?"

Was that a shadow that passed over her eyes? "No." she said. "Why do you want to know that?"

- "I want you - One."

Gabrielle smiled nervously. That wasn't ideal, but at least she wasn't gagging or retching.

"I want you - Two."

She didn't turn red. She simply nodded, as if she had heard and understood me. No boyfriend or serious relationship, then. Now was the moment of decision. Just a few weeks ago, I'd made a resolution to be more careful with the magic phrases. I'd used eight of my fourteen chances; only six remained. On impulse, though, I took the plunge.

"I want you - Three."

- "Oh." she said. She looked surprised.

- "Could I take you out for dinner Saturday night, Gabrielle?"

- "I'm sorry, Dan. I'll be at a softball tournament in Niagara Falls for the weekend."

- "Ah." She was still very active. "Would Tuesday night be better?"

It was. She gave me her phone number and her address, so that I could pick her up.

You may be wondering what I was thinking. Well, I will admit to a certain amount of impatience. I was already tired of being alone. Some companionship (and yes, sex) would be nice. But to tell the truth, I was equally motivated to find out what Miss Lecuyer was doing in my part of the world - and why she seemed to be so sad about it.

***

I kept it casual for our first date, taking her to an unpretentious little Greek restaurant. The food was good, and we shared a bottle of wine while I asked her about her softball weekend. I avoided steering the conversation towards hockey; I'm sure that everybody asked her about that.

- "Are you still in touch with many of your old teammates?"

- "A few. There are two who live near here - and one who plays in the same softball league. But we're on different teams now. It's a little competitive. Still friendly - but we're both out to win, you know?"

Gabrielle was neither vain, nor boastful. She wasn't a name-dropper, either. She was more interested in asking me questions. Part of that was simply good manners, but I'm sure that she was trying to figure out why she was so attracted to this non-athletic, much older man. She did seem pleased, though, to learn that I lived with my mother-in-law and a dog.

- "It's not as exciting as it sounds." I said.

- "It shows that you're loyal, and that you have a good heart, Dan. You don't have to joke about it."

I took the opportunity to ask about her family. That was a mistake: I could see her expression change.

"I don't see them very often." she said. "We're ... not as close as we used to be."

- "Is it because you live so far away?"

She looked down at the table.

- "Could we talk about something else?" she asked.

- "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

- "It's okay. I ... I'd just rather not talk about that. You had no way of knowing."

That's just it, though: I did know. I was probing, searching for the cause of her sadness, and I'd touched a very sensitive spot. I backed off, hurriedly looking for another topic of conversation. Like an idiot, I decided to tell her about my family.

I was thinking that it would get her off the hook; I'd be doing the talking, so no pressure, right? But I hadn't changed the subject very far. Dysfunctional family, parents and a sibling that I hadn't talked to in decades ... not good, Dan.

She listened to me, but I was sure that she was also thinking about her own situation, feeling her own pain, even as she shared mine. Gabrielle slowly reached out, and put her hand over mine.

- "I'm so sorry." she said.

- "Thank you." I said. "Now I'm sorry, too - for spoiling the evening."

- "You didn't."

- "I could have chosen a happier subject."

- "I'm glad that you told me." she said. She gave my hand a last squeeze, and removed hers.

Despite her protests, I knew that I had ruined our first date. I drove her home.

"Would ... would you like to come in?" she asked.

Good grief. After all of that, she wanted more? No - it was the magic. She was prepared to have sex with me, even after all of the old pain I'd made her revisit. I couldn't do that to her. I saw her to the door, but I wasn't going in.

- "Another time." I said. "I really do hope to get to know you ... much better."

I kissed her on the cheek, and she gave me a hug. That was the end of my first attempt to uncover the mystery behind Gabrielle Lecuyer.

***

Mom needed a lot of support. I took her to physical therapy, and got her a walker - persuading her to actually use it was a harder task. My neighbour Ron was helpful; he put me in touch with the right branch of social services, who arranged for a nurse to drop in during the day, when I was at work.

It wasn't that Mom needed medical attention, but the nurse could help her with her exercises (and make sure that she did them). More important, though, it gave Mom someone to talk to other than Sylvia, the cleaning lady.

Freya's decline was even harder to watch. It was like looking at Muhammad Ali, in his later years, when he was only a shell of what he'd once been.

It would have been a good time to have Lisa around, or even Brenda. Instead I had a work in progress: Gabrielle.

On our second date, I resolved to do everything backwards. Instead of getting close to her so that she would have sex with me, I would have sex with her so that she would let me get close.

I took her to an archery range. Little did I know that she was the female equivalent of Robin Hood.

- "You've done this before."

- "A few times." she admitted. "But it was a wonderful idea. I really enjoy it. Thank you." She surprised me by squeezing my arm, and then kissing me on the cheek.

I took her for a drink afterwards, where I had her compile an exhaustive list of sports and games that she was good at.

- "That's too long. How about the sports you're not good at?"

- "Hmm." She frowned. "Billiards. Oh, darts. I suck at darts."

- "Thank you. Now I know what our two next dates will be."

Gabrielle smiled. "You want to go out with me again? Twice?"

- "You know I do. And much more than that."

- "Oh." Her smile grew even wider.

This time, when she invited me in, I accepted.

Gabrielle was a great kisser. I lost myself, for a while. Time had no meaning. From the gleam in her eyes when we drew back to look at each other, I could see that she was equally surprised - or impressed.

We'd been on her couch. She stood up, and offered me her hand. Then she led me to her bedroom. It was surprisingly Spartan - I suppose that most of her trophies and medals were in safety-deposit boxes or secure storage sites. I noticed a few blank spots on the walls, where prints or framed photos had been removed. But I wasn't here to play detective - not tonight. This was all about discovering Gabrielle.

She had an amazing body. She was lean, as I'd expected, with strong shoulders and powerful thighs. But her belly was hard enough to bounce a dime off, and her breasts were perfectly round, capped with exquisitely hard little nipples.

Gabrielle had the next day off. I could call in sick. She deserved the very best night I could possibly give her.

She seemed to assume that the next step was for her to blow me. I quickly corrected that mistaken impression, putting her on her back, and slowly kissing my way up the inside of her leg.

- "Oh? Ohh ..."

It soon became apparent that Gabrielle had not been pampered enough. She seemed to consider cunnilingus as some sort of special treat - like a birthday present - rather than an essential part of foreplay. I filed away that little bit of information, and went back to pleasing my new lover.

She had extremely powerful legs, I discovered, as she nearly twisted my head off when she came. She wasn't loud, but that was because she had stuffed the edge of her duvet between her teeth. Gabrielle seemed almost embarrassed by her orgasm.

I crawled up on the bed, and lay beside her. Something about the expression on her face gave me a clue - I wrapped her in my arms.

- "You're wonderful." I said.

- "That was ... incredible." she whispered.

- "You deserve it. And many more."

- "Can ... can you stay the night?"

Bless her heart. "I can - but I have to look after my dog, early in the morning."

- "Will I meet your dog?"

- "Freya? Of course. And my mother-in-law. Whatever you want." I suspected that she was hoping to hear just a little more. "You're already a big part of my life, Gabrielle. I don't think that I can say no to you."

She kissed me, then - rather fiercely. And then Gabrielle fucked me. She used her hands and mouth to make sure that I was at full mast, and well lubricated, and then she climbed aboard.

Gabrielle was an enthusiastic rider, but her inexperience showed through. I don't mean that she hadn't had sex - she just hadn't been on top all that often. She was relentlessly driving, grinding and humping as she chased another orgasm. But she did it shyly, afraid to meet my eyes, or to hear me say 'stop'.

No, she wasn't a submissive. Not a true one, at least. But she was accustomed to letting her partner lead. Now she had the freedom to decide, but didn't quite know what to do with it. And that was just fine with me. We'd be doing this again. There would be plenty of opportunities for her to explore.

Her ride was a little disjointed - Gabrielle might be an athlete, but a dancer she was not. Still, she managed to bring herself off a second time, and then fell forward onto my chest, her breathing a little ragged. She buried her face in the pillow next to my head. She seemed slightly embarrassed - maybe she hadn't 'let go' like that for some time - if ever.

It took several moments for her to realize that my erect cock was still inside her. She lifted her head and looked at me. "You're still hard?"

- "Mm-hmm."

- "You didn't come?"

- "There's no hurry."

I had Gabrielle lie on her side, and lay behind her, spoon fashion. She moaned a little as I slowly entered her again. It's a surprisingly intimate position, even though we weren't face to face. Her body and mine pressed together for their full length - and she was a tall girl. I had a hand free, to caress her breast, her stomach, her hips and even her ass.

It seemed to be another new experience for Gabrielle. Her head fell onto the pillow as she gave herself up to the sensations. I sawed in and out of her at a very sedate pace. I could maintain that sort of movement for quite a while.

But I'd stirred something in her. Gabrielle twisted her body around, reaching behind my head with one arm and turning her head as she sought my lips with hers. She kissed me passionately, thrusting her tongue into my mouth.

That fired me up. I began driving into her faster, and harder, until I was pounding her ass with my pelvis. I was practically mauling her perfectly round breast. Her body was twisted around like a pretzel as she kept kissing me even while I was slamming into her from behind. Gabrielle groaned aloud as she came for the third time, and that easily sent me over the edge. I unleashed a torrent of semen inside her.

We were both a little winded, after that, but she turned around to face me. She reached up a hand to touch my cheek. And she smiled.

I thought that I'd seen her smile before. It turns out that those were her polite, friendly smiles. This one, though, stretched the corners of her mouth, and lit up her eyes.

- "That ... it's never been like that, for me."

I loved the look on her face, at that moment. I wanted to see it again.

***

Our third date went well; we talked about sex, mostly. Gabrielle wanted to know where I'd learned to ... do those things I'd done to her.

- "Me? That was mostly you!"

There was that smile again. "Don't tease me." she said.

- "I wasn't teasing. First off, you inspired me - that's just a fact. And then you were so passionate ... the way you were riding me. But I nearly lost control when we were making love spoon fashion, and you twisted around to kiss me. That was ... amazing."

Gabrielle was blushing. Most people (again, in my limited experience) don't talk nearly enough about sex. What do you like? What would you like to try? Gabrielle loved hearing that she'd rocked my world - it just wasn't a conversation she'd expected to be having.

We went back to her apartment. She found out that me going down on her was going to be a staple, and then we got a little crazy in the missionary position. She was still tremendously flexible, and her legs were just so damn long - she could wrap them all the way around me. I think that we were both on the verge of hyper-ventilating.

Afterwards, I was worried that I might have hurt her.

- "Is your knee okay? Did I ..."

- "No. I would have let you know right away. But you are a crazy man."

- "Then you must be a little bit crazy, too."

- "I think that I am." she said. "or I'm starting to be."

We re-hydrated, and recuperated. I decided to stay a little longer. We ended up on her bed, with me sitting down, legs spread, while she sat astride my legs. It wasn't the most intense position, and it was a lot of work for her slide forward and back. I could help, with my hands under her ass, but that wasn't entirely necessary.

Aarti had taught me this position. No pressure, no urgency - just a long, slow, very intimate fuck, face to face ... with no room for pretense - or secrets.

I started with the simplest, most obvious thing I'd noticed: the name tag.

- "Why do you wear a name tag that says 'Gabby'?" I asked her. "You obviously prefer to be called Gabrielle."