Valerie Finds Her Manbyescriterra©
Valerie Nicholls had found her motivation to work out regularly. His name was Connor, and he owned the gym that was incongruously tucked away behind an upscale European furniture store in what most people probably assumed was an area of tony shops and places where you paid four dollars for a small pastry that was wrapped up for you to take away in a small box tied with a ribbon.
At forty-two, Valerie had been divorced for six years and was content enough with her situation not to settle for less than what she wanted and needed in a mate. As long as her life included men---a variety---for good, toe-curling sex in the meantime (no strings, safe sex, relationship ended if the man wanted more but she knew he'd never be THE one), she continued to look for the long-term relationship she wanted. One reason this was taking a while was that in addition to a good supply of the lovely, satisfying yet inventive, male-female coupling that she so enjoyed and which was considered the norm, Valerie had discovered another erotic delight.
She adored fucking a man in the ass.
She savored finding the occasional male toy who enjoyed having her take control of his naked backside (though some of them would never admit their enjoyment, the way they arched their asses up for easy access and pushed back on the dildo when she buried her strapon into them told her otherwise). Some of these deliciously taboo sexual dalliances were with men who also acknowledged the pleasure they received when Valerie added spanking foreplay to the mix.
Sadly, though, these toys never measured up as potential life mates, and she only found them rarely: a Halloween party, a bar downtown populated by twenty-something metrosexuals, once at a bookstore when she noticed a guy browsing through a certain section of a used bookstore close to the local university.
But a man who possessed long-term potential---including a fondness for frequent, good ol' toe- curling lovemaking in what most people would call "normal"---AND who liked giving his naked asshole to Valerie for her pleasure as well as his own was not something she had not yet come across. Resigned that such a man was going to be exceedingly difficult to find, she contented herself with her life and kept hoping that at some point a new lover would also enjoy being her naughty little assboy on occasion, and she would no longer have to find the two kinds of sex in different lovers and playthings.
And so, Connor . . . it became her instant fantasy upon meeting this man that he would be the perfect lover, strong and a marvelous protector and mate, yet a man who could also abandon himself every now and then to a wanton desire to be naked, face down and ass up, and giving himself completely to Valerie as he squirmed back against her strapon while she slid the last inch deep into him.
In that fantasy, he growled out a low, deep groan that morphed into a higher-pitched, panting moan of wanton delight produced with each bottoming thrust of her strapon into his opened and eager asshole.
* * *
Like Valerie, the neighborhood where she lived was upscale. She had ignored the gym when she strolled on warm summer nights through this neighborhood shopping area. She, like other residents, owned a townhouse in the mixed-use development where an ecologically conscious developer had put together a neighborhood that allowed both living and shopping in an area where no car was needed to get to either place. She rode the light rail to her job in the financial district downtown and reserved driving her sensible yet comfortable sedan for getting to nearby malls, going to the city's cultural events, and so on.
And that's precisely why she walked into the gym that Saturday during an open-house that had been advertised in the townhome community newsletter. A job at a desk, sitting during her commutes, mostly curling up with reading material or TV guilty pleasures at home after work with her two cats all conspired to add some pounds she didn't want. Sex (when she got it) was at this point providing most of the physical workout in her life, and she wanted to get back to the toned body she'd had as a flag corps member with the university marching band during her undergraduate days.
"Hi, I'm Connor Washington. I own the gym, and we'd love to have you take advantage of a six- week introductory package with no commitment and which only costs $50."
She liked him instantly. She guessed his age at forty-five, but because he obviously stayed in shape, maybe he was older. Certainly the gray creeping into the hair around his temples might mean he was older than a cursory inspection would indicate. He had expressive brown eyes and a warm smile full of white teeth set off by boyish dimples at the sides of his mouth. Because he was in gym clothes for the open house, she noted his muscular arms, trim waist, and powerful legs. As Conner gave her a tour of the facilities, her quick glances at his ass, nicely curved underneath the cotton shorts he was wearing, told Valerie that she would find the firm, rounded and meaty globes of his gym-trained butt as endearing and attractive as his boyish smile.
That is, if she ever got the chance to bend him over, plant her hands on those sexy glutes, and pry him open to gaze at his hidden treasure which she would own for viewing, fingering, licking, and ultimately, for her strapon pleasure.
She signed up without hesitation, noting with anticipation that Mr. Washington was not wearing a wedding ring.
But the first evening she hurried to the gym from the train station after work, she was disappointed to find him absent. She found a tactful way to inquire about his absence without creating the impression she might be interested in him.
"Oh, Mr. Washington comes in to open the gym in the mornings," said the trainer who came with the introductory package in order to show newbies how to use the weight machines. "He works out most mornings right after he opens up and until the morning guy comes in. Then he heads to his job with that sports management firm; you know, that granite building a couple of miles north of here on the expressway with their name across the top?"
"But I thought he owned the gym," Valerie said as she settled into the seat of the lat pull-down machine.
"He does," said the 30ish brunette with a ponytail as she adjusted the poundage on the weight stack. "I guess he made some good money as an agent or something, and he invested some of it in opening this place. But he still keeps his day job.
"Oh," said Valerie, hiding her disappointment at this evening's missed opportunity.
On her way out she made sure to verify opening time as printed on the placard next to the door.
It was going to mean getting up at an ungodly hour for her, but the sacrifice---both for getting back the body she wanted and for getting Connor---was worth it. Valerie re-arranged her schedule and planned for six weeks' worth of early mornings and getting to bed much earlier than usual.
The next morning she got to the gym shortly after opening time and found the door unlocked and the "morning guy" at the reception desk working on the computer. She saw Connor in the gym behind the double glass doors to the right, and she hurried to the women's locker room.
Moving quickly to get into her workout gear---she didn't want to risk other gym goers being in the gym to interpret any conversation she might have with Connor as hitting on him---Valerie laced up her cross-training workout shoes and bounded up the stairs to the gym.
He was at the Smith machine, a barbell with impressive weights across his back, and he was descending to the bottom of a squat, back arched and butt thrust back in what Valerie remembered from her introduction to the gym machines was the proper form for squats.
My very lucky day, thought Valerie as Connor pushed himself up with a grunt. Doing so pinched some of the cotton material on the back of his shorts up in between his cheeks, where it remained until his next descent to the bottom of the following squat.
Oh, my. This is an EXTREMELY lucky day, Valerie thought, drinking in the sight of Connor's powerful legs and rounded ass working through his squat routine.
And no one else was yet in the gym.
Fearing that he would see her staring at his gorgeous ass, Valerie chose a machine at an angle and behind Connor's current workout so he wouldn't notice in the mirror in front of the machine how much she was enjoying the view. She made up all manner of time-wasting activity (a drink from her water bottle, adjusting her shoe, smoothing out the towel on the seat of the machine) to allow her to take in the fantasy-inspiring sight: Connor Washington, back arched and butt thrust out, followed by the ntoxicating aftermath in each repetition which was his gym shorts riding up into the furrow between his cheeks, smoothing the material tautly across the rounded globes of his delicious butt.
Why had no producer of visual erotica for women ever filmed a scene like this? she thought.
Disappointingly, Connor finally racked the barbell on the machine and collapsed into a seated position on a nearby workout bench. He was gasping for breath and bent over with his forearms on his thighs as he recovered.
Valerie continued, finally settling into position on the weight machine's seat.
"Oh, Miss Nicholls," said Connor, finally looking up from his bout of exhaustion, "you're definitely jumping in right away to the introductory package." He wiped beads of perspiration from his face with a towel.
"Didn't make sense to procrastinate," she smiled.
"Well, if you come this early every time, there shouldn't be many wait times for any of the machines. We don't get a lot of real early-morning traffic. Things pick up around 6:45 or so, though," he said, rising from his seat and moving to the rack of dumbbells against the wall.
"Good to hear," she answered. "I'm eager to get into a focused circuit that will tone and burn fat."
Valerie didn't much know what that meant---the trainer at her session the night before had used the phrase. It was a calculated comment, hough. She wanted Connor to know she was serious about being in the gym.
He gave her a surprised smile as he picked up a pair of dumbbells. "Good for you!" With no more than that, he stepped to a spot on one end of an aisle between machines and began a series of steps forward and dips down to bring one knee to the floor before rising to advance with the other foot.
Valerie later learned these were walking split-squats. It didn't matter what they were called. Connor's blue shorts were once again a delightful focus of her gaze, though this time her glances had to be furtive and careful not to let him know she was looking at him.
But what happened after his walking squats instantly converted Valerie into a gym rat. Connor replaced the dumbbells, wiped the sweat from his forearms and face, and walked quickly to the leg curl machine. After setting the weight he wanted, he laid face-down on the bench and adjusted himself so the lift bar was where he wanted it at the bottom of his calves.
And then, Valerie stared openly (Connor's eyes were squeezed shut as he concentrated on the exercise and lifting the heavy weight, so she didn't worry that he would see her). When he began each repetition, his butt would rise up with the effort as his hamstrings and glutes contracted against the weight. As he worked the entire range of motion, his butt remained high until briefly lowering at the end of the downstroke before once again rising as his round globes contracted for the next effort.
God, thought Valerie, this is going to be replayed in my mind tonight at home after work.
Tonight, however, she would be rolling her hardened and slippery clitoris underneath her fingers as the movie in her mind played in glorious color in her imagination. One difference, though, between what she was so enjoying right now and what would be her mental movie this evening, was that Connor Washington would be completely naked as he starred in her private mental screening.
The movie would become a favorite in the next few days, she suspected, with endless variations. Connor face-down on that bench, naked, laboring to lift the weight as Valerie laid both hands on his naked ass to feel his muscular glutes. Maybe she would slap his ass at the bottom of a repetition: "You're not working hard enough, Mr. Washington. These cheeks must be worthy of my affection when I spread them apart to look at your naked asshole," followed by his quiet whimper before he redoubled his efforts to prove how eager he was to have her do it to him.
Yes, Valerie was enjoying the scene before her and was recording all the details in her mind to make her private time with the fantasy as exciting as possible.
And then she heard something. It was arousing. Connor was working really hard to get the weight up, and sometimes when he exerted himself at the very start of a repetition---which pushed his butt up into the air---he made this sound, something like a cross between a grunt and a moan. He was quiet, and he probably didn't even realize he was doing it.
But Valerie remembered with fondness and excitement just that kind of sound made by a man whom she had initiated into strapon sex. The guy was so conflicted: he obviously loved getting screwed in the ass, but he would never admit it. He even played some silly game with her about denying it ever happened. But that one time it did, his quiet moans when she slid her fake cock deep into him, withdrew and then slid home again, were incredibly arousing.
Would Connor make noises like he was making now when she fucked him in the ass?
Too soon for Valerie, this morning's in-person show ended.
Or maybe it ended just in time. Much more of watching Connor's ass would very probably increase the moistness between her legs to the point that it would become apparent in the crotch of her workout shorts.
"Leg days are always the hardest," Connor said to her as he toweled off and gathered up his water bottle and workout notebook. "The big muscles in the legs and backside, though, burn the most calories. You gotta keep them strong and firm in order to rev the ol' metabolism."
"Umm," was all Valerie managed as she sagged against the back of the machine's inclined bench and seat. Watching Connor walk out of the gym, she was more exhausted by the frustration of being so aroused and unable to do anything about it than by a physical workout.
Pausing to collect herself, Valerie filed all the sights away in her mental memory bank: Connor's smile and pleasant demeanor. Connor's taut asscheeks as he ascended from the bottom of his squats. Connor's raised butt as he labored his legs upward during his leg curls.
Then she threw herself into a vigorous workout of her own to rev metabolism and burn fat.
It was a good workout, and the fact that she came in so early meant that she had time before her shower to spend a few minutes in the women's sauna, her head leaned back against the smooth wood as beads of sweat dripped down her face.
One hand was innocently placed underneath the towel on her lap. With her legs slightly open she was able to stroke her damp pussy as she played a trailer in her head of the movie she would luxuriate in that evening.
A quick mini-orgasm later, she headed to the shower and prepared herself for what she knew would be a distracted day at her job, diddling with numerical figures when what she really wanted was to diddle with Connor's figure.
* * *
Their conversations continued for the next three weeks on the several days each week that Connor worked out. (Valerie quickly discovered his schedule: Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, with weights, and Saturdays for cardio on the treadmills or stairclimbers.) He was pretty focused on working out (a necessity, he said), but he was always pleasant and really seemed to be interested in Valerie when they chatted away from the weights and the machines.
She let him know in ways other than words that she was interested and available. Done in a very classy manner, of course. It wouldn't be long, Valerie knew, before he would ask if she'd like to get together.
But all this was before that fateful Wednesday morning.
It was the day before Thanksgiving. Realizing his dedication to his workouts, Valerie knew Connor would be there that Wednesday morning. And so would she, as usual.
When she got there, though, Connor was on the phone at the front desk instead of the gym, and there was no sign of the usual morning worker that tended to things as Connor and Valerie worked out (along with the occasional early bird gym member who intruded sometimes, though those instances were rare).
He hung up the phone at the desk just as she walked through the door. He read her surprised expression.
"Jeremy's sick, Kristin is already away for Thanksgiving, and Marsha can't get here until 8 AM due to getting her kids to school," Connor explained. "Every so often personnel issues like this come up." He smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
"Is this a problem? Do I need to leave?" Valerie truly hoped not. This might actually be a chance to be alone with Connor in the gym.
"No, no. Of course not," he said, writing something on a small whiteboard before moving around the desk toward the door with the small sign in his hand. Looking over his shoulder as he clipped the sign into the holder on the back side of the glass door, he smiled pologetically. Then he locked the door.
Valerie liked that.
"You know we don't get much traffic early in the morning, and the day before Thanksgiving I'd wager we won't get any, Valerie. If you're okay with it, the sign says to ring the bell to be let in while we work out. Without someone at the desk, though, I want to ensure this is a safe environment for you."
He looked at her with his lovely brown eyes. "Is that good with you?"
"Sure, Connor. Go ahead and get changed, and I'll just get right into my workout." She smiled at him, a slight tingle running up her spine.
Maybe it was because he knew they were completely alone, but Connor seemed more relaxed with her this morning as they worked out. Makes sense, thought Valerie. He wouldn't want to hit on me when his employees or other gym members are here.
He asked her out as he lingered at the incline bench where she was doing biceps curls when he'd finished his workout. A lunch date. Safe, not pressing, not rushing. Classy.
Valerie finally got that warm feeling in her tummy that she had so much been anticipating.
Then he was gone through the gym door to head down to the men's locker room.
And it took Valerie only two more curls to realize the possibilities at hand.
No one else in the gym.
The gym locked.
Connor stripping naked only a few yards from where she sat.
Most importantly, if the men's locker room had the same layout as the ladies' locker room, Valerie knew there was an alcove designed as a stand-up counter in front of a mirror with a hand-held hair dryer mounted on the wall. Its most important feature, though, was that someone standing there could see the shower stalls without being seen by anyone taking a shower, obviously a design flaw overlooked by the architect.
For her purposes, though, what could be more convenient?
She rose quickly and rushed out the gym and tread quietly down the stairs to the men's locker room. With luck, knowing no one else was in the gym, Connor wouldn't have bothered to pull a shower curtain across the stall opening where he would be showering.
Valerie held her breath as she silently moved into position, delighted to find the same layout inthe men's locker room as in the ladies'.
Congratulating herself for her acumen---but only for the first moment or two because the sight before was breathtaking---Valerie settled against one side of the alcove in order to be a guilt-free voyeur indulging herself with a show about which she had dreamed since the first day she met Connor Washington.