I've been going to the gym a lot lately. Mainly because I'm under sexed and it's starting to turn into rage. My wife and I are both lesbians who have had our fair share of dildos and now have been craving the real thing. It's been our nightly pillow talk for months now. Don't get me wrong, we still please each other. But I know she needs to be bent over and fucked hard just as much as I do.
I arrive at the gym and find a punching bag in the far back corner and started to let out all this rage. I'm hitting this punching bag so hard I can feel the eyes staring at me. Idgaf at this point. If none of these men are bold enough to step up and bend me over, then they can all fuck off. I continue to try to destroy this punching bag. Before I complete my task I feel a tap on my shoulder and here someone say
"Damn Ali... you know that bag can't punch back"
Exhausted, but I still muster up a laugh and turn around to see the person brave enough to interrupt me while I'm clearly handling something.
After locking eyes with this beautiful man, 6'3 with caramel skin and covered in tattoos, I instantly turn my energy down. All the anger and aggression I had leaves my body. See I'm a masc woman, brown skin,5'7, slim fit and I look like I can hold my own. But I am very submissive when there is real dominance present.
I fumbled with my words a bit, but I finally say
"I, I just got some things I need to let out"
He turns up one eye looks at the bag partially dented and says
"Obviously"
A little annoyed at how long this conversation is going on, I say
"Are you here just to distract me or is there a purpose for this conversation"
"Aye I just wanted to know if you boxed"
I must've been fucking this bag up for this man to even to consider that I actually boxed. I respond
"Never actually"
"Wow that's hard to believe. You have a nice stance and great power behind that right hook"
"You must be a boxer" I say
"Not for awhile. I'm a trainer now and I'm actually interested in you coming to my gym and training"
"Listen I'm flattered but I'm going on 32. What business do I have boxing at this age"
"Aye you maybe 32 but that right hook is 19 with anger issues"
I chuckle but was inclined to take him up on his offer. I mean why not? This man was offering me a way to release all this frustration.
I arrive at his gym the following Wednesday. It's not extremely big so when I step in I instantly lock eyes with him. Something about the way he looks at me. It's like he sees past my tough exterior and realizes it's just a defense mechanism.
I go to wave at him and he instantly says
"You're late"
Surprised at his coach like response. I respond with
"This Atlanta traffic is no joke"
With the straightest of faces he says
"Sounds like an excuse go take 10 laps around the building for every minute you were late"
Confused I say "um okay"
He then says " you can add 5 more laps for not referring to me as Coach.