Author's Note: As usual, a long slow backstory begins this opus. If that's not your thing, just stop reading now. I put this story in the BDSM category, but there is definitely more submission and less bondage than most of my stories.
My name is Alexis and I am a trophy wife. No, that wasn't my life's ambition and honestly, I didn't want to admit it at first, but in truth, my marriage was more of a business arrangement than love. You see, I am 34 years old and my husband is 56 and wealthy. People would say I married for money whether I admit it or not, but when you hear my story, maybe you will understand.
First off, I am a nymphomaniac. I first admitted that in college. From the moment I lost my virginity, I knew I loved sex. Not only the physical act and the endorphin rush from orgasm, but also the attention men gave me, especially since I learned from the first time I gave a blowjob that having a hard cock in my mouth was a huge turn-on. Not that I didn't like it when a guy went down on me, but just having him in my mouth for a couple of minutes made my pussy get wet enough to fuck. When I left home for college, it is safe to say I was more excited about being out from under my parent's watchful eyes than about the education aspects. That's not to say I was a bad student. It's just fucking was my real major and I juggled multiple boyfriends while I pursued my physical education degree.
Being a Southern California girl (San Diego) growing up meant I spent a lot of time at the beach and in the gym, so doing physical fitness as a career seemed like a good choice. I'm about 5' 5" tall and very lean. I am toned, muscular (although not like a bodybuilder) and cardiovascularly strong. I could easily outlast any of my partners in bed. The only thing I lacked was large boobs. Growing up I didn't have the reserve fat levels to really have them develop. But my nipples were exceptionally sensitive and I gladly would exchange the pleasure of nipple play for some guy mauling larger breasts. But I digress.
In college it was easy to find men to fuck 4 or 5 nights a week. After graduation... It was still pretty easy. But I needed this thing called money and I quickly learned my degree was not exactly a big cash cow. I worked at a gym and did personal training on the side. The pay was bad as lowly gym staff, but at least the side gig doing personal training made up for it and I didn't have to worry about being homeless. The gym closed at midnight, although we locked the door at 11pm. By then, people were just finishing up their workouts and hitting the showers. The manager was always gone and I or one of the guys that worked there had the late shift to lock up. That also meant I had time to workout at night. The manager didn't mind if I worked out after about 10 as long as the customers were taken care of and I clocked out on time.
I was still maintaining a stable of friends with benefits to take care of my other physical needs. I always made it clear that I had no desire to be in an exclusive relationship. I was perfectly happy to be their side piece provided he demonstrated skills in the bedroom. But some nights, especially when I worked the late shift, none of my guys were available. I guess that is the downside to being non-exclusive. If I was at the gym, after it had cleared out, I would finish my shift by riding one of the exercise bicycles. Specifically I would choose one of the upright style bikes with a small seat that I could tip the front upright. Thirty minutes riding the bike rubbing my pussy on the front of the seat always left me as a dripping mess. I would then head to the employee locker room where I kept a dildo and bullet vibe in my bag for just such an occasion. If I was especially horny, I mean, I was always horny, but if I didn't get laid the day before, I sometimes started my bike routine before the other patrons had left. Leaning over the handlebar and grinding myself on the seat, I knew the guys would be watching, but I found that exciting. I never fucked a guy at the gym. I think management would frown on that. But it was exciting to think about it. I imagined some strong guy watching me masturbate on the bike and then after the gym cleared out, lifting me down to the floor and fucking me.
For a decade, that was my life. Work, sex, food, sex, sleep, sex and occasionally cleaning my apartment and doing laundry. I knew marriage wasn't my thing as I had yet to find someone willing to accept my need for sex meant one guy likely couldn't satisfy me. Maybe I just had not found the right guy yet. While my friends with benefits were happy to stay casual, none of them were marriage material. Then I met Charles. No it wasn't love at first sight. In fact, he was just another personal training client. Most of them started with me just to be able to look at me when I helped them work out. Charles was 22 years older than me. Although he was in pretty good shape for his age, I really didn't do the whole "daddy" thing and immediately dismissed him as a potential partner. But it turns out, he really was just hiring me to help him get in shape.
Charles owned a very large and very successful commercial building company. He explained that when he worked more in the field as he built his company, he got a solid workout as a by-product. But now, as an executive, finding time to get to the gym was tough, especially since he frequently traveled around the country for meetings and to monitor build sites. I asked him if he used the gyms in his hotels and he admitted that he tried, but didn't necessarily know what he was doing and needed help understanding what he should be doing when he was on the road.
"You should be fucking more, It builds muscle tone." I quipped before I realized I said that.
That was entirely inappropriate to say, especially since we had just met. But he didn't seem upset and even replied, "Is that how you stay so toned?"
I laughed that off as a joke instead of him hitting on me. "Yes, but also working in a gym helps." I replied.
"You're a lot like my wife," was his next reply. I let the conversation drop and got focused back on our session.
I can always tell when someone is serious about their fitness and Charles definitely was genuinely trying to get in better shape. His travel schedule meant our sessions together didn't have a consistent schedule, but I always looked forward to his call arranging our next appointment. We talked about all sorts of things during our workouts. He had traveled the world, was a father to twins (fraternal twins, a boy and a girl) and definitely could hold a conversation better than my boy toys. I still didn't want to fuck him, but I felt like we became friends. I even confessed my horizontal workout routine to him. He snickered at that and reminded me that I had recommended he have more sex when we first met. He also reiterated that his wife, Sheila, was a lot like me. I wondered if he was hitting on me trying to get me into bed with them, but that subject never came up.
Over the next couple of months, our flirtations got more flirtatious, but still he never made an explicit offer to fuck me or get me in bed with his wife. I enjoyed the attention, although in a way, it was like he was teasing me. I know I had said he was too old for me, but that position was softening a bit. After one session, he showed me a picture of Sheila and she was stunning, although I thought her augmented breasts were a mistake because they took attention away from her beautiful face. But whatever. He claimed showing me the picture was because he was trying to get her to go to the gym more often and suggested that I work with her. From the look at her picture I could tell she did a lot of cardio and she didn't look like she needed help figuring out a workout routine. But I was always one to earn more money so I told him I would be happy to meet with her.
Alas, that never happened. She was killed by a drunk driver who was coming home from a Christmas party. Fortunately nobody else was in her car. I was heartbroken when Charles told me the news. He had come into the gym in street clothes instead of changing to tell me he would be canceling our sessions for a while. I understood and immediately hugged him. I couldn't imagine the pain his family was going through. I told him if there was anything I could do to help, to please let me know. I didn't mean sexually. I was thinking more like food shopping or giving him or the kids someone to talk to, but upon further reflection, if he took it as a sexual offer, I might have consider accepting.
I did go to the wake. That was when I met his kids, Jimmy and Christine. They seemed to be handling their grief very well. So was Charles, at least publicly. Charles introduced me as his personal trainer. Jimmy looked me up and down. That made me feel uncomfortable, but I said nothing. We didn't really talk as the wake was well attended and the three of them had to greet everyone.
I thought that might be the last time I saw Charles. Indeed it was for a couple of months. After New Years is always a busy time at the gym as people always show up trying to make good on their promise to get into shape. As a result, I'm work lots of overtime and sign up a lot of personal trainer clients until they give up. While the money is good, my need for sex goes largely unfulfilled except for my fingers and toys. I always volunteer to close the gym because I need time for my workout and my "special" bike rides. It was during one of those rides that Charles made his return.
It was a Wednesday night and I had not been laid since Sunday. That was not good. My boy toys were all busy and I was seriously thinking about just going to a bar after work to let myself get picked up. It was hump day after all. That wasn't my preferred method of sexual release (I preferred my FWBs) but I was getting desperate. The gym had emptied out by 9:30 with the exception of Billy, one of the other trainers. You would think I would just offer myself to him, but I had a strict rule about not fucking other employees (I liked my job and didn't want to risk getting fired) and Billy had a girlfriend and he didn't seem like the kind of guy who would cheat. It's too bad though, because he was very handsome. He left at 10 telling me he would lock the door behind him. That meant I was free to hump the bike seat for a while until I decided where in the gym I wanted to get off.
I thought of Billy while I ground my pussy on the bike seat and imagined him bending me over the reception desk. Or maybe he would take me to the desk in the office. I was quickly getting aroused. Usually I get off the bike and finish with my fingers on a weight bench or sitting on a chair, but I could tell my orgasm was building and I knew I would soon climax on the bike. I even let go of one handlebar to rub my nipples through the thin tank top I was wearing. I was moaning loudly as there was nobody there to hear me. I'm sure I made quite a sight as I humped the seat, faster and faster. Then I heard the cough of someone clearing his throat. My body instantly froze, except for my head, as I turned to look at who could me in this incriminating position. As I said before, Charles was the person who caught me. At first, I couldn't process how he got in through the locked door. Strangely that was my concern more than the fact that he was watching me. My nipples and pussy also didn't seem to understand that getting caught should have killed my arousal.
"Don't stop on my account," Charles said.
"What are you doing here?" I asked breathlessly, trying not to accept his invitation to continue masturbating in front of him.
"I wanted to talk to you about starting up our training sessions again," he replied. "I arrived as Billy was leaving and he was nice enough to let me in since we know each other. But as I see you humping that bike, I might have a business proposition for you as well."
