Two big beautiful muscular woman's butt cheeks were pushed back towards my face. Dripping with sweat, they glistened under the gym's strip lighting.
"Load another 20 lb. dumbbell on each end of the bar honey," said Rachel, squat lifting 200 lbs.
"Ok Miss McLish, right away ma'am," I replied with a hoarse nervous stutter, aware of the iron hard mass forming in my shorts.
For the last two weeks I had been working as a personal assistant to Miss Rachel McLish, the one-time famous, lady body-building champion and actress, who was in the UK making a 'sword and sorcery' film on location in Southern England. My duties included driving her, ordering and serving her food in her personal trailer, and just doing whatever it was she required. The work was fine, most of the time I just idled around the set, drinking coffee and chatting with the film crew, but man, one thing was sooooo hard for me: stopping myself making a hopeless move on this muscle clad brunette beauty, to say I had the hots for her was an understatement, every time I checked out her body I felt virtually on fire.
Rachel and I got on well from the start, more than well as it happens, we just sort of clicked in a friendly way, always fooling around off set in the gym or in her trailer. I thought, however, that because of her Christian principles, and her husband back in America, that there was no chance of anything more, well, that proved to be wrong – in the most delightful of ways.
Yesterday, in the gym, our friendship changed. Rachel was doing her workout, and as usual I was assisting her, basically loading up weights on the various apparatus, handing her towel to her and getting drinks. As always I was lost in admiration gazing longingly at her taut muscular body, particularly her butt, which was big, firm, round, mmmmm. The gym was deserted apart from us; after all, it was 10pm in the evening, a time when only an obsessive or a pro would work out. Watching Rachel manipulating the weights had me in a fever, no more so than when she lay face down on a bench and did reverse thigh curls. Oh God, that butt, it was too much.
Suddenly, Rachel reared up and turned to face me, a snarl on her sculpted face: "You goddamn limey bastard, you've been leering at my butt," she shouted, "what," I replied, confused," I don't understand."
"Oh, really," she replied, "look honey I saw you in the mirror, don't deny it, and look at the goddamn bulge in your shorts." I glanced down, and sure enough, my dick was sticking out at a near 90-degree angle. Feeling myself flush beetroot red, I stared miserably at the floor. Oh well, I thought, shit, looks like another job search for me then. There was no use in denying it so I fronted up: "Look, I'm sorry Miss McLish, I understand that you are angry, I will make no excuse, your butt just turned me on so much, I'll leave now."
I turned to go and trudged towards the exit door. "Wait honey, it's ok, really, come back." I turned and saw that Rachel's face had lost its snarl and that there was now a gentle smile across her face. I walked toward her and raised my hands above my head in a submissive manner. "Does this mean I'm not fired then Miss McLish," I asked. Rachel giggled, in a surprisingly schoolgirlish type of way. "Honey that sure ain't the first case of 'gym-pecker' that I've caused, and I hope it's not the last. Now get your clothes off and let me check you out!"
