Tammy the Trainer

Tammy was leaning on the workout bar, one glistening leg over the top of it. Teresa and Bonnie were alongside, panting out their exhaustion with her.

"Shit," she said, "that was really hard today."

I said to the three of them, "There's only four days to go and you have to have two days of rest. Keep those legs up there, you need to stretch."

Toby handed me a bag of ice and the two of us ran it up and down, cooling off the hot flesh, then wiping it down and toweling off. Bonnie rebelled when I dug oily fingertips in deep.

"Grant! You're killing me!"

I backed off. This was one of the nicer parts of my job. There were six world class female legs in front of us. Hard, muscular, smooth. Not an ounce of fat.

They are representing our studio in the Ms. Fitness USA contest and have made it all the way to the semi-finals this weekend. Toby and I are the co-owners of the studio and also helping them follow their training programs.

It's an interesting path that got us to this next-to-last workout before the big performance. One morning last fall, Tammy walked in and asked for a job. Said her free lance personal trainer business was in the tank.

Toby got her a cup of coffee and sat her down at our office table. Fifteen minutes later, she knew as much as we did about the lousy state of fitness in Brooklyn. There not only wasn't a job for her, Toby and I had been living on fumes for months. Actually, before she came in that morning, we were trying to figure out how to hang on to our studio. The landlord was nice, but we were three months behind on the rent and he was sounding grim about kicking us out. "Guys," he said, "I have to make a living too."

Tammy stood up and said, "Hey, I have some ideas. But first, I need to show you my new workout routine that is going to put your studio on the map."

She whipped off her t-shirt and wrap skirt to reveal this incredible body. Bending over to get shoes from her duffel gave us a close up view of a world class ass. She had her own mix tape which she plugged into the sound system and started.

"Ok, you are the first customers for the new routine, let's get going."

Twenty minutes later, Toby and I were on the floor, gasping and hurting. As the music faded, she leaned over, dripping sweat on us, and said, "You got a shower here?"

We had a unisex shower because we didn't do coed classes. She dragged us in there and took her own outfit off and threw it on the floor. The package was even better. She soaped us, and we soaped her.

"I'm glad you've at least got proper size dicks," and got down on her knees. Pretty quick, both of us were shooting most of the way across the shower.

"I don't swallow, and I don't fuck management." She had the sweetest, most devilish smile I had ever seen.

I pulled her up with her back to me and wrapped my big hands around her jugs. Tammy not only had a terrific butt, she had great tits. Perfectly matched to her body. Not too big, not too small. High and firm. Nipples that liked to hide and then pop out at the right moment. Toby and I are not unacquainted with the female body, but we were drooling.

Over lunch, which she said was on us because she was giving out so much free advice, not to mention all the action in the shower, Tammy laid out the game plan. About every thirty seconds, she had another wild idea that froze Toby and me with our forks halfway to our mouths. She hailed the waitress, "Bring us two beers, ice tea is not doing it for my friends."

I'll spare you the details, but the whirlwind had us back in the black in a month, and actually putting her on the payroll the month after that. "I'm going to work for peanuts, because one of these days, in a moment of weakness, you are going to make me a partner." She laughed at our open mouths.

For once, the two of us had an idea she liked. There was an annual Ms. Fitness USA contest. Nobody in Brooklyn knew about it, much less trained for it. I had one of our customers who was a graphic artist sketch out a poster. At the top, in bold black, was "TRAIN HERE," matched at the bottom by the same letters saying "MS FITNESS USA." In between, over graphics of attractive women in workout clothes, were the details. The training program would be ten weeks, three times a week for an hour. The cost was $500. Anyone who placed in any of the contest categories would get their money back. In prominent cursive blue was a line that said the Chief Trainer would be Ms. Tammy Swartz.

She looked at it, then squinted at us. "You mean this? No shit?"

A few seconds later, she followed up with, "Can I be the Chief Trainer and enter too?"

Toby and I looked at each other, trying to figure out if that was going to create problems.

"If the clients don't mind, it's fine with us."

While the poster was being printed, Tammy did some research. A couple of mornings later, she came in with her coffee and said, "Guys, that contest had some incredible babes in it last year. I mean seriously kickass broads. It's like ice skating, you do a required routine, and then you do a free dance routine. And to get to the finals, you have to do a qualifying round of strength exercises that fails 90% of the contestants!"

While we digested that, she continued, "I think I can get to the finals, but the trick will be getting some of our women to the finals. If we don't, everyone will think we conned them out of their money to send me there."

The marketing campaign was simple, we blanketed the neighborhood, and bought ads on fitness sites. Walk ins started immediately. Most of the women were obviously not going to get very far in the qualifying meets, but we were very encouraging. Tammy told us we weren't lying, who knew whether any of these females would get religion and really shape up.

Classes started when we had thirty signups. Surprisingly, more joined after some of our regulars watched a session. We gave them all a chance to pay us $50 a week, hoping there weren't too many dropouts. Tammy was merciless and full of guile. For the first several sessions, she concentrated on whole body exercises, building core strength, and beginning the dance routines. By the second week, after she had the class hooked on how nice it was training for the contest, she began the transition to serious workouts that left everyone totally wiped at the end of the hour. By the third week, she had women crying on her shoulder that they just couldn't take it anymore.

Tammy showed some genius in dealing with the potential dropouts. She arranged a private session with each one over coffee at the neighborhood cafe, probing for motivation, lifestyle and other clues that would expose the inner athlete/contestant. Sometimes, when she got down inside, there was nothing there. These girls got offered a chance to convert their contest training fee into a year's club membership. Sometimes, she found a spark of competitiveness that needed encouragement, and she worked them back into the training program.

The first qualification round saw twenty-five entries from our program and fifteen made it through to the next level. After workouts the next week, the studio held a party for the ten who didn't make it. With a couple of glasses of wine, the losers were smiling through their tears and hugging the husbands and boyfriends who had come with them. It looked to Toby and me that the energy that didn't quite make it in the fitness contest was going to keep ten beds bouncing that evening.

The contest was arranged so that the forthcoming state, regional and national rounds were four weeks apart. Tammy had her first coaching session after class in the week following the local qualifications. Making a show of telling Toby and me to get lost, she told them it was time to get serious about the competition. Everyone in the room groaned when they realized the bar had just been raised. Tammy also handed out sheets covering training diets and healthy lifestyle. The two of us heard her talk from a hidden mike that was on a speakerphone in the office. Towards the end, she said, "I want to tell you something that is not on those sheets. You are healthy females who need an outlet for your sex drive. If you are not getting laid several times a week, I want you to find someone to fuck and get busy. You need the release that a good orgasm gives you. It will improve your performance in class and in the qualifying rounds. If you have any questions, please see me privately. "

The women all walked out silently, absorbing this new advice. Tammy walked into the office and asked, "How did I do?"

She had warmups on and looked fantastic. Toby looked at me and then at Tammy and all he could say was, "Who's fucking you several times a week?"

Tammy grinned and laughed, "So, you liked the talk but you want to know am I taking my own advice?"

She went on, "Since when do you two studs get the details of my sex life?" She started stripping in front of us. Soon the body that impressed us last fall was impressing us more right there.

"Come on, let's hit the showers. I want to talk to you about something."

We stood under the hot water, soaping each other. She explained that she was married for a year to a guy who turned out to be a jerk. Fortunately, she divorced him before there was a baby. After that, she moved in with a woman she knew in school, who was also divorced. One drunken night they discovered each other, and that was her sex outlet. Until now. She stroked our hard cocks and kissed us both. Deep, wet hot kisses. She pulled our fingers into her crotch and told us to get busy.

Before things got too frantic, she turned off the water, led us back into the office and told us her news.

"We are going to have an experiment. From now to the end of the contest, you two are going to have sex with me three times a week. I'm still going to have sex with my roommate, but I want to find out if having real cocks in me makes a difference. I've gone on the pill, so you don't have to run out and buy condoms. Are you ready to start now? Remember, this is fucking, not loving."

She looked down at our super hard erections and had her answer. She reached into her purse and pulled out a bottle of lotion. "You can start out by rubbing this into me all over."

Toby and I had been standing there like a couple of teenagers, taking everything in. Our brains were scrambled, but fortunately our cocks and our hands knew what to do. After a few minutes of four hands working her over, Tammy began to let out some low moans and leaned over the edge of my desk. I gestured to Toby to go first while I gently massaged her stiff nipples and firm tits.

He sank slowly into her quivering snatch, not sure she would be happy. As he bottomed out, a low voice said, "Yes. Good. More."

It wasn't long before the moans got louder and higher in pitch. I watched Toby getting into his stride, the big purple shaft thrusting harder and harder into her pulsing sex. I leaned over and kissed her on the back of her neck, my teeth gently nipping at her skin.

"Oh shit," she shouted, and came violently. Her climax pushed Toby over and he spurted hard into her. The two of them clutched each other, coming down from a great fuck.

I got a wet towel and tossed it to them. "Tammy, that was quite a show. You are one hot hot woman." I smiled at her flushed face. She collapsed in a chair on top of her shower towel. Toby was mopping between her legs.

"Damn, that was better than I thought it was going to be." She hugged and kissed Toby. "A lot better." She looked at me, my prick as hard as ever, "That still needs some relief, doesn't it?"

I thought about saying it was ok if she didn't want me today. My cock twitched and I realized he didn't think it was ok to wait. I sat down in an armless chair and said, "Get over here, woman."

Her eyes widened as she realized there was going to be another round, whether she wanted it or not. Toby looked at me, and pulled her up and over to me. The two of us eased her down over my thighs and her reddened pussy onto the top of my anxious cock. The lubrication of Toby's cum was just right. My hands on her hips made sure she was fully seated on me. I gave a little upthrust and she released a small noise. I leaned forward and kissed her. She put her head on my shoulder and breathed deeply. I liked the feeling of her clasped around my cock.

I said slowly, but loudly enough for Toby to hear, "You know what's going to happen next, slut? You are going to stand up and get dressed. The three of us are going out for a nice dinner. Then we are going back to our apartment and we are going to do more work on tuning up your sex life. You are taking your own advice about how to win the contest."

My tone had an emphatic edge to it that meant she didn't have any choice about submitting.

She looked up with open eyes, kissed me and said, "Yes, master."