Worout

He loved the way she looked in her workout clothes. Maybe it was just the contrasts with her usual wardrobe: they showed a little more arm and shoulder, they tended to be a little more form fitting... But whatever the cause, the effect was clear: MAN it turned him on.

Sure, they worked out together a lot. But it was still a testament to his self-control (or more likely his respect for her wishes) that they ever got out the door without him trying to jump her. Living together, he saw her in underwear, in pajamas, heck, in nothing pretty regularly. But for some reason her gym clothes completely blew his circuits and took his mind to urgent, driving, sweaty places.

Speaking of sweaty places, they arrived at the gym without incident. Unusually for them, they were both pretty night shifted, so were taking advantage of the fact that this gym was open 24 hours. There were only half a dozen other night owls populating the well-lit maze of weight machines and cardio equipment. Our happy couple dropped their gear in their respective dressing rooms and got down to the serious business of lifting heavy things.

Normally the not-entirely-pleasant physical exertion (along with focus on form and an intense desire not to injure himself) kept him more focused on the workout than the way the stretch material highlighted rather than hid her maddening curves, the way her tops tended to show just glimpses of belly, the way the exercises tended to make her muscles ripple, bunch, lengthen, and relax... Tonight, for whatever reason, his focus never shifted. His awareness of her body (not to mention his intense desire to explore it) never faded.

In short, he wanted her. In a big way.

His vain attempts to keep his eyes off her had resulted in the occasional scan of the rest of the establishment. And though he seldom noticed other women when he was with his ladylove, in this case he happened to notice their absence. Of the 8 people still in the gym at this ungodly hour, all of them (including the desk staff) were male. His mind (which should have been counting to fifteen, or reminding him to keep his core tight or some nonsense) started to hatch a truly evil plan.

If she noticed that he was more distracted than usual, she kept it to herself. And, apart from a close call at the adductor machine, they finished their workout without incident and got to stretching. Over casual conversation, he tried to act as normal as he could while she spread her legs before him and folded her body into some rather... distracting configurations. Mustn't let her know anything was up.

Not yet at least.

They wiped their mats, put them away, and headed for the locker rooms. She took his hand and said, "Meet you up front in a couple minutes?"

"Sure sure" he replied, giving her hand a squeeze. She let go and headed into the women's locker room. God he loved that girl. And, he reflected as she turned the corner out of sight, he was pretty fond of that ass too.

It was with this thought fresh in his mind that he stood at the water fountain between the two entrances and, instead of going to his locker, pulled a couple of towels out of his gym bag and slowly counted to twenty. Then, without so much as a furtive glance, he strode into the women's locker room.

The layout seemed nearly identical to the men's room, though a mirror image. Before he could scrutinize for other differences, he saw her. Now she nearly always took his breath away, but the sight of her before him, pulling her top over her head, crisp sports bra contrasting with the skin of her back, one heel off the ground, hip cocked to one side... For a moment he forgot his need, his illicit plans and just took her in.

Good god she was beautiful.

Whether she saw something out of the corner of her eye, sensed someone else had come into the room, or in the natural course of changing, she turned and saw him standing there like a fool in love.

"What the..."

Before she could finish the exclamation, he was on her, pressing her into the locker, his mouth covering her own. His hands roamed her skin, her hair, her lycra-covered ass. Initially rigid, she soon relaxed into his arms as the contrast of cold metal behind her and searing desire before her woke something in her as well.

Just when she was going to pull away and suggest they continue this at home, he spun her away from the lockers and thrust her toward the showers. He gave her no opportunity to inquire, much less resist as he opened the last shower stall and pulled her inside. Along the way he noticed that, like the men's, these shower doors came mere inches from the floor, so no one could see even the ankles of whoever was inside unless their head was nearly under the door. Though discretion wasn't his highest priority just now... Getting those clothes off of her was.

Of course if she'd resisted, it would have been impossible. Her murmurs of "stop..." "don't..." "you can't..." were given lie by the way she raised her arms to let him pull away her sports bra, the way she lifted one foot then the other so he could strip her tights and panties from her. He left her to stand naked before him just long enough to hang up her clothes and free himself from his own. Then he started a warm stream flowing from the shower head and returned to exploring her.

As he pressed his skin to hers, arms enveloping her even as the hot water enveloped them both, he marveled once more how incredibly right she felt in his arms. His tongue glided over hers, he greedily savored all the skin he'd coveting for hours. Soon his hands slid from ass to hip to thigh, and fingers wandered further.

"Stop..." her voice barely a moan "We could get caught..." The heat, the wetness on his fingers that had nothing to do with the shower emboldened him to ignore her protests. Instead, he forces her hands behind her to steady her against the shower wall, pressed his knee between her to widen her stance, then slid down her body so his tongue could explore where his fingers had been.

The warm water continued to beat down on them as he caressed her lips, her clit, darting within from time to time while working toward the steady gentle rhythm she needed, that she loved. Several more murmurs of "Please... you mustn't..." later and she was teetering on the very edge. He briefly pondered keeping her there for a while, but instead increased pressure the least little bit and sent the waves of orgasm crashing through her.

He stood, wrapping her in his arms once more, then turned so his body was blocking most of the hot water (that she might cool a bit as she came down). He held her close, supporting nearly all her weight until the aftershocks subsided. At last she lifted her face to his and breathed, "You're fun."

"Oh love," he replied, looking deep into her eyes, "I am SO not done with you yet." Before she could even wonder, he spun her so she was facing away from him, and placed her palms on the wall in front of her. Then he guided her feet a little bit wider than her shoulders, and a little bit behind them. Then he tilted her hips back and stood there admiring his work while steam swirled around them. All those workouts had given definition to her shoulders, her arms, her thighs, toned her ass, slimmed her waist... Her whole body looked good enough to eat.

He began to drag his lips along the back of her neck, kissing, nibbling occasionally. His hands roamed her breasts, her belly, her thighs. He caressed, cuddled, and whispered words of love until he decided she had recovered fully. Then he left the cove of her neck to stand fully behind her. Hands gripping her waist, water streaming between them, the tip of his cock nestled against her opening.

At once she began to push back against it as her need returned to her in a rush. But he had other ideas. He kept himself touching but not entering her, instead guiding one of her hands from the wall down between her legs. She shifted her weight slightly so that one hand could support her, then complied with his unspoken command.

Once her felt her finger begin to move, then he pressed into her. Just a fraction of an inch and then still. Then a little bit more. A pause. A bit deeper still. The more he wanted to drive into her, the slower he went. A lifetime of tiny ecstasies later his hips fit into the curve of her ass, he filled her utterly, and they were both complete. Her fingertips continued their magic as he drew back. This was neither quite as slow nor quite as controlled as his mind's grip on his body's needs started to fray.

When he was about to slip out of her, he drove back in. This time the impact of his hips against her ass rocked her forward momentarily. She rocked back and the spiral began to tighten: His hands gripped, her fingers danced, his cock drove, her hips rocked, pace quickened, her back arched, his thighs slapped, her mouth opened, his eyes clenched...

"Oh god, oh yes, oh god, oh OH..." The sound of her voice, way she clenched around him sent him past the point of no return and he burst inside of her. Still, pressed into her, nothing in the world existed except the places they touched, the moment suspended in time they shared.

Eventually the world returned. He reluctantly withdrew from her. She straightened and stretched a little. Muscles that had already been thoroughly worked out earlier made themselves known. She cleaned herself up a little (one of the advantages of recreation in the shower...) then turned off the water. It didn't even faze her when he handed her one of the towels he'd brought in with him. They enjoyed a quiet moment drying off before the reality of where they were came back to her.

"Wait, how..." she began.

"Shhh..." he stopped her, helping her into her clothes. "You get dressed and head out. If you see anyone else in the locker room, come back here for something you 'forgot in the shower'. If you don't come back by the time I've counted to 50, I'll assume it's all clear and come out to meet you at the front door. Got it?"

She was quiet for a moment. "Do you sit around planning this stuff just in case it ever comes up?"

"Of course silly." I said, smacking her ass. "Now get going."

"I love you." She turned and went.