Disclaimer: The following story contains sex scenes and rude words. It's fairly tame, and I'm pretty broad-minded, but the decency laws in most states would require it not be read by persons under 18. Also, if you're offended by adult themes, you should probably leave now.
More importantly, this tale features women presented as sexual objects. There is nothing wrong with this as they are only fictional characters. I urge readers, especially young males, to not regard real women in this way.
This work is © 2004 the author. Permission is granted to freely distribute, provided it is not altered in any way. It may not be posted to any website or included in any archive without the author's permission.
There is no Nicola. All characters are fictitious. The situations are made-up. This is only a fantasy, and any similarity to real persons, events & institutions is pure coincidence.
*****
Rick was staying in LA a couple of weeks on business and asked his buddy Dave if he could use his local gym. But when Rick arrived, he was a little disappointed with the place. It was a real dive, small, kinda run down looking, though obviously in the middle of some much-needed redecorating. The sign over the door, faded and shabby, read "Coach Farley's Gym".
"Maybe I should go someplace else," Rick wondered as he eyed up the gym's grubby interior. "There's a Dickmann's a few blocks from here, I go to one in New York and it's pretty good."
Dave grinned. "Dude, Coach Farley's gym may look a little worn out, but it boasts something you won't find in any of those faceless chains."
They walked through reception, Rick noticing the dust on the floor, the yellowing posters of body-builders, and the cracked and peeling paintwork. An old guy in a grey tracksuit sat behind the front desk reading a Ringside magazine.
"Hey Coach, how's it going?"
"Hiya Dave," the grey-haired man returned his greeting. "Not too bad, now that I can afford to spruce the joint up a bit."
"This is Rick, he's staying in town for a while, be OK if got a guest membership?"
"Sure, sure," the Coach replied. "I got a membership form to sign out."
As Rick scribbled a few details down, Dave asked the Coach in a sotto voice, "So, is Nicola in today?"
The Coach laughed. "Just came in a couple of minutes ago."
Dave could barely contain his excitement. "Come on, let's go!" he hustled his friend.
As Rick followed him into the gym, the first thing that struck him was that no-one seemed to be actually working out. There were a bunch of guys, some of them with free-weights, a couple on the rowing machines, and a few on treadmills. But none of them seemed to be actually doing anything other than staring.
Then Dave nudged him, and he realized what it was they were all staring at.
Seated at one of the weight machines was the most beautiful girl Rick had ever seen. And, to his utter amazement, she was completely naked except for sweatbands on her forehead and wrists, and a pair of Reeboks.
She was tall, lithe and athletic, with a rich, all- over tan (evidently, it wasn't just in the gym she spent time nude!). Her perfect breasts stood out firm and proud, glistening with sweat. Rick's eyes traveled hungrily over her body, watching her arms ripple and flex as she pumped the weights, admiring her flat, toned stomach, and settling at the brunette patch of public hair that rode high just above her pouting pussy lips.
The girl was so engrossed in her exercise program, she didn't notice that Rick, Dave and every other man in the gym was busy leering at her. Even the lucky guy who was spotting her was having trouble concentrating on his job. Rick looked at him enviously, as his hands slid under Nicola's bare arms guiding her in her work- out.
"Jeez!" murmured Rick. "Does the old guy know she's in here buck naked?"
Dave grinned. "Of course he does! Come on."
They jumped onto a spare couple of treadmills to warm up. Rick couldn't keep his eyes off the bare beauty, and it was a lucky coincidence that the machine has been arranged to allow him to watch her while he ran.
In fact, Rick noticed, all the equipment in the gym seems to have been arranged to allow the male spectators to enjoy the view. The walls were lined with mirrors, and no matter where he looked, Rick got a good looked at the sexy nude babe.
After a while, she stood up from the machine. Her whole body was slick with sweat, and her boobs heaved up and down as she puffed from exertion. Her training partner grabbed a towel and began the enviable task of wiping down her bare body.
"Phew!" she cried, wiping licks of sweat off her breasts with both hands. "That was some work-out." Rick detected an unmistakeably sexy Australian huskiness to her voice.
"Who is that chick?" he whispered. But before his pal Dave could answer, she spoke out again, address her congregation of voyeurs.
"I'm gonna hit the sauna," she announced. "Anyone wanna come join me?"
There was a general shout of agreement from the men in the gym. As the naked girl sauntered out of the weights room, the guys fell into step behind her, their tongues hanging out. Dave followed to, with Rick curious as to where all this was heading.
Rick was pretty surprised to discover there was only one steamroom in Coach Farley's Gym, and it was apparently co-ed. Nicola peeled off her sweats and kicked off her shoes before heading in. There was a mad scramble from the guys to get rid of their own clothes and follow her into the sauna.
A little surprised by all of this, Rick took his time. He'd only just joined this gym fifteen minutes ago, and here he was following a gorgeous naked Aussie chick into the steamroom with a whole lot of other men!
Rick and Dave finally entered. At first, all he could see was plumes of steam choking the air. And then the humid mist parted, and Rick once again set eyes upon that heavenly body.
She was lounging on a bench, her head tossed back so that her chestnut-colored mane of hair splayed across the marble tiles, the very picture of sensual repose. She had a towel with her, but it was tossed casually across her shoulder so that it did little to conceal her spectacular nudity.
All the guys were clustered around her, grinning stupidly. They had towels as well, all forming tents over their eager crotches.
"Hey Nicola," Dave greeted her, "I've got someone with me who'd like to meet you."
She raised her head and greeted the boys with an adorable smile.
"Nicola, this is my best buddy Rick from New York City."
"Hi there, Rick," Nicola replied, stretching out an elegant hand. "My mates call me Knickers." Again Rick was intoxicated by her rich Australian accent.
He dumbly returned the handshake, although he'd much rather have his hands on some other part of her delectable anatomy. The whole situation was so surreal, like a sex fantasy come to life.
"Good to meet you," Rick said at last, unable to tear his gaze away from her fantastic pair of tits. Lucky beads of sweat clung her bosom like tiny jewels. Nicola noticed he was giving her breasts more attention than her face and playfully laughed in her melodious voice.
"Yknow," Rick said at last, "in New York it's pretty rare to walk into a gym and see..."
"A beautiful naked girl working out?" Nicola finished his sentence with a naughty smirk. "Well, Ricky, you just sit yourself down next to me, and I'll tell you the whole story."
She patted the seat next to her, and before you could say "nice rack, sweetheart", Rick had made himself comfortable, squeezing himself against Nicola's luscious naked body.
"Well," she began, not minding Rick's hand creeping up her thigh, "it all started like this..."
**********
Coach Farley looked over the latest batch of bills on his desk and let out a sigh. His debts were mounting, and it looked like he was about to lose his livelihood.
It had always been his dream to open his own gym, and he'd done just that back in '53 when he returned from Korea. In its heyday, Coach Farley's Gym had been the best gym in West Hollywood, with membership numbering in the hundreds.
But times were changing. Big business was squeezing out the small-time operators like Coach Farley. Huge chains like Dickmann's were where the young folks liked to go in this day and age. And it was beginning to look like they were winning.
Without warning, the door to the Coach's office swung open. Standing there, smirking an oily smirk, stood the man who was personally making Coach Farley's life a living hell: Winston E. Prickk, manager of seven Dickmann's gyms across LA, and always looking to increase his little fiefdom. Tall, thin, dressed in an immaculate suit, the greasy tick epitomised everything the Coach despised about those big corporations.
"Coach Farley," he murmured. "I see you're taking yet another futile look at your finances."
"Get outta here, prick," the Coach barked. "I ain't finished yet."
"It's pronounced 'Pry-ick'," he sniffed. "And you should treat me better, Coach. I'm the only thing standing between you and financial ruin."
"I told you before and I'm tellin' you again, I ain't selling you my gym and that's final."
Prickk laughed. "Oh you will, Coach, you will. But for your stubbornness I'm lowering my offer to $22,000."
The Coach reared himself up from behind his desk. He might be 67 years old, but he was still in perfect health.
"You get your slimy ass outta my gym right now," he growled, "or I'll show you just why I was a welterweight boxing champ-een back in '57!"
If Prickk was alarmed at this threat he didn't show it. "Mark my words, old man. One day soon, the sign outside this decrepit old gym will read 'Dickmann's', and I'll be the one running it. You don't have any other choice: either you sell up to me, or you'll go bankrupt."
With a heartless chuckle, he turned around and marched out of the Coach's office.
Coach Farley slumped back into his chair. Prickk was right- he didn't have much choice. If he couldn't raise membership by the end of the week, he'd have to sell his beloved gym or end up penniless...
The next day found the Coach sitting in reception, brooding over the membership books. Only five members! And one of them still owed their fees.
What he needed was some way to drum up business, generate some buzz in the neighborhood to get people flocking to his gym again. What he needed was... a promotion gimmick.
But what?
Just then, the door to the women's locker-room opened and out strolled a vision of loveliness. She was damp and wearing nothing but a towel, which she clasped none-too-carefully about her with one hand, showing off her long, lean legs and a generous helping of her tasty cleavage.
It was Nicola, of course. Coach Farley didn't have too many clients at the gym, and the sexy Aussie starlet was unforgettable.
