A Slut Is Born

CHAPTER 7: GYM PLEASURES

I grabbed my personal cell phone as it rang and vibrated on my desktop. Seeing the identification of the caller, I quickly shot a glance at the open door to my office.

"Hey, sexy," came Travis's voice. It was rare that he inserted himself into my business life but it was at the end of official office hours. On cue, my assistant popped her head in the doorway, saw me on the phone, and gave me a wave as she was leaving.

"Hi," I replied as I weighed how much I could say while in the office. Regardless, I flushed. The only relationship Travis and I had was sexual. Hearing his voice had that effect on me. His voice spurs arousal. His voice sparks memories of big black cock and orgasms.

"How few hours of sleep can you still function the next day with?" he came back with.

My eyes flicked to the doorway and the quiet office outside it. "How few hours...? Ummmm.... very few as long as it is just one day. Why would you ask that?"

"Can you meet me at the gym at 11:00 PM tonight?" It didn't seem like an answer but maybe it was.

"The gym?" I hesitantly uttered. "Your gym closes at 10:00." I had switched from my previous swanky fitness club to his smaller, basic gym but I found myself more dedicated to using it when surrounded by people who were committed to working for results.

"Can you?"

It was clear he wasn't about to give a reason. This was Travis, though. I had developed more trust in this man than I had ever had in anyone since I was a child with my parents. "Sure... yes. I'll be there at 11:00." What was he up to, I wondered after the call disconnected.

* * * *

The parking lot for the gym was nearly deserted, though the lights inside blazed fully. There was only one vehicle, Travis's Subaru Forester, and I parked next to it. We were both parked in handicapped spots at the front curb opposite the front door. I could see Travis moving around behind the reception desk wearing his workout clothes rather than his official attire. Me? I was decked out for a workout, too. A workout only made sense for us to be here, right? I was in fashionable tights that hugged my butt, a fashionable sports bra that showed my C-cup cleavage, and trainers on my feet. My long brunette hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

Travis was watching me and moved to unlock the front door as I left my car and used the fob to lock its doors. After re-locking the front doors behind us, he led me past the reception desk and through another set of double doors I had never seen closed before. The women's locker room was on the left and the men's was on the right. He indicated the women's locker room with his head but I shook my head.

We entered the large main workout room consisting of cardio machines and floor space on the left and a variety of resistance machines, free weights, and kettlebells on the right and straight ahead. Rather than entering any of it, though, he stopped at the counter used by the trainers.

He leaned against the counter looking at me with a mischievous smile. "Strip."

I looked at him startled. My eyes quickly scanned the open space. Why should I be surprised by anything from Travis? But I was. The wall on the outside of the cardio area was floor-to-ceiling glass to the outside, though it was to a small parking lot with an undeveloped field beyond. Yes, the rest was mirrored but even that seemed to add to the effect of expansive exposure.

"Travis, we're..." I began a protest.

"We're alone," he finished for me. "And," he continued, "I hadn't planned on using the cardio equipment."

I stared at him. The smile never left his face. He knew as well as I did that I could say 'no' at any time. I was pretty sure by this time that he was confident I was willing to follow his lead as long as I was safe. That confidence was also a turn-on for me and, as I accepted that I would do as he asked, I again began wondering what he had planned.

I shook my head but, even as I did, I had crossed my arms to pull the sports bra over my head. Once, again, my eyes scanned the space. Though intellectually I knew the space was empty of anyone else, the feeling of being publicly exposed was tremendous. This was a space I associated with dozens of focused people intent on their fitness. My mind seemed locked on that as I stood bare-breasted.

I looked to Travis, again, perhaps subconsciously hoping this was just a joke I had fallen for. It clearly wasn't. His face remained as it had been. He merely nodded. His nod was for me to continue. I loosened my shoe laces, pried the shoes off, and pushed my tights and thong down my legs. He said I needed my shoes for safety. Then he turned to walk into the resistance area. I followed naked while wearing trainers and that felt weird.

He guided me through some routine warm-up stretches and moves. He had apparently pulled my chart. He announced we were going to blast my legs and core. He led me to the leg press machine. As I settled down into it, he was adding weights that would be an effort but still easy for me. He stood next to the machine and had a clear view of my effort. With feet parted further than shoulder width, he also had a clear view of my pussy. I guess I was distracted by my exposure to him as he bent over to correct the placement of my feet and slid his hand over my bare leg to indicate how far I should allow the machine to lower before pushing back up. I glanced down to see what he was also seeing: my pussy lips opening as my thighs came back toward my breasts.

Then, he added a 45-pound plate to each side. The blasting began.

The leg extension machine had a similar effect, though my thighs were fairly well together. Nonetheless, it seemed every movement had its effect on me. He was dressed. I was naked and frequently blatantly exposed.

He switched to my core to give my legs some recovery time. Crunches on the mat, crunch machine, resistance twists, and planks. I suddenly knew what was coming as I had advanced significantly in doing planks. He moved me through routine plank positions to the side planks I was now dreading. Not dreading because they were hard, just because of the position. It was time for side planks. Starting in the normal plank position, I rotated for support from one arm with my other arm stretched toward the ceiling. I felt my breasts sag as I rotated. Damn, I thought, why was every move reinforcing how exposed I was? After achieving stability, I rotated the rest of my body to be in line and, finally, raised my top leg toward the ceiling.

Despite the exertion, I knew I blushed profusely. I tried to avoid glancing at Travis as he was crouched as if to evaluate my correct positioning but mostly to be in direct view of my spread pussy.

Only after I had completed the moves did he use a single finger to raise my chin to plant a kiss on my lips. "You should be focused on the movement, Tessa," he said. I looked at him puzzled. His hand came up to capture a nipple. "Your pussy is very wet. What are you thinking about?"

He didn't give me a chance to respond, though my fluster at his comment probably wouldn't have allowed an intelligible response, anyway. He grabbed a 25-pound kettlebell and went to an adjustable bench. He lowered the bench by about a foot. Squats over the bench, he informed me. I had never squatted that far down but then I saw it. He lay down on the bench with his head where I would be squatting. I also understood why he gave me the 25-pounder and not the normal 35-pounder.

I looked down at him. "Seriously?" He just smiled back up at me.

I shook my head. What did I expect? Our relationship was entirely sexual. I set my feet properly with the kettlebell held with both hands at chest level in front of me and close to my body. Normally, I would squat down to just touch the bench. This time...

I shifted my feet to the end of the bench, held the weight firm, and began lowering my hips, my butt moving back and my knees slightly forward maintaining a controlled and stable position as my hips continued down. I was facing a wall of mirrors. It was advantageous to watch form during the move. In this case, however, it gave me a view of what was happening below me. With my knees spread for stability, I had an unobstructed view when his tongue came out of his mouth to meet my descending pussy. I gasped at the contact. There is a natural pause when motion shifts from controlled downward motion to triggering muscles to begin the push back up. In that pause, his tongue licked my spread pussy lips.

It didn't matter that nobody else was in the building. This was obscenely erotic. I saw myself naked in the workout space doing an entirely routine movement but Travis was lying there to kiss and tongue my very aroused pussy each time. I shivered with arousal and each time I tried to hold the natural pause well beyond normal to enjoy the lips and tongue waiting for me. The time his tongue pressed into my open hole, I fought to hold the position until my quads began to shake from stress. Again and again, I attempted the variation of the move, stressing my legs to enjoy his tongue on and in my pussy.

To give my legs a rest, he put me on the bench and handed me two 35-pound dumbbells for presses. Again, this weight was below normal for me and I knew something else was going to happen. I was reclined on the bench, legs spread on either side, my pussy glistening from his mouth and my leaking arousal, and my nipples hard on my rising and falling breasts. I pressed up with the weights knowing I would be capable of doing a good number of repetitions but focused on form, bringing my elbows low without overly straining my shoulders and smoothly pressing up to extend the weights directly over me to feel the effort in my chest.

As I watched the weights rise in my hands, I lost track of Travis. For a second, I thought this was just a simple effort until I felt a finger sliding over my spread pussy. I gasp. My arousal spiked back to where it had been when being tongued, and the weights in my hands wavered with the distraction. A single finger easily slid into my pussy and was soon joined by another. Again, the weights wavered as I pressed up.

"Form, Tessa. The benefit is in the form," Travis said.

"No," I chuckled in reply, "the benefit is your fingers inside me."

These simple touches in a place that is normally so public were a huge stimulation. I was understanding the effect of exhibitionism. I wished he would stop with the pretense, take the weights from my hands, and fuck me on the bench. It was difficult to concentrate and I was losing form but the weights were just light enough that it was work but not in danger of dropping.

Finally, I let the weight go to the floor and arched my back. "Ohhhh... fuckkkk... I... I want to... cummmmm. Please, Travis. Just a little... more. My clit... please."

He shoved a third finger into me, his thumb hitting and stroking my clit. I raised my hips off the bench with the rising, increasing stimulation. One finger curled inside and found my g-spot and he worked it with his thumb on my clit. The impulses shot back and forth from outside and inside as if crashing against each other somewhere between. My entire body tightened and strained. My knees shifted further apart and I was supported at three spots: my feet and shoulders. The rest of my body was straining to increase availability to his thrusts and manipulation with his fingers.

And... I orgasmed on his fingers, my body shaking and quivering, my pussy clenching on his fingers. He lightly stroked my pussy and fondled my breasts as I recovered and calmed. He was alongside me as my heart rate returned closer to normal. He kissed me and not lightly while pressing on my clit and pinching a nipple to send renewed jols through my body.

I moaned and looked into his eyes. "Oh God, what are you doing to me?"

Seeing my reaction, he started on my clit and nipples with more intention. My arms hung below me from the bench. I was laid out completely for him to touch and use and, except for occasional reminders of where we were, I wanted more.

"I am doing what you desire," he responded to my question. "I am taking your expressed feeling of addiction to cock and orgasm to being a slut for cock and orgasm."

Yes. When I confessed the feeling of addiction, it was only his cock and our orgasms. He's since had three of his friends separately fuck me with him. Now it was a sense of being public. The feeling of trepidation I had felt earlier was gone. I wanted to know if he had more planned. I didn't have long to wait. After a water break, my legs felt fully recovered. My arousal, though, wasn't. It had become exciting to move around the area naked, seeing myself in the mirrored walls. He must have sensed it in me. He took my hand and led me into the cardio area, walking past the walled windows to the stretching area. My eyes flicked to the windows but there was nothing to see. The lights inside and the darkness outside turned the windows into more mirrors. I knew they weren't and it was exciting.

That was a small detour. He was ready for the next exercise. He led me to the Smith machine which was also used for squats with a barbell that maintained control of a strict up-and-down motion and was able to be quickly locked for safety. He again moved a similar bench into position. Before I could give much thought that it was going to be a repeat, he stripped his shorts to his feet and lay on the bench with his butt at the end and knees together. He was stroking his already-growing cock.

As if there was nothing unusual about to happen, "Don't add too much weight." It was a simple comment but I saw what he intended. I used about half the usual amount of weight and took my position. My feet had to be spread a bit further than shoulder width to be on either side of his thighs. He jerked the bench slightly to adjust his position. I took a deep breath, envisioning the exercise movement and his obvious intention.

I backed over his legs, dipped my shoulders under the bar to take the weight off the locking mechanism, and glanced below. He continued stroking his now hard cock while aligning it vertically. I wasn't sure how this could work.

"Squat slowly," I heard from behind me. "I'll assist in aligning to your hole."

My hole? He had previously referred to my holes, and how fuckable all my holes were. Holes: it seemed so crude, so graphic, so lewd, so... slutty.

I had to concentrate. This wasn't like the last time. That time I lowered and my pussy was kissed or licked and I popped back up. This time it would be more deliberate, more precise. Even with the lighter weights it would take more control to move down to the touch of his cock, the movement of it to my hole, and only then in the descent to be penetrated. Was this even possible?

I soon found out. My hips moved back as I squatted down. I felt his cock head first at my clit which sent a jolt through me. This was so obscene! I was really doing this with him? His cock moved through my spread pussy lips back to my hole. It was obvious to me that my hole was open when the head hit it with an immediate slight penetration. Though it was only a moment of hesitation, I took another breath and lowered slowly, his cock entering me only inches but steadily taking more and more as I controlled the descent. I glanced down to find about half his cock inside and I began pressing up with my legs.

"Now that we've proven it can be done," he said from behind and below me, "lower yourself all the way to my hips. That will provide the full effect... for your legs." Without being able to see his face, I could hear a big smile there.

"My legs, hell," I blurted out. "What happens if I begin to orgasm?"

He laughed. "Your legs will be burning before you accomplish that."

"Says you," I responded as I began another descent.

I had done a dozen or so squats, each one with my ass hitting his hips, his cock fully penetrating my pussy, and I was feeling the effort in my legs. I was feeling the effort in my pussy, too, but he was right. The work in my legs seemed to distract the feeling rising from his cock in my pussy. That is until he grabbed my hips as I started rising off his hips, pulled me back down, relaxing his grip to allow 5 or 6 inches of rise only to pull me back down. It was like a slow-motion fucking stroke only I was holding a weighted barbell on my shoulders. After more of those, I felt like I was going to explode in orgasm but the movement back up put a burn in my quads that effectively shifted attention from my pussy to my thighs. It would surge back on the next movement, then be effectively distracted, again.

When my legs quaked on the rise as I felt his cock slip from my dripping pussy, "I'm done," I told him. "I don't think I can do another one. Not like this, anyway."

"Good," he immediately exclaimed. "Lock the bar and fuck me."

Fuck, yes, I thought. I reached between my spread thighs to take his cock to penetrate myself with it. Then I recognized something I hadn't been able to focus on before. With my hands braced on his knees, my eyes found the mirrored wall in front of me. Before, I had been so focused on the effort of my legs despite the feeling in my pussy. Now, it was only my pussy. In the mirror, I watched as his long black cock appeared as I rose and disappeared inside my white body as I thrust down over it. The view added a fitting stimulation. The view of the expansive, open gym area behind added more by reminding me of where we were. Both of us had been aroused sufficiently during the exercise that once the focused effort of fucking was applied we climaxed close together.

Despite my shuddering orgasm I managed to continue moving over his cock until I felt it stop pulsing the last of his cum. Then, I felt his hands pull me back until I was reclined on my back on his front, his hands fondling my breasts and stomach.

"You truly are amazing, Tessa," he softly expressed through a long sigh followed by kisses through my hair onto my head. "I wasn't sure that could be done. You were awesome."

I sighed and a shiver coursed through me. The shiver came from the thought of where I was, who I was with naked, and what had been happening. Amazing. My CEO has used the same term to describe my transformative performance for the corporation. Now Travis uses the same term for my sexual performance. My life seems to have been split in two. Two halves that should never be exposed to the other. Two halves that seem so contrary to each other. Two dissimilar halves that oddly seem to define the full me.

The men's locker room? After all, that has already happened, why not?

Okay... I've been nude for how long in the gym? For some reason being nude in the men's locker room hit another stage of exhibition. I can't explain it.

Travis turned the steam room on and led me to one of the showers. We stood underneath the cascading water and washed. Truthfully, we stood under the water caressing, stroking, and kissing. There wasn't that much washing going on.

Dripping wet, we padded to the steam room which was by then dense with steam. He leaned into the corner on the top level. One of his feet rested on the next level down and I fit nicely between his legs against his stomach and chest. His hands returned to my breasts and stomach as our pores opened quickly and beaded with sweat. I had used the steam room before (in the women's locker room) and enjoyed the cleansing feel of my pores opening to release sweat from a workout. This was a whole other level.

I squirmed slightly against his body as I felt his again hardening cock sliding against my sweat-covered back. God, I loved this man's recovery.

The feeling of his cock growing and sliding over my back was too much. I turned to kneel on the next level down and took his cock in my mouth. It continued to expand and lengthen as I sucked. I was soon lost in the feel of his cock in my mouth and throat. In time, it was Travis who stopped me. Stopped me before he came. Maybe to fuck me. No, it was only then that I realized the heat had me woozy and light-headed. His cock slapped his abdomen as he lifted my mouth from it. He stood up with me, his cock seeming to point in the direction of the door. A silly thought but I would eagerly go wherever it directed me.