Red Cafe's "God Wanted Us to Be Lit" bumps from the Bose speakers inside the back of Jerrell White's 2024 Rubicon Jeep as he turns the corner of 8th and Broadway of Gary, enroute to his gym. Fully loaded, the jeep has tinted windows, slightly cracked to allow fresh air to circulate, as the bright sun of the spring day beats down on the passersby headed to work or other places of interest.
6'7, 40-years of age, Jerrell is a handsome bachelor.
Possessing the physical definition of an African American adonis, he maintains a strict diet and exercise regime as a fitness instructor. The proprietor of a fitness center in downtown Gary, "Keep the Body Straight" gym, established in 2000... it increases daily with a large clientele of Hot wives requiring "private" lessons.
2 blocks from his gym, Jerrell grasps the head of one of his fitness instructors, Deeanna Gray, an attractive white woman with 34 D cup breasts, a natural, bubble butt and an hourglass figure, as she deepthroats his 9-inch BBC. She gags and drools, eyes watering from its thick girth. "Better hurry, baby girl," Jerrell moans, pushing deep inside Deeanna's throat. "We're almost at the gym."
Deeanna increases her efforts, throating the BBC faster, gripping Jerrell's large, shaved balls. She pulls it from her mouth, beats the bulbous head on her tongue stud. "Give it to me, Daddy," she pants. "I need my morning nutrients!"
"You got it, ma," Jerrell replies, releasing his sperm to cover Deeanna's face. Quickly, she drives his BBC inside her mouth, moaning audibly, as she swallows its copious load. She sits upright in the jeep's passenger's seat, as Jerrell pulls into the semi-full parking lot of his fitness center, hand wiping her mouth then sucking her fingers clean of cum.
"That hit the spot, Daddy," Deeanna says with a smile, staring at her occasional fuck partner/supervisor.
"I know," Jerrell replies with a smirk. He parks the Rubicon in a space marked "Supervisor Parking Only, shuts off the engine. "So... we good for tonight?" He strokes Deeanna's blonde hair.
Deeanna shrugs. "Not sure... my man might return tonight from his business trip. I'll text you when I know for sure."
Jerrell chuckles. "Deeanna and her white, Sugar Daddy corporate exec. I'm clowning! Cat's pushing 60... you're 30."
Playfully, Deeanna smacks Jerrell's broad chest, accentuated by a muscle shirt. "And you're 40... your point?"
"I'm in shape, with a BBC, and can fuck! I'm not rich like your old ass dude but living comfortable enough to appease my modest lifestyle, feel me? Plus, you keep coming back to get that pussy beat up because mister lame dick can't lay pipe right!" Jerrell laughs, his deep voice echoing in the jeep.
"That's mean, Daddy," Deeanna says, feigning a pout. Suddenly, she joins in her supervisor's laughter. "But you're right. He can't fuck for shit... with Viagra!" She massages Jerrell's forming bulge. "But we both know you can! I can't get enough of this BBC!"
Jerrell pushes away Deeanna's hand. "Later, Dee... we need to get inside. We both have our regulars today for private lessons."
He exits the Rubicon, opens the door for Deeanna. "Your car will be out the shop today, right? I don't like all the suspicious glances we get every time we walk into work together."
"Don't worry, Jerrell, I get my car today. We're good."
"Cool. Walk ahead of me... I'll be inside shortly." Jerrell watches Deeanna's huge ass bounce as she enters the gym. "All that ass," he mumbles, "wasted on a dead fuck." He takes a Samsung Smartphone from the right pocket of his Adidas sweatpants, scrolls through all the advertisements, stopping at a recent message from his 9AM appointment, Rhonda Stackhouse, a sexy, white Cougar in her early fifties. Her husband a wealthy oil baron from El Paso, Texas, she has the body of a 20-year-old, 38JJ breasts from saline injections, a BBL, Brazilian Butt Lift, toned legs and long, brunette hair hanging to her waist, and the sexual appetite of one as well.
I'M EARLY, JERRELL... SITTING IN THE LOBBY... WAITING ON YOU! The text message ends with eggplant, peach and water squirting emoticons.
Jerrell smiles, entering his gym. "This bitch," he chuckles, returning his employees' greetings, as he spots Rhonda. Wearing a Yoga type bodysuit, spaghetti straps in the front, bulging her massive bosom, and in the back, her legs are crossed as she sits on a long, leather couch, texting. She looks up, smiling widely, flashing a perfect set of white teeth, as she discerns her private fitness instructor. She stands, rises on tiptoes to embrace Jerrell after he reaches her. Slightly, he grips her slim waist, inhaling her potent perfume, feeling a familiar twitch in his crotch.
"Good to see you, Jerrell," Rhonda whispers in her instructor's ear, giving the earlobe a quick nibble; he pushes her back gently, flinching.
"Ready to get started?" Jerrell looks over Rhonda with a nod of approval, impressed by the transformation of her once overweight yet still curvaceous physique. All due to his "special" methods of calisthenics.
"Lead the way, " Rhonda replies, her gray eyes trained on Jerrell's ass as she follows him to a private training room. Inside, he flips on the lights, the room lit by blue, florescent lights inside covers dangling from the ceiling.
"How is your diet going, Rhonda," Jerrell asks, removing his muscle shirt, exposing his chiseled chest and six pack.