When she walked into the gym it had been almost impossible not track her movements, not to shift my attention to her. She hadn't been interested in the treadmills, the yoga classes, and much to their chagrin, she breezed past the muscle heads trying to bench press their cars weight. She headed straight for my little corner of the gym and walked up to me, sleek, fit, determination in her eyes, dark brunette hair that I'm weak for, legs that I was already picturing wrapped around my head.
"I'm here for the self-defense class. Are you the instructor?" Her voice was a velvet caress, and she held one of my fliers in her left hand, where a gold wedding band glittered. On a scale of 1 to 10 she was already a 9, now she was a 19.
"That's me," I responded, trying not to let the hunter in me show in my smile. "I'm about to start. It's an Army style class so I'm not going to be nice, but if you're up for a little rough treatment in order to learn, I can help."
Her full lips quirked up in a smile. "I... dated... a couple wrestlers in college, I don't mind a little bit of rough."
At that point I realized April, who's name I learned shortly thereafter, was going to make focusing on teaching hard, just like she made me.
Two months in and April had stuck with the class, that impressed me, most people, men and women, drop out two weeks after they realize it takes practice, sweat, and some bruises to learn anything. She wasn't especially talented, but she had determination, and I had heaped praise and encouragement on her every day she showed up. April even eagerly exchanged phone numbers with me when I told her that sometimes missions kept me from being able to teach and I didn't want her to waste the time going to the gym when I wasn't going to be there.
It would have almost felt wrong, abusing her trust, if I hadn't caught the bite of the corner of her lip, the way her eyes lit up, the short intake of breath... signs she wanted my number as much as I wanted hers. I ramped up the flirting, spending extra time during grappling techniques with April, it didn't do her skills any favors, and more than once after class I had to conceal how hard she made me, but I was addicted to this married beauty. Then she dropped a simple line after class.
"My husband is going to be in conferences a lot this summer, I wanted him to feel okay with me being alone." My shorts were supposed to be loose, but as she paused in front of me with eyes any porn star would be jealous of, sweat gluing her top to pert, luscious breasts, and that damn lip bite and I was hard as steel.
"Oh really?" I asked, trying to keep the eagerness out of my voice. "When's he headed out first?"
"This weekend," April nearly purred in the now empty room. "He might feel better if he knew a soldier was stopping by to make sure his poor wife was taken care of."
I tried to answer, but she glided past, trailing her fingertips over the front of my shorts, lightly stroking my cock as she slid towards the changing room. Thought vanished and was replaced by hunger.
The rest of the week felt a torture session, time dragging out like a blade on skin. Then, Saturday morning and as I was getting ready for a run, I got a text.
"Husband just left, can you come over and make sure I'm safe?"
I damn near ran to her house.
I did my best to keep cool, parked a block away, strolled up casual as could be, but then she opened the door in a low cut tank top and skirt that looked as though she had been poured into it. I guess my appreciation for April's lithe, sexy body was written on my face as she stepped back with a giggle and twirled for me.
"Like it? I had it in college and it still fits... mostly." The twirl showed thong cut white panties, their color far more innocent than the beauty wearing them. A fact made all the more clear when she pulled me by my hand towards her fucking bedroom.
