Diary of a New York Hotwife: Chapter 1 - The Trainer
I moved to New York just after college and found a little apartment on the upper east side to call home. I had just graduated from college and landed a job as a nurse at a local hospital. I was excited to start my new life in the big city. There was just one problem, my boyfriend was not moving with me. His job kept him in D.C. He would take the train up as often as possible to see me, but during the week I would be alone.
I was drawn to the mystery and excitement the city had to offer. I wanted to make new friends, experience new things, and reimagine myself in the bright lights. I chose to live alone to establish my independence, and I set aside a modest budget to reimagine my wardrobe.
My first weekend in the big city, I headed down to the local shops to buy new clothes that reflected my new confidence and style. As I stood in the changing room, my eyes caught a glimpse of the woman in the mirror. 22 years old with dark brunette hair dropping just to my shoulders. My 5'8" frame supporting a toned and fit body—slender and smooth legs led to a trim and toned stomach and feminine but strong arms. Beautiful hazel eyes and a smile that lit up the room. My perky 34 C breasts stood proudly off my chest, with small areola surrounding nipples that grew hard from the lightest touch. I turned to the side for a view of my firm butt, strong from years of working out. I turned back to the front, sat on the bench, and spread my legs slightly. My waxed pussy slowly spread open as my legs turned to the side. My outer lips holding back thin inner loops that protruded ever so slightly in a way that invited a kiss—my small clit barely visible through the beautiful folds before it.
My boyfriend always said my body screamed to be fucked, but I was never sure how much he said was true versus just being nice. But my mind quickly came back to a conversation we had before the big move to the city, "Kim . . . a beautiful girl like you in the city. You'll make friends in no time. Especially the boys. The moment they see you, they will be offering to buy you drinks and get your number. You know, you really should try to show off that body a bit more. It's a shame I'm the only man that gets to admire your sheer perfection." It was Mike who pushed me to consider an upgrade to my wardrobe, and I'd be damned if I didn't at least try to see the challenge through.
I walked home that day with a whole new closet. Tight jeans that accentuated my legs and ass. A few blouses that hugged my curves just right. Skirts and dresses that would invite attention tastefully. A new set of bras that would provide me support, but let the natural weight of my breasts come through and not completely hide my nipples from sight. New thongs that framed my ass perfectly and felt like silk against my smooth pussy. And of course several lingerie sets that would fit right in on the cover of Playboy. I was excited, yet nervous. What if people hated my body. What if they thought I was a slut. What if Mike was wrong and nobody took a look. Or what if Mike was right. . . .
My first day out in the big city, I shaved my legs, pulled a new red thong over my smooth pussy, strapped a matching lace bralette to my firm tits, and pulled an attractive dress over my body that left little to the imagine, while still being classy in all the right spots. I hit the bars, and boy was Mike right. I could feel eyes on my body . . . and I liked it. I felt wanted. I felt sexy. I felt . . . powerful. I made a few friends that night: Sarah who worked at a local museum, Casey who worked in finance, Hannah who worked at a boutique clothing shop, Jared who worked as a bartender down the street, and Steven who worked at a big law firm downtown. We became fast friends. Spending countless weekends together, and late nights getting to know each other.
Outside of my friend group, I also found a new home at the local gym. I embraced my new image with tight spandex shorts and sports bras that made me feel like a goddess in the weight room. I'd crank my favorite songs and tune out the world while breaking a sweat. There was only one thing that broke my attention . . . and his name was Chris. Chris was a trainer at the gym. He wasn't tall, but he was strong. His beard hugged his chiseled chin, and his bright blue eyes pierced the room—think Jake Gyllenhaal in his heyday. Chris would catch my attention every time he walked by, and although he tried to hide it, I knew I caught his attention as well. Occasionally, I'd catch a glimpse of his eyes staring at my body when I was stretching or doing squats across the room. The attention felt good and validating, but I was taken by a real catch.
Mike was everything you could ask for in a man. 6'3", 220lbs of pure athlete. Powerful as all hell, with strong arms that could make any woman feel small and secure in his embrace. His hair swept back, tucked behind the ears and ending just at the back of his neck. His green eyes were soft yet strong. He treated me like a queen, able to support me emotionally and financially. I wanted for nothing and he made sure I was satisfied. Mike was a selfless lover, spending countless hours with his face buried between my legs making me shake in orgasmic bliss. And his thick, 6" cock spread me wide and made me yearn for more. He was the perfect man, and no matter what someone else brought to the table, he couldn't hold a light to my Mike.
That night I left the gym with Chris on my mind, but any image of him melted away the second I turned the corner and saw Mike sitting on the steps to my apartment. "Mike!" I squealed as I got within earshot, and he looked up with this coy smile on my face. He had surprised me for the weekend, and I was so excited to see him. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me hard, his tongue probing my mouth.
The second we got through the apartment doors, he pushed me down on the bed and buried his face in my breasts. Kissing, sucking and biting lightly. My nipples grew hard from the attention, and I could feel the warmth growing inside me as he teased me. He dropped to the floor, and looked up at me with a devilish smile as he pulled my spandex shorts from my body along with the black thong I wore beneath. He pulled my hips forward with his strong arms, and lightly kissed my pussy which grew wetter by the second. Soon his tongue was flicking lightly over my clit, as he pushed two fingers inside me curled up to tease my g-spot. I let out soft moans that grew louder and more aggressive as he brought me to the edge. I screamed in climax as my body shook from the orgasm coursing deep inside.
He pulled his mouth from my pussy, and I rolled to the side, squeezing my legs together to keep the orgasm pulsing. When I opened my eyes, he stood in front of me, his cock throbbing and sheathed with a condom. He pushed me to my back, spread my legs, and slowly slid his cock up and down my wanting pussy. I couldn't take it anymore and pushed against him so his cock would slide into me. He was gentle, yet strong as his cock slid inside of me inch-by-inch. Spreading me wide and taking my breath away. With one more stroke he was fully inside, and he held me tight without movement to let me adjust to his size. I kissed him deeply to let him know I was ready, and he started to pump rhythmically.
With every thrust, my breath hastened, and my moans grew louder. He felt incredible inside me, and my pussy held on tight every time he tried to pull out. My natural desires craved for him to fuck me. To claim me. To fill me. To put a baby inside me. But the condom between us would certainly prevent that reality. As I could feel myself growing closer to orgasm, Mike lost control. Wrapping his arms around me, he stiffened, thrust deep, and came inside me. So close, but not quite close enough to get me off with just his cock. It wasn't for lack of trying. Maybe I'm just one of those girls who can't cum from only a dick.
He pulled out of me and laid down beside me staring up at the ceiling. I asked, "That was amazing. What are you thinking about baby?" He looked at me, clearly holding back, and said, "Oh nothing." I prodded, "Come on. You know you can trust me. I want to hear what you are thinking." He turned away, and I could feel his body start to tremble a little as he started to talk:
Mike:
Well . . . listen. You know how we talked about you potentially getting attention from boys in the city.
Kim:
Yes . . . but I was under the impression you thought that was a good thing.
Mike:
I do thinks it's a good thing. But there is more. I have these fantasies, but they are pretty embarrassing.
Kim:
All guys have fantasies babe. It's no big deal.
Mike:
Yeah . . . but mine are different. I don't just think about men checking you out. I think about them hitting on you. Flirting with you. Kissing you. Touching you. Tasting you . . . Fucking you.
Kim:
What?! Are you serious? Is this some kind of test? You know I would never cheat on you.
Mike:
I am serious. I've always wanted this. There something so exciting, so sexy about you being with someone else.
Kim:
And what, you get to go around fucking all the tight, blonde co-eds down at Georgetown?
Mike:
No. That's the thing. I don't want to be with anyone else. I just want you to have the experience of other men. I want you to fuck them. To cum for them. To make them cum. Aren't you curious to see what it would be like to be with someone other than me?
Kim:
I mean sure, a girl can fantasize. But you'd really like that? And what, you'd want to join in?
Mike:
Maybe sometimes. But I think I would just like to hear about it, see pictures or video, listen to it, or maybe even watch. I get off from your pleasure. And I want you to have the best sex of your life.
Kim:
You wouldn't be jealous? I don't want you to hate me.
Mike:
Babe, I love you. And this is what I want. You'd be doing it for me. I think it would make us stronger, not tear us apart. I want this more than anything . . . .
We talked a bit longer, and then I fell asleep in his arms. I thought maybe it was a school boy fantasy he'd forget in the morning, or I'd get one of those, "That thing we talked about last night, just forgot about it" comments tomorrow. But the weekend came and went, and that conversation never happened. It didn't come up again, despite dinners and multiple love making sessions. But as we embraced to say goodbye, he whispered in my ear, "I meant it. I want this. I love you." And off he went to the train. Leaving me with a strong "What now?!" ringing between my ears.
Several weeks went by. I tried to forget about that conversation, but something in the back of my mind kept me curious. Occasionally at night, I would find myself lying awake, the image of some strong stranger kissing me, touching me, even taking me from behind would creep into mind. I'd touch myself with my fingers, or rub my vibrator on my clit, and orgasm to an unnamed stranger making me cum. Until the night everything changed . . . .
I was at the gym that day in my usual short shorts, and bright sports bra. Chris, the hot trainer at the gym, caught my eye several times that day, and I was packing up to head out he stopped me. "Hi! It's Kim right? I was wondering if you might be interested in watching the Eagles game tonight with me and some of my friends." I gave Chris a slight smile, and said, "Sure! Why not? Where and when?" He gave me his number and sent me a text with the address. I hurried home to get ready. I went on auto-pilot—showering, shaving my legs and pussy, putting on my make up. I was acting like I was heading out on a date, but I wasn't seeing Mike and it didn't even really hit me what I was doing.
I picked out a cute purple g-string that hugged my smooth pussy tight. A matching purple bra hugged my breasts I finished the outfit with a tight pair of jeans, boots, and a red plaid button up with a few buttons undone. Mike texted me as I was getting ready, but I didn't know what to say, so I left it at, "Love you too! I am heading out to watch the game with a few friends. I'll call you later."
I arrived to the address right on time and rang the door bell. A man about my age opened the door, and I said, "Hi! I'm here for Chris." He responded and said, "You must be Kim. Come on in. Chris is just in the kitchen." I ran up the stairs, my breasts bouncing with every step. I got inside, and Chris offered me a drink. I accepted readily, as he handed me a champagne in a red solo cup. Very classy.
We sat on the couch to watch the game surrounded by his friends (probably 7 in total including us). I met them all, but couldn't much remember their names or faces. Throughout the first half of the game, Chris and I chatted. We told each other about our pasts, and what we hoped New York would bring for us. As the game went on, the drinks loosened me up a bit and he got flirty. A slight touch to the shoulder. A lean in to whisper a joke. And at one point, a hand on my leg. The feeling was unavoidable. I was getting horny. Turned on from the attention, and the bubbliness that champagne always brings.
I stood up and headed to get something to drink from the kitchen. When I turned around, there he was. His gaze setting me on fire. Without hesitation, he pushed me against the kitchen counter. He leaned in for the kiss, and I accepted. Our tongues met, as his strong hands explored my body just around the corner from his friends. He lifted me up and put me on the counter. My legs wrapped around him as he kissed me deeply. I looked over the shoulder to make sure we couldn't be seen, but as his lips touched my neck I though "Oh the hell with it. I don't know these people anyway." His hands grabbed at my ass, and teased my breasts through my shirt, as his cock rubbed my pussy through our jeans. And all of a sudden it hit me . . . Mike. What would he think? Did I just mess up everything?
I stopped Chris in his tracks saying, "Hold on big boy. Your friends are right there and I need to pee. I'll see you back out there in a minute." I ran to the bathroom and pulled out my phone. *Ding* There it was. A text from Mike,
Mike:
Hey babe, how's the game?
I panicked. What do I say? What do I do? My fingers trembled as I wrote back:
Kim:
Hi babe! The game is good. I have to be honest. . . I met someone. Were you serious about your fantasy?
I hit send and stared into the void. *Ding*
Mike:
Yes, I was serious babe. Do you think he's into you?
Kim:
Yes...
Mike:
How do you know?
The moment of truth . . .
