Feb 282007
 

“I don’t know how you do it,” my wife said. As soon as I got out of bed, she wrapped the sheets around herself, sealing me off from getting back into bed and taking any of her warmth. She looked like a burrito. The alarm clock read 5:00, but my body was swearing to me that it was only midnight. It was too fucking early to get up.

“I have to work out now; I’ll never have time to do it later,” I said. “You should join me.”

“I love you,” she said. In marriage, those words can mean 1,000 things. In this case, they meant, “I love your crazy ass even when you want me to leave this warm bed.”

“I’ll be back before you get up,” I said. By the time I left the bedroom, she was already snoring. By the time I left the apartment, my cock was harder than a 50-pound weight.

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It was so quiet at that hour. The only sounds were coming from the highway a half-mile away. The apartments were deep in sleep, resting before they expel their screaming children, impatient drivers and yapping dogs.

Inside the sound-proof gym, things were much louder. Some college kid with back muscles I can’t seem to achieve was fucking Laura up against the wall. She was keeping her body up by holding onto the bar above her, and I could see her biceps bulging from the strain. Robert was doing squat thrusts right into a chubby blonde whom I see here every morning now. Good for her. Some gyms like to play music, but here we only need the soundtrack of men and women grunting and ducking. It’s very motivating.

“You’re late,” Karen said. She was sitting on one of the benches, wearing only her sports bra. She still had bed hair, her blond locks pointing every which way. Her fingers were buried deep in her cunt while she watched the other two couples.

“I see you’ve done your warm-up,” I said.

“Get your cock over here,” Karen said. “I pigged out this weekend and had two pieces of pizza.”

I shook my head and took off my sweats. “You’re never going to fit into that bikini this summer if you keep this up.”

Karen growled and turned over. She offered her fine ass to me and braced her legs. I could tell she was sucking in her stomach, doing crunches in the short time it took me to get to her. A little trash talk always makes her work harder.

“Damn, your hips do look a little fuller,” I said. I put on my heart monitor.

“Really? Damn it, fuck me already,” she said.

I slid into her and Karen pounded back. We fucked like well-practiced machines. We fucked every Monday through Thursday and swapped up Friday with Frank and his trophy wife, Deena. Saturday was masturbation with the wrist weights on the bicycling machine.

It helps to have a workout partner so you get to know each other’s movements and body. You need the right depth of cunt matched to the right length and girth of cock. You need similar heights for full-body extensions. You need the right mix of sex appeal to get your cock hard and your cunt wet so that you can be ready to fuck six days a week with one day off for resting. I went through three partners before I found the right match in Karen.

“Is that all you got, you pussy?” Karen yelled. “Give it to me like you mean it!

“I would, but your fat ass is in my way,” I snapped back.

We both growled and picked up our speeds.

Ten minutes doggie style, ten minutes with her grinding on top, and then we finished up with me giving it to Karen while her ankles were around my neck. Our heart monitors let us know when our fucking was below the cardio levels, and we would trash talk some more till we were grinding our calories away. She climaxed at the 18-minute mark, but we kept fucking no matter how sensitive she got. Sometimes you have to suffer for fitness.

I came in her mouth, my little reward for getting up on this cold Monday morning. It was a better motivator than a fucking Weight Watchers muffin, let me tell you.

We showered together in the fitness center, both of us too worn out to even flirt. My arms were sore, so Karen got my back. Her knees were hurting, so I bent down and washed her legs. Partners do that sort of thing for each other.

I went back into my apartment. The wife was still snoring. I envied her for just a moment. Then I thought about how much she liked my new harder look. I thought of how much she moaned when she felt the muscles in my thighs and how she liked the way I look in my jeans again. I was jealous of her sleep, but I wouldn’t give up how much I turned her on now for anything.

Still, it would have been cool if she came to work out with me.

  One Response to “Fiction: Gym of Sin”

  1. Well, they always say that a couple that works out together has a higher level of intimacy than those who don’t. Sadly, I don’t have the discipline to handle that type of gym.

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