Disclaimer: This a work of fiction. This is not real. It did not/will not ever happen in real life and should not be mistaken as such.
Chapter Forty-Two: So It Goes
Starring Taylor Swift
Codes: MF, Oral, Public, Swallow
*****
2021
The sound of labored breathing filled the room as dumbbells clattered to the ground. Standing tall and stretching, Taylor felt the burn surging through her muscles as she grabbed a towel and wiped down her body. Sitting back down on the bench, she took a long swig from her water bottle. Brushing away the stray sweaty blonde strands clinging to her forehead, she looked towards the door as it opened and Cole entered their home gym.
"Up already?" He asked coming over to plant a kiss on her, sweat and all.
"You betcha." She said, with a quick glance towards the window and the rising sun that was peeking through it. "This body doesn't just happen. The wedding is right around the corner and I want to look really hot in all the photos."
"It's impossible for you to look anything but." He said rather suavely.
Rolling her eyes at him, but smiling nonetheless, she took another sip of water. Walking over to another bench, he began picking out the weights for his usual routine.
"This gym isn't quite like the one we're used to in New York. Is it?" She asked from behind him.
"Not really, no, but I don't mind. I kind of like the privacy. And I'm pretty sure you do too."
"Well, it's not like we didn't have privacy at the other one. I mean, think about some of wonderful workouts we did there together." She said, unable to suppress the sly grin creeping up her face.
Securing his weights on the bar with a huff, he dusted off his hands, turned around and returned her knowing smile.
"Can't argue with that. Although, that had absolutely nothing to do with any of the equipment. Or the gym for that matter."
"I don't know. I think it had something to do with
your
equipment. You've always been a great workout partner."
"You're not half bad yourself Swift."
2016
I had gotten a text from Taylor that morning, asking if I wanted to work out together that day. It wasn't all that unusual; we were known to be the occasional workout buddies. Sometimes that also translated to fuck buddies, but that had not been the case in a long while, ever since her now over a year long relationship. Firing off a quick response, she quickly responded with a time. Changing into my workout gear, I headed over to the gym, figuring I would walk and get a head start on the workout. It didn't take all that long at a brisk pace. The routine was familiar to me by now and when I arrived, I provided proof of my identity, already on the guest list of Taylor Swift. Escorted to a private room, it was essentially our own private gym. Standing around, I stretched, waiting for her no doubt imminent arrive.
The entire floor was covered in thick mats with mirrors taking up an entire wall. Various machines, weights and every kind of equipment imaginable was available for our personal use. I wasn't waiting long, before she strode into the room, alone and unaccompanied. Tight spandex hugged her entire body like a second skin. Her hair was a still a shade lighter than its natural color, a remnant of her short lived
Beachella
style. I couldn't help but give her a covert look up and down as she greeted me with a warm smile and a tight hug.
"How's it going?" I asked as we broke apart.
"Eh, I don't really want to talk about it." She stated rather matter-of-factly.
That piqued by curiosity. Taylor was always a talker. "Something on your mind?"
"No." It seemed a lie. "Let's just work out. Lifting first? Spot me?"
I let it go, as clearly, she didn't want to share what was bothering her. "Sure thing, I'll spot you. Then you can spot me. We'll see who can keep up with who."
Snorting with laughter, she reached down for her weights. We passed the time chatting and catching up as it had been a few weeks since we had spoken. After all was said and done, Taylor still wanted to get in some cardio. Despite the sweat clinging to her supple blonde body, she had plenty of fire left in her.
"Wanna do a little sparring? Bit of boxing? I learned some moves on the set of Bad Blood."
"Bad Blood, huh?" I asked, raising my fists and adopting a quick-footed stance. "Show me what you got, Catastrophe."
Putting her fists up playfully, she squared off against me and said, "So, it goes like this..."
The fight was more for show than anything else. We never even made contact with one another as we squared off, going back and forth until Taylor took it too far and swept my leg out from right underneath me. Hitting the mat with a *THUD*, she was on top of me in an instant. Pinning me to the floor, she held me there as I half-heartedly squirmed in her grip.
"There ya go." She said smugly, her beautiful sweaty face only an inch away from mine.
There was an intense, heavy silence as we stared at each other for a moment. Before I knew was happening, we were kissing. Long. Deep. Passionate. Her tongue was halfway down my throat before my brain finally caught up with my body and I pushed her off.
"What about Adam?" I asked, even as something large and solid surged to life within my shorts.
"It's over." Taylor said quietly, sadness falling across her face. "We've been fighting. Then he went did this unforgivable thing...we had this huge blowup and I haven't heard from him in days. He's gone. It hasn't gotten out yet in the media. Almost no one knows."
"Swift..." I started to say.
But what could I say? That I was sorry? Could I really honestly say that?
"I don't want to talk about it." She said, still staring intensely at me. "I...just want to fuck. To fuck you."
Before I could respond, she was kissing me again. Part of me wanted to talk more about this. To see how she was. To help her through this. To show her I wasn't just some rebound lay she could bang whenever a relationship ended. But this wasn't the first time that this had happened. And it probably wouldn't be the last. So instead, I kissed her back, fiercely. The taste of her tongue intermingled with mine as our bodies wrapped around one another. Rolling her over onto her back, I rested my full weight against her as we sank into one another and the padded floor beneath us both.
Our tongues wrestled back and forth in a vigorous game of tonsil tennis. Feeling her up, my hands roamed over the lithe curve of her body hidden beneath the second skin of spandex. Rolling over again, I found myself on my back as those cupid-bow lips soon left my own, making their way downwards as her hands scrambled to peel off my shirt. Coming off with almost comical ease, my shorts were tossed aside, sneakers kicked off without hesitation. Pushing my legs apart, she settled between them, kneeling with her ass high up in the air. The tubular protuberance held back by my underwear seemed to stare back at her before she revealed it to the open air where it stood tall above me.
"There's that big fat cock I fuckin' wanted." Taylor said, practically drooling as her upper lip curled and beheld the stiff member in all its fleshy glory.
The flat of her tongue extended as her chin hit the mat, back arching incredibly and presenting that delectable ass even higher up in the air. I could see the fabric of her leggings straining in the reflection of the mirror. Any focus on her rear vanished when I felt the broadside of her writhing pink mouth organ press against the base of my dick. In one long quick lick, she had bathed the veiny underbelly in saliva. Suddenly perched at the tiptop of my cock, she opened those pretty pink lips wide and took the head into her gullet before dropping all the down to the base without a second's hesitation. No warmup. No teasing. Just go. And when she hit the bottom, she bounced back up to the top in the blink of an eye. Bright blonde head suddenly bobbing viciously along throbbing pole, I kicked and squirmed atop the mat as a visceral surge of satisfaction surged through me. Big blue eyes looked at me, blinking innocently, as she serviced my member with blinding speed, precision and just the perfect amount of slop.