Late Night Work Out

I couldn't sleep. I was still angry and hurt over my break-up with a long-time girlfriend. I'd done the crying in my beer thing a couple of nights ago, which turned into a sloppy-drunk, tequila-laden binge that had ended in me worshipping the porcelain god and swearing off ever again drinking the devil-juice, never, ever, ever again.

I wasn't quite ready to renege on that vow just yet, but I couldn't take anymore just lying there and thinking either, and the TV was just a further annoyance. So I decided to go out and burn off some energy.

Right next to my apartment complex was a pretty high-speed gym. I was a member, mainly because they had racquetball courts, and I knew they were open 24 hours. Even at 2am there were several cars in the lot, but there were no opponents at the courts, so I wore myself out smashing the ball against the walls until I was panting and exhausted- an excellent form of therapy.

But the pent-up frustration started returning almost as soon as I got my breath back, so I turned into the free weight room and loaded up a bar on the bench press. There wasn't anyone else in sight. I was never a body builder or a power lifter, but had lifted enough in my high school football days to know my way around a weight room.

I threw on 220 lbs- nearly 40 pounds more than my own weight, and damn near as much weight as I could ever handle back in my playing days. I lay there for several minutes, focusing the anger, and then I exploded the bar up and down, ripping off 5 reps with violent shouts of rage.

Then reality hit me as the adrenalin wore off. Suddenly the bar was unbearably heavy, and I dropped it back down onto my chest with a gasp, unable to even budge it as the strength drained out of me. I lay there, not quite gasping like a fish out of water, trying to gather the strength to fend the bar off me so I could slip out from under it. Luckily, no one was there to see my predicament- I'd have died of embarrassment if any of my buds had seen me trapped like this. I knew dropping the bar to the ground was a major faux pas in a weight room, but it was either that or lay there trapped like a rat until somebody came along to bail me out, so I started saving my strength for the try. I figured I was getting what I deserved for being such a dipstick.

Then a voice said "Hmm. Looks like you're in a bit of trouble. Need a spot?"

I wasn't sure how long she had been there, but she was standing behind me- I had to tilt my head back and look up to get a look at her. What struck me first about her were her shoulders- definitely not the first thing I usually notice on a woman. But hers were muscular and tanned and so damned wide! She wore a white tank top, and her arms put mine to shame, both in bulk and in muscle definition. Her hair was blonde, and her face looked almost elfin from upside down. From my position, I had to look up thru her cleavage to see her blue eyes, and I tried not to shift my eyes to take notice: given that she was my salvation, I figured it'd be a bad move to offend her.

Her own eyes gleamed with what I thought was humor and maybe something else- its hard reading expressions from upside down!

"Yeah, I could use a spot," I said, trying to macho thru this. "I have a few more reps to do." I thought maybe with her spotting me I could crank out a couple more and play it off like I had finished my workout.

"OK, you have 7 more to go to make 12. I'll spot you." She said brightly, moving forward to spot me on the bar, her hands just inside of mine.

Busted. Seven more. She had been watching the whole time, then. The thought filled me with dread and despair: even with a spot, I was not going to be able to do 7 more reps. But on the bright side, my spotter had to lean forward to grab the bar, meaning her torso was leaning forward directly above me. Her six-pack midriff was exposed below the tank top, and she wore a cute little blue belly-button ring. Her tits weren't huge globes, but they were well formed, and her nipples were clearly evident thru the thin material of her top. I was acutely aware that her legs were also very near to either side of my head.

"Ready?" She asked.

I nodded and pushed the bar up. To my never-ending credit, I pushed out 2 more reps before I needed her assist. But by the 10th rep, she was pretty much doing it all herself, and my arms and chest muscles were so much quivering jelly.

She set the bar back on my chest rather than returning it to its rest.

"That all you got?" She asked in a mildly taunting tone, and for the first time I was aware of the hint of a slight lilt to her voice- English, maybe Irish? I was also aware of something else for the first time- a tangy aroma that made my nostrils flare- the delectable aroma of a well-lubricated pussy. I looked up and she was staring straight down into my eyes, a wicked grin on her face.

Then her satin gym shorts blocked my vision as she stepped forward to straddle my head. The tantalizing aroma engulfed me, and I started to reach for her.

Her hands closed around mine on the bar. "No, no, no. Nothing for you until you finish your set of 12."

Galvanized, I thrust upwards, but my muscles- already pushed to the point of fatigue- failed me before I could get the weight more than a couple of inches up.

"Hmm," She said. "For a little kiss, I might help you lift a bit."

She squatted slightly, and her mound pushed against my face through her shorts. My lips found hers, and I munched and prodded at them. It's not easy eating a woman out thru her shorts, but I gave it everything I had. I felt the muscles in her legs tense powerfully, and the bar lifted from my chest.

"Push! And keep busy down there!" She urged me. Definitely Irish. Or Scottish, maybe?

It's wasn't at all easy concentrating on either of the tasks at hand, but I got thru the last two reps – almost entirely with her help, and she effortlessly lifted the bar onto its rest, then came around to offer me a hand up. Without it, I might not have been able to even sit up.

She held out a hand. "Call me Delilah." She smiled warmly, but there was that glint in her eyes, like a linebacker's at the line of scrimmage. "You have some definite talent. Like to try to earn the chance to use it some more?"

I just nodded. Despite my immediate physical exhaustion, I felt a definite stirring in Southern climes.

She pulled me to my feet and led me to the aerobics room, which was lined with mirrors and had heavy padding on the floors and walls.

"OK, it's simple. Pin me, and you can have me." She said, smiling that dazzling smile.

Then she reached out and grappled both my arms. She was just shy of my six feet or so, but despite all her musculature, I probably had her by twenty pounds. When we grappled, I initially felt I was stronger than her, but that notion quickly fled as my arms and chest resumed their trembling. She turned a hip and tossed me through the air like a doll.

I had played sports all my life, and knew how to fall. As I rolled and came up to my feet, she was already stepping out of her clothes, standing naked before me except her shoes and socks. I was stunned at the feral apparition before me- she belonged on a poster, or the cover of a Pulp Fiction magazine.

She waved at me imperiously, and I knew she wanted me to do the same. I shrugged and grinned and stripped my shirt off, then yanked down my shorts. She rushed me while I was tangled up with them between my feet, and had me rolled up into a knot in seconds. She knew what she was doing- I was helpless, my face grinding into the mat, my spine twisted and her legs grape-vining mine so I could get no leverage whatsoever.

She held me a few moments to show her superiority, and then let me go. Just as I was rising she rushed me again. I fell to the floor and tried to throw her over me, but my arms still felt like lead and I was still weak as a kitten, and she just ended up sitting on top of me, straddling my mid-section.

She laughed playfully as she pinned my arms over my head with one hand and gently slapped my face with the other a few times, then tickled my underarms. Growling in frustration, I writhed with all my floundering might, nearly throwing her off, when she reached behind herself and grabbed my cock. That stopped all my resistance immediately. I wasn't quite at full tumescence, but that fixed itself in a hurry. I could feel her sweat and the hot wetness of her cunt pressing against my belly where she lay against me.

She slowly jacked my shaft up and down a few times, staring intensely into my eyes all the while with an expression like she was a conqueror and I was the fallen hero. After a moment of this, she lithely jumped off me and to her feet. "You haven't earned anything yet." She admonished in that cute little lilt.

But I could feel my strength beginning to sneak back into me, little by little. I began circling her slowly, buying time, my eyes locked with hers. She was grinning hugely, and I couldn't help but return it. Besides everything else that this was- erotic, sensual, exhausting- it was also flat-out fun!

When she lunged next time, I met her upright and was able to hold her off long enough to snake my legs between hers and trip her backwards. She giggled as she fell, and I kissed her hotly as I tried to pin her arms to the mat. She returned the kiss a moment, then bench pressed me off of her with contemptuous ease. As quick as a cat she was on me again, and this time she pinned my arms down forcefully, and stuck a tit into my mouth. I suckled greedily, tasting her sweat. She switched to the other for a moment, and then bucked herself backwards to straddle my thighs, still keeping a grip on my wrists, which meant they were now reaching somewhat in front of me.

She eyed my package with calm appraisal. "Not bad." So saying, she dipped down and took a slow, loving taste. She engulfed the whole length of it, placing me deep into her throat without a pause. Then she pulled off and positioned my cock against the lips of her cunt before lowering herself down on it.

I soon found out she had developed pretty much every muscle in her body- at one point I was wondering if she could rip me off at the root with just her pussy muscles. And when she planted her feet to either side, she could squat and stay impaled and simply rise up and down on me like she was doing some aerobic floor exercise, the muscles of her body rippling like a panther.

She sank down deep onto me and raised her torso up erect. "You like my muscles?" She panted, and flexed her pecs, making her breasts bob up and down.

I grinned up at her. "Pose for me, Delilah"

Her eyes lit up, and she went into what was obviously a polished posing routine, displaying biceps and triceps and lats like she was on a stage, all the while grinding into me as I grabbed her hips and held on for dear life. She obviously liked the appreciation she was receiving, and the sensations were intense for both of us as she worked what must have been her whole upper body routine.

Suddenly her cheeks got very flushed and her eyes glittered glassily and she threw both arms up, flexing every muscle in her body convulsively, while screaming like a banshee. I must have shut a couple of quarts of cum into her, and the walls of her pussy kept milking it for more until she collapsed on top me, her head against my chest.

As we lay there exhausted, a hidden door in the mirrored wall swung open and applause burst forth. Delilah raised her head and grinned toward the doorway. "We'll take a bow later." She said, rolling off me to lie flat on the mat beside me.

"Man, I needed that!" I noted gratefully to the gods above.