Personal Trainer

From the beginning I should say that I don't usually go for muscle-y guys, or even "hot" guys. I crave a particular kind of dirty hot that escapes most sought after modern men. They're too pretty.

But every now and then I catch a glimpse of a perfectly chiseled torso and I get it. It feels very animalistic to admire a great torso and anything that makes you feel primal also makes you feel sexy. It's a feeling like yes, this is the human form in it's most perfect condition and I would not at all mind being underneath it.

This is all to say when I met my physical trainer I was not intimidated by his striking appearance or his Zac Effron abs. Of course he was going to be hot, it was his full-time job to look ridiculous, like being an underwear model but with more busy work. I greeted him with, "I think you should know that I hate working out." I thought he'd laugh or at least smile, but he just locked eyes with me and said, very seriously, "That's not good."

My heart sank. I had signed up for a personal trainer because I did hate working out. I didn't even know how to use a gym. I'd played soccer in school and I loved playing a game, but I hated the workouts involved. Now that I was out of school and writing full-time, I spent way too much time on my ass to not learn how. I foolishly hoped he would take it easy on me.

"You're going to start by emailing me every night to tell me everything you ate that day." "Oh," I replied, "I don't think I have an issue with my diet, I'm just looking to learn how to stay in shape."

"No. I need to review what you are putting into your body. It affects what I will have you do in our sessions." He was so serious.

And so I began ending every night with an email to my stoic trainer, John. I tried to be conversational, explaining anything that looked too unhealthy:

Hi John,

Here's my food for the day:

Breakfast:

1 egg white/1 egg

slice of cheddar cheese

sriracha

Lunch:

1 slices wheat bread

turkey/lettuce/mayo

1 bag pop chips

1 chocolate donut (a coworker brought them in for her birthday)

Snack:

string cheese

Dinner:

Cheeseburger and 1/4 serving of fries (it was a first date, I couldn't order a salad!)

No response. He never responded. He only looked at me disapprovingly when it came time for our weekly session. "Adrienne, you're going to stick to your meal plan this week. Or else I'm going to be forced to punish you next session."

"Isn't working out punishment enough?"

"You haven't seen anything yet." He smirked. It was the first time I'd seen anything resembling a smile. He looked good.

It was then that I realized how attracted to him was. I'd thought about him all week, how I needed to impress him by sticking to my meal plan or by including a funny comment at the end of my email — and how he didn't crack until he talked about punishing me. What did he even mean?

That second training session was harder than the first. Instead of just showing me a bunch of machines and how to use them, we did a circuit, and he watched me complete each rep. I was laying on a bench lifting small dumbbells over my head when I noticed how low he wore his pants. His hands were outstretched spotting me, causing his t-shirt to lift up a bit and exposing a few inches of his very lower abdomen. I think my jaw dropped a bit as I did a double take over his exposed body and up to his smirking face.

Shit. He caught me staring.

He was almost laughing now as he told me to get up. It was time for the treadmill. I followed him groaning internally. "I'm going to push the buttons for you, you're not to touch them. Got it?" What did he mean? "What if I need to run slower?" I asked him. "Adrienne, I know what I'm doing. You're going to need to trust me."

He started me off at 4.0. I could almost walk. "This is a good pace," I laughed. "Nah, you're just warming up." He's an expert, I thought, just trust him this one time and see what happens. And so I did, and it was really an incredible workout. I ran faster and harder than I ever would have on my own and it sucked — but I stuck with it. "I think I can see a little bit about why people do this for fun," I told him.

"I told you you'd like it," He said grinning playfully. "Now go hit the showers and I'll see you here next week." With that he slapped my ass, turned, and walked back towards the trainer's desk. What?

What was he thinking? You can't just slap a woman's ass? That's like, sexual harassment or something. Plus, I was paying him money. The whole thing was weird. I should have been upset, but I wasn't. In fact, if I was honest with myself, I was giddy.

I showered at the gym and replayed the moment a hundred times. Had he tried to pat me on the back and grossly misjudged the distance? Was it a force of habit from his football days? By the time I'd dried myself off and dressed again I'd convinced myself that it was a mistake. A meaningless mistake.

But I caught his eye as I walked from the locker room to the front entrance. And I could have swore he winked.

The next week I was vigilant with my meal plan. I wanted to impress John. I wanted him to be proud of me.

Hi John,

This is what I ate today:

Breakfast:

2 egg whites, 1 egg

onion and red pepper

1/3 cup skim milk

Lunch:

1 whole wheat wrap

1 chicken breast

1 cup mixed peppers

fajita seasoning

Snack:

1/4 cup almonds

Dinner:

1 chicken breast

2 cups broccoli

4 tbsp soy sauce

1 cup strawberries

Hope your week is going well :)

I used a god damn smiley face and he still didn't respond. But I knew he'd have an opinion on my improvement, I just needed to wait until our session.

To my surprise, when I emailed him my final food log before our meeting, he responded:

Adrienne,

The gym is undergoing routine maintenance this afternoon. I moved our session to 10pm.

John

Of course this seemed suspicious. Of course it did. At least, I wanted it to be suspicious. I wanted it to be a farce, for this to be some made up reason for him to get me alone while the gym was deserted. But I couldn't be sure. John was so stoic. And he was perfect looking. Why would he be interested in me?

But I spent extra time getting ready that night anyways. I wore new capri workout leggings that hugged my curves and I showered beforehand, so that my hair was clean and bouncy in my long pony. As I drove to the gym I decided I was nervous. Even if his excuse is real, I have a little crush on him. I want this to go well.

I met him in the secluded, smaller area where we always worked. It was equipped with cardio machines and tons of free weights and weight machines, but it was a bit smaller and quieter than the main gym, for people to work with their clients. Right now, it was completely deserted.

"Hi Adrienne."

John was waiting for me, leaning against a treadmill. He had some five-o-clock shadow around his jaw.

"Hi," I said meekly, probably letting on how nervous I was.

"I told you if your eating habits didn't improve this week I was going to have to punish you." I looked up and John was suddenly in front of me, looming over my small figure.

"But — I did improve! I did really well this week."

"I know you did, and I knew you would. I just think a little punishment is what you need to be completely on the right track."

It was insane, the things that happened inside me when he said punishment. It tugged at a place deep inside and I found myself too willing to feel it again to care that this conversation was reckless.

"Okay."

With that he was on me. He had closed the distance between us and my back was on the trainer's desk and his hips were pressing against me as his mouth found mine. He was a sexy kisser. Way more passionate than I'd expect, but controlled. Rhythmic.

Even so, I couldn't cast my surprise and doubts aside.

I moved away from him. "I don't think we should..." I said the words though I didn't really believe them. This was weird, we were in public. But I always wanted it. Like, really wanted it.

"Adrienne," He said sternly, closing the distance between us, "I think we've established by now that I know what's best for you." He caressed my face with one hand before moving it gently behind my head where it closed, suddenly, on a handful of hair at the back of my head causing me to tilt my head back, exposing my neck. With his other hand on the small of my back he pulled my hips towards his, I could feel his erection as he began nibbling at my neck.

I stepped back again, but this time to hop up on the desk and spread my legs so he could move between them, pressing his crotch aggressively against mine as we kissed. I gave in completely to what was about to happen. The thin lining of his gym shorts and my leggings wasn't keeping anything a secret.

He started pressing his hips into mine rhythmically, I think he couldn't help himself. But realizing that I was going to throw caution completely to the wind and embrace this for whatever it was, I wanted to blow him first, to slow everything down. I slid off the desk and onto my knees in front of him. I looked up — he was smirking again.

His low-hanging gym shorts were no obstacle at all and I simply pulled them down to reveal his erection. I was flattered that he was so hard for me. "Adrienne," He called from up there, "this is what you do to me." He put one hand on his cock and guided it into my mouth and his other hand on the back of my head, guiding my receipt of it.

I was acutely aware that we were still in a semi-public setting and that this was a rushed and probably ill-advised encounter. But it seemed innocent, not dirty. We liked each other. We are humans. Why not give in to what our bodies are telling us?

He was still guiding my blow job, feeding me his cock and then timing his hip thrusts with when he would push on my head and I would bob up and down. Just like how he'd been timing the speed and duration of my runs. I trusted him now. It had been the perfect practice.

I could tell he was really into it be watching his face and feeling how tense he was down there. After a few minutes he guided me up and I removed my pants completely and laid back on the trainer's desk. He laughed for the first time since I'd met him as he grabbed my thighs and pulled my body into his, entering me.

He thrusted hard as he held my thighs, ensuring I wouldn't bounce too far away. He was the same way he was when he was watching me lift, stoic, measured, controlling. He lifted one hand to caress my face and slipped his thumb into my mouth. I welcomed it into my mouth and swirled my tongue around it while I sucked on it. I wanted to show him that I trusted him.

I think that turned him on even more because his speed increased and I delighted in turning him on and gave into the rhythm of his body on mine. He was going to make me cum. This whole time I'd been so good about not making noise but as I felt that tension roll up from my crotch through my bell and my eyes roll back into my head I began moaning. He quickly covered my mouth with his hand and lifted me off the desk, holding me in his arms and continuing to thrust into me while I came all over him.

He laid me down again and came quickly after that. As we got dressed again he dismissed me for the night and I returned home to my first ever personal email from John:

Adrienne,

You've shown a lot of improvement this week. Looking forward to next.

John.