As I feel the cool air of the gym whoosh across my face, I almost can't believe what I am doing. Even for me, this is a first. What if I get caught midway - if one of these innocent civilians stumble onto our private game? For the first time in a long while, I feel a bit of the anxiety that comes along with a first encounter. But chin up, chest out - fastening the knot now sweetens the fruit for later.
I mean. If you'd seen his pictures, you would too.
A few days ago, Max's email popped up in my milking box.
"Hey, I'm Max. 27 years old, straight. I'm getting married soon and I thought I'd kick something off my bucket list before committing for life. I work out a lot, if that helps, haha. Email me back if you want, I guess!"
Once we switched to texting, I found out that "I work out a lot" was a massive understatement. What Max meant to say was: I am a thick cut of hunky premium beef and you'd be a fool to give up on this. On the right side of the hulk physique spectrum, Max's muscles are big and pumped with juicy virile energy. His bronze skin radiates health and vitality, and crowning it all is an angular face with a cute small chin, an exquisite blend of delicate ruggedness. To top this all off - Max works as a personal trainer. It is literally his job to be beautiful.
Lucky girlfriend. But lucky me more. While she gets to bed him in the day, I get to rack him up at night, dipping my fingers and tongue into parts of his mind so dark and forbidden that he protects her from their unholy force. Shadows he can only explore with a trusted secret keeper.
There he is, twiddling his thumbs on the bench by the counter, all buff and waiting to be struck by sexy lightning.
"Max!" I call out, striding across the gym floor. This boy is even more dashing in person. While his pictures captured his bulges and contours perfectly, what they didn't show was his smile. Max fills the place with a large aura and bouncy presence that sparkles like a bright fizzy citrus drink. He's wearing a tempting outfit: the gym's blue tank top and white shorts were practically tailor made for showcasing his gorgeous chest, arms, butt and thighs.
Glancing up at me, Max's face beams with surprise as he realizes that his fantasy is condensing into reality. "You came!" He gasps. We'd discussed this entire scenario over email, but he still has to get over the shock of seeing this disembodied dude on the other side of a fever dream email chat actually show up at his workplace. It's becoming real now; he can't back out of this carnal roller coaster.
"Of course I did, Max! You sent me a very promising, ahem, proposal. I just had to see all of this in action." I gesture in the direction of his muscular assets. Max blushes coyly, embarrassed at the obvious sexual gesture while relishing the attention he signed up for. His cock twitches in his tiny white shorts. He saw, I saw, he saw that I saw.
Emboldened, I lean into that ache where shame and pleasure kissed. "Now, coach, where are we headed?" I ask, my voice rippling like a stream of molten dark chocolate.
Max practically moans non-verbally; I can feel his anticipation vibrate off his skin. "Studio's this way," Max mutters, trying to regain his footing. I can see him trying to tame his loins, teetering so pleasurably on the edge of that burn.
"So, er, what're you hoping to get out of this workout?" He's trying to play this all off normally. Pretend we actually are PT and client, not two men meeting covertly to expiate him of his taboo urges.
I reply him as though I was telling him the time of day. "Oh, you know, the usual. I'm trying to really make my muscles pop. Kinda like yours, actually. Grabbable." Max's face sizzles at such open and blatant desire. This was what he told me he wanted; he'd always wanted to experience a PT sex scenario, but couldn't find anyone who would actually take this on with him. For obvious reasons; he'd lose his job and probably his girlfriend too. But now that marriage was looming near, it was now or never again. And, as he said, seeing my boys' testimonials on my ads made him feel like I would really get him.
Interestingly, Max said that he always knew that his fantasy playmate had to be a guy. "It's just different," he confessed over text; "with a guy, there's so much more of a struggle. We can fight and wrestle - and I can actually lose." As with all my other guys, it's really all about finding the space to surrender, to be strong in your weakness in an honest way that society doesn't allow. Now, I'm no slouch myself. I'm nowhere as big a bull as he is but I'm also pretty well built and I could take him on if I tried really hard. Enough to put up a good fight and let Max taste what it's like to be gripped and tamed.
"Well, then, you're in for a good one," Max quips again. Now that we're easing ourselves into the scenario, he allows himself the space to exhibit his gleeful hunger. The air between us hisses like steam.
I dive in beside his ear before we enter our private room.
"So are you."
Closing the door behind us, Max springs into action like a well oiled machine. Fierce bassy music fills the room and pulses its dark beat into my blood.
"Cool! Welcome to your first training session!" Max declares, as though we aren't just working our way into the hottest sexual adventure of his life. "Today, we'll be focusing on bodyweight exercises. Simple circuit - pushups, squats, crunches. Let's start with some simple warmups. Jumping jacks, five counts of four, let's go!"
My heart pumps in sync with the music. I can see why Max was always fully booked. Like all the best trainers, Max has a distinct charisma that makes you really want to work hard for him. Part of it was in the youthful charm he carried his body with, that winsome smile that told you he believed in you... and was that a mischievous smirk as well, a bit of a rakish streak that was only arising now that he was opening up to the fantasies he's only dreamed of so far?
"Yes, coach!" I holler as he takes me through the jumping jacks and into the crunches and pushups. Heat builds up in my body and mists my neck and arms with sweat. Foreplay scenario aside, I love exercising, and I have a bit of a sub side as well; these are coming together nicely under this spanking specimen of a PT. Let him have his own dom moment while he can.
Firm and encouraging, Max shouts excitedly. "You can do it - keep your core tight and legs strong! Let's go, let's go, let's go!"
I can feel the soft burn of Max's gaze on my back, pushing me to my limits where strength meets willpower. Oh boy, the man is good. This is actually wearing me out for real. Each burpee carved hot aching strokes into my abs and legs, but I push on anyway. I know what he's doing; he's testing me to see if I can earn the right to collar him later.
With a final huff, I push my chest off the floor, drawing myself up to meet Max's height. I take a step closer to him and our heats merge into each other. My body is all pumped with power and ready to go. I jut my chin at him to throw down my challenge.
"Done. Now, your turn."
Max's brows blaze back. We dig gazes like two dogs circling each other. "Oh yeah? My turn to do what?"
I grab him by his tank top and pull his scrumptious chest in.
