Β© 2010
Roger and I met at a company convention a few years ago. We spoke and had general company conversations a couple of times after that. He works in the Nashville office, and is two managerial levels ahead of me. At this meeting, we are put into a focus group together, and I see him looking at me from time to time β because I am looking at him.
Roger is 48, and I am 34. Roger is white, I'm Black. Roger is 6', 205 pounds, sandy brown hair and brown eyes. I am 5'8", 36C-26-40, with shoulder-length hair and light brown eyes. Roger is already in the hotel fitness facility when I arrive at 6:30 in the morning. I didn't know how long he had been there, but he had worked up a nice sweat. He is doing chin-ups. I find a spot and stretch, then take off my fleece sweatsuit and get on the treadmill. I have on a sportsbra and jogging shorts. I smile a little when I see him look.
About a mile into my run he comes over and speaks to me. We have a short conversation about being the only ones at the meeting to be up working out, then he leaves. A couple of hours later, I see him again at breakfast. He's sitting with his friends and I'm sitting with mine. On the way to the meeting rooms, he compliments me on my business suit.
"Thank you, but I'd much rather have on what I did earlier," I smiled. "If I could, I would workout all day."
"I've never met a woman who fantasized about working out," he grinned.
"I didn't say it was my fantasy, just that I'd love to do it," I laughed.
"Why don't we do it together tomorrow morning then. I'll call you when I'm on my way down."
I gave him my room number, and only saw him in passing the rest of the day. About 10 that night, he sees me at the bar with some of my friends. He comes over and comments about the empty calories I'm going to have to burn off in the morning. I let him know that this glass of wine is my one and only for the night.
"So who is that?" one of them asks with a smirk when he left.
"Roger, from the Nashville office."
"We don't care where he's from; we just want to know where he's going."
I shake my head, "To his room, it looks like to me."
"Don't play dumb, girl."
I laugh, "Y'all know that I am happily married, and am not even thinking about messing that up. We saw each other working out this morning, and are going to workout together tomorrow." I see their expression, then stress, "In the fitness room!"
I put the issue to rest with my friends, but truth-be-told I did feel a sexual stir when I saw him working out. There's just something about a man with the right amount of sweat covering his body.
I brought my favorite vibrator to bed with me. Laying nude in the cool sheets, I tease my nipples until they are hard and my pussy is moist. I move one hand to my clit to get my juices flowing, then replace my fingers with the tip of the vibrator. I slowly increase the speed to maximum, bringing myself to an extended orgasm. I could easily go for more, but I need some strength for the morning.
I am up and ready by the time Roger calls my room. I have on my sweatsuit while we stretched, until we were ready for the treadmills. When I take the sweatshirt off, he tries to discreetly check out my chest. I let him have his look before we start running. There's not much conversation until we stop and move to other pieces of equipment. I like when he touched me as he shows me how to alternate my grips to isolate different muscles, and I make sure to touch him whenever possible too.
Before doing bench presses, he asks if I would mind if he took off his shirt. I try not to sound too eager in my answer. While he is on that, I get on the incline press. He finishes his sets before me, and stands in front of me drinking water as I finish. I don't dare look to see if he was looking at my open legs, because I would lose my grip on the bar if he is. I just concentrate on finishing my set.
He is spotting me on the pull-down machine, his hands on my sides, when he says, "So, about these fantasies of yours."
I keep going in my set, "What about them?"
"Do they ever involve you dancing?"
"I love to dance."
"Onstage?" I feel him looking over my shoulder.
"Ballet?"
He laughs, "No, not ballet."
I finish my set, but stay on the seat, "Classical?"
He shakes he head. "Can I tell you something that will sound corny?"
"Go ahead."
"I'm known for brutally honest, and don't hide very much."
"That approach to life can get you very far."
"You were in my dream last night."
"Oh?"
He looks around as if he is making sure no one was coming. "My friends and I were at a club, a gentleman's club, and you came out on stage."
I raised my eyebrows, "How was I?"
"Magnificent," he whispers. "Your body was one with the music. The crowd loved you."
"Did you tip me?"
He laughs, "I left the club broke!"
"You're sweet; I don't know that a crowd would respond like that to me, or that I'd even have the nerve to do it."
"You have the body for it."
I smile, "You're too kind."
"Well, it was just a dream, right?"
I can't wait to get to my room and into my shower. I lather my body, and then touch myself in all the places I wish he had. I squeeze my breasts, pull my nipples, and aim the showerhead right at my clit until I had a wonderful orgasm.
We look at each other and smile whenever we see each other the rest of the day. I pass by his table at dinner on my way to eat with my girls, and he grabs my hand.
"Same time tomorrow?"
"I didn't slow you down?"
"Not at all! Workouts are better when you have a partner."