I went to the gym, not for a casual session, but to try the weights for the first ti as Druski Hart. As Jake Morris, gym had been part of my everyday life—a daily ritual. Now, I doubted that Druski Hart had ever lifted anything heavier than a six-pack of beer.
Maya was there, already behind the desk, and she welcod with a warm smile. Beautiful as ever, her breasts were big as ever, held proudly inside a white, athletic top.
I hoped she could let fuck her tits soday. Sothing I ntally filed on my growing to-do list.
The entire weight room was a sensory assault. There were many other girls here—sexy, toned bodies in impossibly tight outfits that made my cock throb against my shorts just by watching them work out.
But my mind was already fighting a losing battle. The thought of Sasha couldn’t leave my head. The softness of her breasts, the dramatic curve of her hips, the wetness of her pussy, and the way she had ridden , expertly milking the hardness of my cock. My shorts were already tight, and the last thing I needed was to be caught staring at a random girl.
I looked away from the pulsing line of won doing lunges, focusing on the equipnt.
But directly across from , on the main cardio deck, was a woman who forced all my attention. She was running at a blistering pace on a treadmill, her headphones blocking out the world. She wore tiny, neon pink shorts that seed to have been painted onto her.
Her ass was a work of art. A high, round shelf of taut muscle that defied gravity. As she ran, it shook with a srizing, rhythmic oscillation, a perfect, athletic vibration with every stride. It was breathtaking.
Instantly, my mind was flooded with raw, explicit images of having her. Sliding my cock slowly into her tight asshole, smacking her perfect cheeks until they were pink, just to hear her gasp. I felt my face flush.
I imdiately looked away, fighting the intense erection, and focused on the weights. I needed to do sothing physical, anything, to prove the Swagger point I’d just earned.
I decided to try the flat bench press which was an ego lift, even for a beginner. I loaded the bar with what I rembered as my minimum warm-up weight. I lowered it slowly, but when I tried to push it back up, my arms shook violently. I managed two pathetic, grinding repetitions before the bar stalled on my chest. I gave up, humiliated, and tried lighter weights, eventually settling for a weight even my grandmother could have lifted.
As I struggled through a final, pathetic set, I noticed the rhythmic sound of the treadmill had stopped.
The woman was standing still, watching . Our eyes t, and she didn’t look away. Instead she gave a smile. The kind that lts the brain. She stepped off the treadmill and began walking right towards , her sweat glistening, the pink shorts hugging her tightly.
Oh shit, what the fuck do I do now?
She was fucking hot, and she was headed straight for the scrawny guy who just failed at the baby weights. My Swagger was about to be put to the ultimate test.
She stopped right over , leaning down slightly, her breath slling faintly of mint and exertion.
"Rough start, huh?" she asked, her voice low and husky, entirely without judgnt. "You look completely new to the weights."
I felt my cheeks flush, embarrassed by my pathetic performance. "Yeah, first ti trying to lift serious weight," I admitted, standing up and trying to look taller than I felt.
She gave that knowing smile again. "I’m Jess. And I actually coach here sotis. You’re trying to build mass, right? Bench press is great, but your form is off, and you’re wasting energy."
"Druski," I replied, forcing my hand out. Her handshake was firm and dry, conveying powerful strength. "And yeah, build mass. And maybe fix my ’scrawny’ reputation."
She laughed, a short, sharp sound that made her shoulders and the generous swell of her chest bounce slightly beneath the thin fabric. "Well, Druski, I can definitely help with the ’scrawny’ part. Since you’re paying for a mbership, let’s make sure you get your money’s worth."
Jess, the hot fitness coach, was offering to fix . I had to accept.
"I accept," I confird imdiately.
Jess took over, and the next hour was agony masked as instruction. She didn’t let use the bench again. Instead, she put through a grueling, technical circuit designed to activate my stabilizing muscles, focusing on movents that demanded precision and endurance.
Every movent beca an unbearable sensory trial.
As she demonstrated proper form for a squat, her back was to , and those neon pink shorts were pulled tight across her sculpted ass. With every controlled dip, the perfect curve of her glutes tightened and swelled. The motion was hypnotic, and the forbidden imagery of sliding my cock into herasshole flared up again, making my shorts tighter with desperate lust.
When correcting my form, she was relentless, putting her hands on without hesitation—cupping her warm, strong hand just beneath my lower back to enforce proper arch, or resting her palm on my chest to ensure I wasn’t letting my shoulders roll forward. Each casual touch sent a tremor of pure animal desire through .
Even when she was simply talking, every breath and shift of weight caused the perfect, defined curves of her body to move. Her breasts, though athletic, shook with a captivating rhythm that my eyes couldn’t escape.
I was simultaneously failing at every exercise she gave , yet succeeding wildly at fueling my desire. The focus I needed for the workout was being hijacked by my rampant lust.
By the end of the session, I was drenched in sweat and shaking, but my muscles felt fundantally different and properly targeted.
"Alright, that’s enough for today, Druski," Jess said, grabbing her water bottle. "You pushed hard. Sa ti tomorrow?"
"Absolutely," I managed, trying not to pant.
"Good. We’ll start hitting those lats and traps tomorrow. We need to widen that upper body for the cara," she said, giving a final, professional nod.
She turned and headed toward the water fountain, her perfect, muscular legs carrying her away.
I was left alone, physically exhausted but ntally wired. Sasha was locked in for tomorrow night, but now I had Jess, a professional coach who was going to sculpt the body I needed. My motivation to hit the gym had just beco overwhelming.
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