My Gym Partner Ch. 01

I'm a forty five year old married woman. Not a beauty by most accounts, but not unattractive. I have put on a few pounds, and I don't always keep my hair colored. My breasts have a bit of sagginess to them from a round of nursing and my tummy roll covers my c-section scar. Still, I'm tall and curvaceous, so I can get away with some excess. I believe in keeping myself in decent shape, I'm just not obsessive about it. My husband tells me he loves me no matter how I look, and I've let that be an excuse to get lazy. My best friend Jill has been after me to go to the gym with her for months.

"Just come with me once as a guest and see how you like it," she asked again just yesterday.

I finally decide it couldn't hurt and the next Saturday we meet outside the gym. Jill shows up in a cute pair of hot pink yoga pants and a white tank top. She has a round, firm ass that looks incredible in her form-fitting work out clothes. I can see she's wearing a hot pink sports bra under that tight white tank. Jill's breasts have large dark areola, and in the sunlight, I can see a faint outline of nipple. Her face is free of make up, her hair is in a pony tail, and she looks like she would taste like strawberry ice cream. I'm sure every guy and some of the girls would love the chance to find out if that's true. I'm curious myself, but I have never considered broaching the subject with her until just this second.

"Come on, time's wasting," she says as she threads her arm through mine and practically drags me in to the gym, breaking me out of my reverie about her flavor.

It is everything I expected it would be; bodies sweating, contorting, moving at inhuman speed to music pulsing from their ear buds to their brains. There is no way I am going to fit in here and am already thinking up an excuse to leave. That's when I hear his voice from a few feet away.

"Jill, so good to see you! Who's your friend?"

I look over to see the owner of this musical voice and there is quite possibly the most striking man I have ever seen. Adonis would have shrunk away from him in embarrassment. Ice blue eyes, dimple in his left cheek, neatly trimmed hair that curled slightly with his sweat, muscular but not muscle-bound. Tall enough I had to tilt my head up to look him in the eye.

"Oh Michael, this is my friend Helena. I'd love it if you would show her around for me. Be gentle, it's her first time," she smiles innocently.

"Um, you don't have to do this, I'm sure I can find my way around," I say, while I glare daggers at Jill.

"Oh I would not turn down an opportunity to spend time with a goddess," he winks, letting me know he knows the origins of my name.

I know part of his job is to flirt up the customers and schmooze them into purchasing a membership. It's been a long time since anyone flirted with me, though, so I resign myself to enjoy the attention.

Michael walks me around the outer edge of the equipment, explaining each area's focus; weight loss, weight training, stamina, strength. I'm trying to focus on his words, but he's walking not quite a step ahead of me and I'm having a hard time not focusing on his ass. That firm, slightly round, well-defined ass, that melts into his toned thighs.

"So, Helena, is there a particular area where you would like to start today?" he asks with what I think may be a mischievous grin.

"Let's start at the top and work our way down," I say in what I hope is a casual, flirtatious voice. It's been awhile.

"Arms it is, then," he says, and points to one of the machines nearby.

He shows me how to sit on the bench correctly, legs apart, then stands behind me. He tells me to put my hands over my head, and grips the bar and pulls down, showing me how to perform the exercise. He is standing very close to my back, his thighs brushing against me. If I leaned back, my head would be resting on his crotch. I have to fight very hard to keep from doing that. I do ten repetitions and let the bar go too fast on the last one, and it hits the top of the machine with aloud "clank". This time my head did brush his crotch as I jumped at the racket. Did I detect a hint of firmness? Hard to tell in just that moment.

Michael takes me around to a few other machines, and we talk between stations. He is older than I thought, 36, never married, a bit of a loner. He tells me about some of his world travels and how he longs to return to Italy some day for good. I am having a hard time not losing myself in those blue eyes. Everything he says sounds like music. I am disappointed, but a little relieved too, when Jill comes around the corner. I am having a hard time keeping my hands to myself around Michael.

"Ready to shower, Helena?" she asks.

I look up at her and see she has worked up quite a sweat. Her nipples are stiff beneath the thin fabric of her top and sports bra. Her appearance pulls me out of my Michael fantasy but steers me right into a Jill in the shower fantasy. I am going to have to get my husband in the mood when I got home that afternoon. Michael extends his right hand for me to shake, I think, but takes my hand to his lips for a kiss instead.

"It was my pleasure to be your guide today, and I hope I have that pleasure again very soon," then he bowed and walked away.

Jill and I watch in silence as we admire the view of him walking away.

"I'd love to get a piece of that," she whispers to me and giggles.

"Who wouldn't?" I reply as we head to the shower room.

Most of the shower stalls are full when we get to the dressing room. Jill finds an empty stall near the corner.

"Oh Helena, we can use this one," she says.

I assume she means we will take turns. I sit on the bench in front of the stall and watch her undress. Jill has no modesty. I don't know if she knows how beautiful she is, of if she just doesn't care what other people think. Either way, she exudes an enviable lack of self consciousness. Me, I tend to be a little more inhibited, especially in front of more than one person. When Jill is standing there naked, she turns to me and looks surprised.

"Aren't you going to join me?" she asks.

I have never showered with another woman, not even in gym class. The thought of being naked, with Jill, that close to her, is really turning me on, though.

"Well, I guess it would save some time," I say out loud.

I stand and undress quickly, before I can lose my nerve. Jill steps into the shower stall and turns to face me. I step in and we are so close my nipples would have touched hers if they didn't point as low as they do now. Jill lathers up then hands me the body wash. It smells faintly of mint, lavender, and something else. Or is that Jill's scent I am detecting through the bubbles? She washes her body with her hands. I imagine washing her body with my hands. I must have been staring because Jill used her fingers to spray water at my face.

"About ready to get out?" she asks.

I have this vision of pushing her back against the stall and telling her I am not about ready to get out. That I am not going to get out until I lather up every inch of her body. But she is looking at me with a weird look, so I figure I had best just rinse myself and forget this.

"Yep, let's go," I manage to reply.

I step out first and grab a towel. There is a woman standing near our bench.

"Ah, may I have that stall?" she asks.

Then she sees Jill step out. She looks at Jill for a moment, then back to me.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says, smiles to herself and walks to another stall.

"No telling what she thought about us," Jill grins.

I'm thinking to myself if Jill only knew what I was imagining in there a few minutes ago, what might have transpired?

I am hoping we might run into Michael on our way out, but he's not around. We leave the gym and stand on the corner to wait for a cab. When one pulls up to the curb I tell Jill to take it, I want to walk the few blocks home.

"Might as well keep up this fitness thing while I'm still in the mood," I tell her.

She smiles and gives me a kiss on the lips. It is light, like a kiss to the cheek would be, except she kissed my lips instead. We have always been touchers, hugging, holding hands when we talk, that sort of girl-friendy sort of touch. I don't think she's ever kissed my lips until today, though. Maybe I am just noticing because I am feeling aroused.

I watch her cab pull away and begin my walk up the street. I am aware of my labia, swollen and aching between my legs. Walking causes the lips to rub together, and I am aware of my clit, swollen, being caressed between my lips. I have to tell myself not to touch my nipples; they are tingling and stiff. I see a coffee shop and duck in. I walk straight back to the ladies room. I shove my hand down the front of my sweats and find my clit. I rub for a minute, maybe two. There's a knock at the door.

"Be right out," I manage to get out at the moment I begin to climax.

I switch hands so I can use my pussy-flavored finger to stifle my moans. I am completely shocked at my behavior. I pull myself together and open the door. The lady who was waiting gives me a glare, like she knew what I was doing. She pushes by me and I move out of her way. At least now I should be able to make it the few blocks home without embarrassing myself further.

I arrive home to an empty apartment. The note on the bar says:

Danielle is out with Alex. I'll be back around 7.

This means I have a couple of hours to entertain myself. The orgasm in the coffee shop had worn off by now, the self induced ones never hold me long. I step out of my clothes and into my pj's. I don't plan on leaving the apartment again today, so I might as well be comfortable. I sit down at my computer to sort out my email. The usual spam, a few forwards from friends. A new message from Jill:

I had such a good time with you at the gym today. Let's do it again! ~Jill.

We hadn't really spent any time together at the gym, except in the shower.

I answer her back: Me too, when is good for you? Helena

How about tomorrow? ~Jill

This email arrives less than 3 minutes after I sent mine. I didn't expect a response so quickly.

Do you yahoo? she adds. I have no idea what she is talking about. I am trying to decipher this message when the phone rings. It is Jill.

"Do you use messenger?" she asks. I feel silly telling her I don't know what she's talking about.

"Oh, let me tell you how to set up your instant messenger," she says.

She talks me through it and sends me a message: Hey baby! Welcome to the wonderful world of modern communication!"

"You know, there are all sorts of fun things you can do on here" she says. "There are a lot of adult chat rooms where you can flirt and play".

"Why on earth would I want to write to someone I don't know and flirt?" I ask. It doesn't sound like a lot of fun to me.

"Give it a shot. You can practice with me," she says.

Oh, what is this? Is she flirting with me, or just playing?

"I think it would be easier to flirt with a man, someone I don't know," I say.

"Oh," she says. Is that disappointment I detect in her voice?

"Well all you have to do is go to one of the chat rooms and introduce yourself," she says.

She gets me through that hoop too. I am not prepared for the barrage of "private message" requests that covers my screen. Jill laughs when I ask what to do.

"Answer one..see what happens.". I wait a few seconds, a little nervous. I take a deep breath.

The first message to catch my eye was this:

Goddess Helena, I request the honor to worship at your feet. The sender's name is listed as Mitch.

This is the second time today my name has been interpreted. I search my mind for a clever, witty, just not completely stupid reply.

Worship? How can I refuse?

I ask Jill what she thinks of it. She says it's good, send it. So, I click "send". I feel my heart skip a beat.

The waiting is painful. I run through my litany of self doubt and loathing; I am old, I am fat, I am lazy, I am boring, my mind is eroding. The list runs continuously when I am feeling insecure. The more insecure I feel, the louder it runs.

May I ask where my Goddess is tonight? appears on my screen.

I type back I'm in NYC. Then I panic. I share this with Jill.

"Don't worry, it's a big city, you're safe," she says. "Just don't give out your address or phone number".

I certainly don't need a stalker. I don't want my husband to find out about this when the cops show up and tell him there's been contact with a serial killer through our home computer. I panic and close the chat window with Mitch, or who ever he is. Jill laughs again and tells me to call it a day if I'm too nervous. then she asks me if I'm up to another trip to the gym tomorrow. I tell her sure, I'll open my membership and she can be my motivation.

"I think Michael is your motivation, but whatever!" she laughs. "See you tomorrow, say around 2?"

I agree, she tells me to enjoy the rest of my afternoon, then she's gone. I close my eyes and see her pretty breasts, covered in lather, being massaged by Michael's strong hands. I am on my knees in front of her, rubbing her mound, nuzzling her tummy. I know the quickie on the way home is not going to satisfy me today. I am wondering if I should go to the bedroom when I notice a new email. It is from Mitch. How in the hell? My hands are shaking when I open it:

Goddess, if I have offended, please accept my sincerest apologies.

I certainly am not offended. I am just terrified, is all. My female need to reassure overcomes my terror, though. Or is it curiosity? A need for a little danger? I click the reply tab:

You have not offended. I am very new to this. Brand new, if you must know. Please accept my apologies for my abrupt sign off.

I sit and stare at this email for awhile. I am pretty certain if I don't reply, I will never hear from Mitch again. But I want to hear from him again. I know it is wrong, but I do. I think about waiting until tomorrow, giving it 24 hours. Before I can decide, I receive another email from him:

Your hesitancy, I hope, is temporary. Be assured, I am a man who places honor above all else. I hope to hear from you, but can be satisfied knowing we touched, even briefly.

I pull my previous response up and read it again. I decide to send it. I do it quickly, before I can change my mind. It is done now, nothing I can do about it. I sit there and wait for a reply. Perhaps I hesitated too long. I look at the clock and see I had been sitting here much longer than I thought, I don't have much time before Dave will be home. I switch off the computer and go to the kitchen to get started on dinner. I am nervous, excited, certainly horny. I hope my husband's in the mood for some fun when he gets home.

Alex arrives a few minutes before I've got dinner ready. I ask her to clear and set the table.

"Oh Mom, let me check my email first," she says. She sits down to the computer and begins reading.

She asks if I want her to check mine for me. "No!" I say, a little louder and a littler sharper than I intend. I have a momentary panic, thinking she's going to see my correspondence with my new acquaintance.

"I don't know why you even have an account, you never use it," she says.

I let it go, knowing she will finish faster if I leave her be. I finish dinner, and ask her to set the table, again. I hear her heavy sigh and know she's rolling her eyes at me, but I want to check my email myself before Dave gets home. While Alex is putting out the flatware I open my email, and there's a new message from Mitch. Do I open it with Alex so close? I can't stand to wait, so I open it:

Goddess, let me be your guide. I give you my word it will be a pleasurable experience. I await your reply.

I'm staring at this message when I hear Dave's keys in the door. I panic and can't find the button to make the email disappear from my screen. I just hit the power button and pray the screen goes black before he's across the floor. He walks up behind me and kisses my neck. The power finally disconnects and the screen goes black. I breath a heavy sigh of relief, which Dave interprets as a response to his kiss on my neck.

"That tense after your workout with Jill?" he asks.

I laugh, trying to sound natural. I tell him I am going to try to start going a few times a week, and he smiles. He never tells me I can't do anything, but he knows about my short attention span. He asks about fees, and when I tell him I can pay by the month, he's good with that. We settle in to dinner and share the chatter of the day. I try to focus on the conversation, but my mind is focusing on Mitch, and Michael, and Jill. I nod and smile, interject an "um hm" on occasion so it appears I'm listening. I can't wait to get the dinner dishes cleared and get everyone tucked in so I can respond to Mitch. I try my hardest not to rush, but when I take Dave's plate before he's finished his pie, he wants to know my hurry.

"I'm just tired, and want to get to bed," I wink at him. He winks back.

"I'm sure Alex wouldn't mind doing the dishes," he says to me.

Alex starts to protest, but Dave silences her with a promise of a trip to the museum tomorrow.

With that handled, he takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom. Alex mutters something under her breath about her parents acting like teenagers. Sometimes the girl is right.

Dave's hands on my body are warm, soft, familiar. He knows all the places that make me laugh, cry, sing, and scream. Sometimes, he can make me do all of these things at once. Tonight he is sweet, almost tentative. He kisses my face, my ears, my neck. My hands are on his neck, running my fingernails gently along his spine. We can kiss like this for long minutes, sometimes hours. He holds my head in his hands, then runs his hands down my arms and holds on at my elbows. Our legs are scissored together and I can feel him getting hard. I moan into his mouth, my signal I am ready for more. We break our kiss to get undressed. When there's nothing left to get in our way he rolls over on top of me and kisses me some more. I wrap my legs around him and pull him close. He kisses, licks, and nibbles down my neck to my breasts. He takes one nipple in his mouth and sucks, gently, tickling me with his tongue. I arch my back, involuntarily, and moan loudly. Encouraged, Dave stays with this slow, tantalizing pace. I do everything I can to get more of my nipple in his mouth, but he's not budging. In fact, he let's it fall from hs mouth, then licks a slow line ocross my chest to the other nipple. He kisses it, let's his mustache tickle before he takes it in his mouth. He bites just hard enough to make me gasp, then flicks it with the tip of his tongue. I wrap my legs around him tighter and we kiss. He starts to work his way down my chest, to my belly, and I am suddenly aware of my tummy fat. I am struck by how unsexy it must be. Dave can sense a change in me.

"What's the matter babe?" he asks, while he covers my tummy with kisses.

I don't know what to say. Why would tonight be any different from any other night he has worshipped at my belly? He has always enjoyed touching me there, and I have always enjoyed his touch there. I tell him it just tickled. But why am I feeling self conscious? I close my eyes and relax, breathe slowly, deeply, enjoy the sensations. Soon I am back in my happy place, my lover making me whole. When he nuzzles my pussy my legs fall apart to him and I let him devour me. He eats pussy like a man who is starving for it. Every lick, suck, nibble choreographed to bring me perfect pleasure. He knows my soft spots so well he can make me come in minutes. Tonight, it's a long, soft, fluttery orgasm he brings with his tongue. Not a screaming, earth shattering climax, but the kind that warms me from the inside. When he slides up my body and enters me, I am still enjoying the gentle spasms. I love how he feels on top of me, inside me. We kiss and look each other in the eye as we rock together. If we never said a word to each other again, it would be okay if we could have this closeness. He waits until my hips start to buck harder before he increases the tempo, and when I cry out he's right there with me, burying his face in my neck and biting to keep from disturbing Alex too much. I laugh, not because it's funny, but because it's such a chivalrous move on behalf of his daughter. I don't know how I deserve this man's heart. When he rolls off me I snuggle up close and close my eyes. I drift off to sleep, forgetting all about Mitch and Michael.