after hours
the gym was supposed to be empty. the only sounds were the low thrum of a trap beat from the speakers and the rhythmic, heavy clank of iron. from across the room, i watched jamal finish his last set of deadlifts. the muscles in his back coiled and uncoiled like thick pythons under his dark, glistening skin. he was a fucking masterpiece.
i walked over, my sneakers silent on the rubber flooring. my path took me right behind him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body. i ran a single, manicured nail down his spine. “form’s good,” i said, my voice a low purr that was anything but professional. “perfect, actually.”
he racked the weight with a final, satisfying crash and turned to face me. a good foot taller, a monument of a man. he looked down at me, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “that what you’re checking for, tiff? my form?”
my eyes did a slow, deliberate crawl down his chest, past the chiseled abs, to the very obvious, very thick bulge straining the fabric of his grey gym shorts. my whole ‘professional trainer’ persona was a flimsy excuse, and it had already evaporated.
“i have a thing for good form,” i whispered, stepping into his space, my hand sliding from his back around to his stomach, my fingers tracing the ‘v’ of his hips. “and i have a thing for big, strong, black men who look like they could snap me in half and fuck me back together.”
his smirk widened into a grin. “bet.”
that was all the invitation i needed. i backed him up against the squat rack, the cold steel a stark contrast to our hot skin. my hands went straight for the drawstring on his shorts. “i have a rule,” i said, my fingers working the knot loose. “clients aren’t allowed to fuck the trainer… but i ALWAYS make exceptions for my favorites.”
a low groan rumbled in his chest as i freed him, his thick, dark cock springing into my waiting hand. it felt impossibly hard. “am i your favorite, tiff?” he asked, his voice thick with lust.
i didn’t answer with words. i dropped to my knees on the mat, the smell of sweat, iron, and pure man filling my senses. looking up at him, my blonde hair a mess around my face, my eyes dark, i brought his tip to my lips.
“let’s just say,” i mumbled, before taking his full length into my throat, “you’re about to get a very… personalized training session.”
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