Gym Junkie

Oh God.

Both of our mouths fall open; his in pleasure, mine in shock. Our eyes are locked.

“I would tell you that I want you to contract that beautiful, tight cunt around my fingers.” He pumps me hard and I cry out. “Earn it,” he growls, pumping me so hard again with his fingers that my legs come up automatically.

It’s near painful, but God damn, the burn is good. “B-brock,” I pant heavily.

What the actual fuck is happening here? I’m in a gym bathroom, being dirty-talked and finger-fucked by a God.

My face scrunches up as I look down at him. This is too much. I’m too turned on. This is too public.

I don’t even fucking know this guy.

As if sensing my fear. “Kiss me,” he whispers up at me. My lips take his again, and this time his kiss is soft and tender. He slowly fucks me with his thick fingers, my legs are splayed open over his parted thighs.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs against my mouth.

That’s it, I can’t take it anymore. I spiral out of control and clench hard around his fingers. Brock growls in appreciation as I come in a rush.

My body jerks violently, forcing me to release a throaty moan as he continues his onslaught. His large fingers slowly circle through my dripping flesh. I’m swollen and tender.

We kiss, and it’s not a crazy arousal kiss. It’s a kiss of appreciation, as if somehow, he already knows that I’m not the type of girl who would normally ever do this sort of thing.

Our lips are locked, and I smile against him. “What… the hell?” I pant. “What just happened?”

He looks up at me as he licks his lips, and I know he’s contemplating his next words. His hair is dishevelled and arousal dances in his eyes like fire.

“I’m not having sex in a gym,” I whisper.

“Then come home with me.” His eyes are fixed on my lips, and I know he’s still rock hard under those shorts.

“I don’t even know you,” I whisper.

“What a perfect way to get to know me.”

I smile shyly, and we kiss again. Sense returns at once. Leave. Now. I stand, and he stands too, leaving our faces only millimetres apart. My heart is still racing from my orgasm. “I have to go. I had no idea the kind of medical service you were offering for a skinned knee.”

“You got the intensive treatment.” He lifts my chin with his pointer finger and brings my face up to meet his. “It’s nice to meet you, Tully Pocket.” He kisses me softly.

I smile as mischief shines through. “The pleasure was all mine… literally.”

“Bitch,” he whispers with a cheeky grin.

I look to the door. “I have to get going.”

He frowns. “Are you really going to leave me in this state?” He points to his crotch.

I smile and kiss him quickly. “Lucky for you, you have a good imagination and can easily imagine my lips around your cock. Finish the job for me when you get home.”

“Tully,” he groans.

I take off, leaving the bathroom and hearing the door bang behind me.

Jesus, I’ve got to get out of here before he talks me into going home with him. I power walk to the shelves where my bag is waiting at the front.

Did that really just happen?

I pick up my bag and head for the front door when I hear the bathroom door bang open. “Tully Pocket!” Brock calls.

I close my eyes with my back to him. Damn it, I nearly got out of here. He jogs the length of the gymnasium until he’s close to me, and I turn to face him.

“I’ll see you here tomorrow night?” he asks hopefully. “Same time?”

I stare at him for a moment and bite my bottom lip.

He cringes suddenly. “Oh, shit. I can’t tomorrow night. I have a thing on for my sister’s birthday.” He thinks for a moment. “I’ll see you here Thursday night?”

I stare at him.

“Nine o’clock.”

“How many women do you pick up at the gym?” I ask.

He smiles softly. “Only one. You.”

I fold my arms over my chest and tilt my head to the side, waiting for him to tell the truth.

“No, seriously.” He laughs. “I have never done anything like this before. Not in a gym, anyway.”

I roll my eyes and try to act unimpressed, but I soon have to turn to hide my smile. “Goodbye, Brock.”

“Where’s my goodbye kiss?”

I turn and blow him a kiss. He pretends to catch it and then plants it on his face.

Our eyes linger on each other as the air crackles between us. He smiles softly as he watches me. My stomach flips as I walk away from him.

There is something about this guy. Could be the white-hot orgasm he just gave me, of course.

Damn. Go home, whore bag.

With renewed determination, I turn towards the door.