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Gym Sluts Getting Fucked

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7
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 7 chs / week.
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Synopsis
A hardcore collection of gym sex stories where sluts get fucked hard. From locker rooms to weight benches.
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Chapter 1 - Personal Training

"Last set," Erin said, her voice unyielding with the professionalism that Alethea had come to associate with these sessions. "Let's finish strong."

Alethea had been coming here twice a week for three months now, ever since her agent had insisted that she needed more muscle definition for the upcoming athletic wear campaigns. She'd resisted at first, tried to explain that she'd maintained her body through a successful modelling career for nearly ten years now without help, but if she was honest with herself the results spoke for themselves.

And, if she was really being honest with herself, which she rarely was about such things, the results weren't the only reason that she kept coming back...

She was on her back on the bench press, arms trembling slightly from the previous sets. She'd noticed Erin standing closer than usual today, close enough that Alethea could smell her clean scent, something fresh and floral, mixed with the faint but not unpleasant tang of sweat from demonstrating exercises.

Even from this angle, Erin was striking... her blonde hair pulled back in a short ponytail that showed off the elegant line of her neck, her shoulders broad and defined in a way that spoke of a career of needing to be in good shape, of working out regularly because it was literally her job. So different from Alethea's usual type, meaning not a fellow model, but that was part of the attraction...

"I've got you," Erin said, positioning herself at the head of the bench, hands hovering near the bar. "Eight more. You can do this."

From this angle, Alethea could see the defined muscles in Erin's arms, the way her fitted sports bra pulled across her chest as she leaned forward. It was distracting in a way that Alethea, who prided herself on her professional focus, found increasingly difficult to ignore.

Focus, she told herself, gripping the bar. But her arms were already fatigued, and by the sixth rep she was struggling.

"Come on," Erin encouraged, her hands now lightly touching the bar, providing just enough assistance. "Two more. Push through it."

Alethea gritted her teeth, pressing up for the seventh rep. Her arms shook violently on the eighth, and Erin's hands fully gripped the bar, helping guide it back to the rack. Their fingers brushed in the process, and Alethea felt something electric shoot through her...

Which was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. She'd touched countless people in her line of work. Touch was just business. If she got excited every time she made contact with another woman she'd never get any work done.

"Good job," Erin said, but she didn't immediately step back. Instead she stayed there, looking down at Alethea with an expression that wasn't quite professional anymore. They were nearly the same height when standing, but from this angle, with Erin above her, Alethea felt uncharacteristically vulnerable. "You've been pushing yourself harder lately."

Alethea sat up, accepting the towel that Erin offered, using the moment to collect herself. "Athletic wear campaigns coming up," she said, her voice breathless but steadier than she felt. "Have to be ready."

"You're already ready," Erin said quietly, a slight smile playing around the edge of her mouth. "You've been ready for weeks."

The words hung between them. Alethea knew that she should stand up, make some excuse about needing to get to another appointment or go and meet a friend.

This was Erin's last session of the day, Alethea had deliberately scheduled it that way to avoid the gym's busier hours, wanting to swerve the men in particular who liked to accompany their workout with not too subtly trying to get an eyeful of a model doing their own exercise. The studio was empty except for them, had been since the start.

Instead, she found herself saying, "Am I? Sometimes I feel like I'm just going through the motions."

Erin moved around the bench, sitting down beside her. Too close. Not close enough. This close, Alethea could appreciate the way Erin's body was built, not the lean, almost fragile aesthetics of a fashion model, but the powerful physique of an athlete. Her arms showed defined muscles that shifted beneath tanned skin, her thighs solid and strong beneath her fitted shorts without being excessive. She was beautiful in a way that had nothing to do with conventional standards and everything to do with her capability and confidence. "In training or in general?"

It was such a direct question, so unexpected from someone who'd maintained perfectly professional boundaries for three months, that Alethea actually laughed. "Both, maybe."

"I know the feeling," Erin said. She was looking at Alethea with those green eyes that felt like they saw too much. "Sometimes you just want something... real. Something that isn't planned or scheduled or part of the routine."

Alethea's heart was beating faster than it had during the entire workout. This wasn't how she worked. She was always in control, always the one who decided when and how things progressed. But sitting here, acutely aware of the mere inches between them, she felt that control slipping.

"Erin," she started, not sure if she was about to establish a boundary or cross one.

"I know," Erin said softly. "I know this is probably completely inappropriate. You're a client. I have rules about this stuff. But..." She paused, seeming to gather courage. "But I've been pretending for weeks that I don't notice the way you look at me. And I've been pretending I don't look at you the same way."

Erin's admission hit Alethea like a wave. She was used to being desired... it was a part of her job, her daily reality. But this felt different. Erin wasn't looking at her like she was a beautiful object or a fantasy made flesh. She was looking at her like she saw her, the person beneath the carefully constructed image.

"I should go," Alethea heard herself say, even as she didn't move.

"You should," Erin agreed, also not moving. "This is... this could complicate everything."

They sat there for another heartbeat, then two, then three. Then Erin's hand moved, just slightly, until her little finger was touching Alethea's where it rested on the bench. Such a small point of contact, but Alethea felt it through her entire body, like an electric shock if there was ever such a thing as a good one.

"Fuck it," Alethea breathed, and turned to face Erin fully.

What happened next was nothing like the planned seductions that Alethea was used to driving. There was no slow lean-in, no practiced moves. They came together almost violently, mouths meeting in a kiss that was all hunger and suppressed want. Erin's hands were in her hair, and Alethea heard herself make a sound she'd never made before, something raw and needy that would have embarrassed her if she'd had any capacity at that moment for thought.

Erin pushed her back against the bench press's upright support, and Alethea let her, surrendering control in a way that should have terrified her but instead sent arousal flooding through her body. This wasn't like her encounters in the evenings on photo shoots, where even in passion with whichever model she'd hooked up with she maintained some professional distance. This was all consuming.

"The door," Alethea managed to gasp when Erin's mouth moved to her neck.

"Locked," Erin whispered against her neck. "Last session. I always lock it for the last session."

No you don't, thought Alethea, but she didn't care... the implication of that untruth made Alethea groan in anticipation. Erin's hands were under her sports bra now, confident and sure, and Alethea pressed towards her, not caring that they were in a gym, not caring about anything except getting closer.

Somehow they ended up on the padded floor mats, Alethea on her back with Erin above her, both of them frantically pulling at clothing. In no time Alethea was naked and Erin not far behind.

Through the fog of desire, Alethea's gaze caught their reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors that ran along one wall of the studio. The sight made her breath catch... her own long, lean model's body laid out on the mat, all angles and curves, olive skin and dark, long hair in a ponytail. And above her, Erin... the same height but built so differently, her muscles defined from years of training, moving with an athlete's controlled power, paler skin but a deeper tan with tan lines where her clothes had come off.

The contrast was mesmerizing. Where Alethea was all elongated lines and fashion-perfect proportions, Erin was strength and functional beauty. Watching Erin's shoulders flex as she moved, seeing the definition in her arms, the solid strength of her thighs... it was like watching two different types of art interact. Alethea had been photographed with countless models, all sharing her similar willowy build, but this, this difference, this complementary opposition, made her pulse race even faster.

"You're watching us," Erin whispered, following Alethea's gaze to the mirror, a lustful grin reflecting back at them. "Good. Look at how perfectly we fit together."

The visual was almost too much... seeing herself naked beneath Erin's powerful frame, watching her own face contort with pleasure while Erin took one of her nipples between her lips. Alethea's carefully maintained composure was completely gone. She was babbling something... encouragement, pleas, she wasn't even sure... as Erin's mouth travelled down her body.

"I've wanted this for so long," Erin confessed, her breath hot against Alethea's stomach. "Every time you came in here, every fucking time..."

"Shut up and don't stop," Alethea commanded, but it came out more like begging. She was already so wet, had been from the moment they'd kissed, and when Erin's mouth finally found her centre she cried out loud enough that she was grateful for the studio's soundproofing.

Erin knew exactly what she was doing. Her tongue was insistent, purposeful, reading Alethea's responses and adjusting to what she needed. Alethea's hands reached for Erin's blonde hair, holding her there, hips rolling against her mouth without any of her usual restraint.

The orgasm built faster than Alethea was prepared for. She was used to being in control of these encounters, drawing things out, maintaining some semblance of composure even in passion. But this, this was beyond her control. When she came it was with a force that left her shaking, crying out Erin's name in a way that would have left her mortified with anyone else or in any other context.

Erin moved back up her body while Alethea was still trembling, kissing her passionately, tongue playing against tongue. Alethea could taste herself, could feel Erin's need in the way she moved against her, and despite having just come, she wanted more. Wanted everything.

"My turn," she managed to say, trying to flip their positions, but Erin caught her wrists, pinning them above her head.

"Not yet," Erin said, and there was something in her eyes, a confidence, a command, that made Alethea's whole body flush with renewed arousal. "I'm not done with you so quickly."

No one had ever spoken to Alethea like that. In her professional life, she was the one in charge, the one who used her status in the fashion world to seduce others. Even in her personal encounters she maintained control. But pinned beneath Erin, feeling desperately, impossibly turned on again already, she realised that she didn't want control. Not right now.

"Please," she heard herself whisper, and Erin's eyes narrowed as she looked down at her.

What followed was the most intense hour of Alethea's life. Erin seemed determined to take her apart completely, using her mouth and fingers to bring Alethea to the edge over and over, only backing off when she was about to cum, until Alethea was actually begging... something that she'd never done before, never even imagined doing.

"Please," Alethea gasped for what felt like the hundredth time, her whole body trembling. Erin was between her legs again, had been for what felt like an eternity, her tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles that kept Alethea right on the precipice without letting her fall over. "Please, I need..."

"I know what you need," Erin said, pulling back just enough to speak, her breath warm against Alethea's hypersensitive skin. Her green eyes were filled with desire but also filled with a kind of calm certainty that made Alethea want her even more. "But I'm not done with you yet."

Alethea's hands clawed at the mat beneath her, her usual composure completely shattered. She'd lost count of how many times Erin had brought her to the edge. Her body was hypersensitive, every touch almost too much, and yet when Erin's mouth returned, she pressed her hips up into it desperately.

"Look at you," Erin murmured against her, the vibrations making Alethea whimper. "So beautiful like this. So desperate."

The teasing praise, delivered in that calm, controlled voice while Alethea was falling apart, made her feel exposed in a way that had nothing to do with her physical nakedness. In her professional life, she was always composed, always perfect. But here, shaking and pleading under Erin's methodical attention, she was just herself... raw and wanting and human.

Erin's fingers joined her tongue, sliding inside with a certainty that spoke of how well she'd been paying attention to Alethea's responses. The dual sensation was almost enough to push her over, and Alethea's hips bucked upward, seeking more pressure, more anything. But Erin's free hand pressed firmly on her hip, holding her in place.

"Stay still," Erin commanded softly, and something about the gentle authority in her voice made Alethea obey, even as every muscle in her body screamed for release. "Well done."

Those two words, delivered with such calm approval while Alethea was desperately fighting to stay still, nearly undid her completely. She felt tears in her eyes... not from pain or distress, but from the sheer intensity of being so thoroughly taken apart by someone who seemed to see so precisely what she wanted and needed.

"Erin," she gasped, her voice breaking on the name. "I can't... I need... please..." before she started babbling in her native Greek.

"You can," Erin assured her, her fingers curling in just the right way while her tongue maintained its maddening rhythm. "You're doing so well. Just a little longer."

Alethea had no idea how long a little longer was. Time had ceased to have meaning. There was only sensation, only Erin's touch and her voice and the building pressure that threatened to consume her. Her body was covered in a thin layer of sweat, muscles trembling with the effort of holding back, of staying still as Erin had commanded.

When Erin finally, finally increased the pressure, when her tongue moved faster and her fingers found that perfect spot inside, Alethea felt the orgasm approaching like a tidal wave. But even then Erin maintained control, keeping her movements steady and deliberate, making Alethea work for it, making her earn it.

"That's it," Erin encouraged, feeling Alethea's body start to tense. "You can cum now. Cum for me."

The permission, delivered in that same calm voice that had been directing her for the past hour, was all that Alethea needed. When she finally came, the orgasm hit with such force that she actually screamed, her back bowing off the mat, every muscle in her body going rigid. It seemed to go on forever, waves of pleasure so intense they bordered on painful, and through it all, Erin stayed with her, gently touching her through it with soft touches and whispered praise.

When Alethea finally collapsed back onto the mat, completely spent, she might have blacked out for a second... when awareness returned, Erin was holding her, stroking her hair, murmuring soft words against her temple. Alethea realized she was shaking, her whole body still trembling with aftershocks, and she buried her face in Erin's neck, overwhelmed by the intensity of what had just happened.

"Holy fuck," Alethea managed eventually, mixed with a few more choice words in Greek.

Erin laughed. "Yeah." She paused. "I mean I'm assuming the Greek was complementary..."

They lay there for a few minutes, Alethea trying to piece herself back together. Finally, she found enough coordination to push Erin onto her back, Erin gladly letting her this time, looking down at her with something approaching her usual confidence.

"Your turn," she said, and was gratified to see Erin smile in anticipation.

But even as Alethea began to kiss her way down Erin's body, even as she felt Erin's hands in her hair and heard her breathing quicken, she knew that something fundamental had shifted. This wasn't like her other encounters over recent years, usually with other models, usually controlled, not getting too involved or too messy. This was messy and real and terrifying in its intensity, but in the very best way possible.

When Erin came against her mouth a few minutes later, back arching beautifully, Alethea felt a surge of possessiveness that shocked her. She wanted to do this again. Not just the sex... though god, yes, the sex... but all of it. The conversation, the connection, the way Erin looked at her like she was more than just a beautiful body. Though also the way that Erin looked at her beautiful body too.

They eventually managed to clean up and dress, giggling throughout, though not without several more heated kisses that threatened to start everything all over again. As Alethea gathered her things, she felt uncharacteristically uncertain.

"So," she said, aiming for casual and missing by a mile.

"So," replied Erin, grinning. "I think you'd better find another personal trainer..."

"Yeah... I guess so."

"But can I make you dinner?" Erin suggested. "I mean, if you want. We could just..." She gestured vaguely. "See where this goes?"

Alethea looked at her... really looked at her. Erin was beautiful, yes, but in a different way than the people Alethea usually found herself with. There was something genuine about her, something that had nothing to do with the image-obsessed world Alethea inhabited.

"Yeah," she said, surprising herself with how much she meant it. "Dinner sounds good."

As they left the studio together, Alethea's body still buzzing from what had just happened, she realised that she had no idea what she was doing. This wasn't part of her carefully controlled love life, designed to avoid attachment and complication. This was something else entirely and it had come out of nowhere.

For the first time in years, that uncertainty didn't scare her. It thrilled her.