My usual gym was closed for renovations, and honestly, I was fucking bored with the same old treadmills and judgmental stares. This place, ‘Apex Fitness,’ was just a block from my office. Seemed like fate.
The door was heavier than it looked, opening into a lobby that smelled of disinfectant and something else, something musky. It was quiet, too quiet for a gym. The lights were low, casting long shadows across equipment that looked both familiar and… not. A woman stood behind the reception desk reading a porn comic! (what the fuck), And fuck, she was stunning. Tall, with corded muscle in her shoulders and arms, her tank top stretched tight across a powerful chest. Her smile was a blade.
“Welcome to Apex.” Her voice was a low hum that went straight through me. “I’m Charlot.”
“Loila,” I said, my own voice sounding too small. “I saw the flyer. For the trial?”
“Of course.” Her eyes did a slow, thorough scan of me, from my sensible sneakers to the ponytail I’d hastily tied back. Those eyes lingered on my hips, my mouth. “We have a very… specific clientele. But I think you’ll fit in just fine.”
I signed the electronic pad she slid over, not really reading the terms. My heart was beating a strange, excited rhythm. She came out from behind the desk, and I saw the rest of her. Those tight shorts did nothing to hide the thick, impressive bulge straining against the fabric. My brain stuttered, tried to process, and then just gave up. Oh. Oh, fuck.
“See something you like, Loila?” Charlot purred, stepping closer. The musk was stronger now, her scent. It was rich and animal, and it made my mouth water.
“I… this is a…”
“A place for women like me,” she finished for me, her hand coming to rest on my lower back. Her palm was hot, even through my shirt. “And for pretty little things like you who are curious. Let’s skip the tour. I can see you’re already warmed up.”
She guided me, her grip firm and leaving no room for argument, not that I had one. My body was humming, every nerve ending screaming yes. She led me past the weight racks into a private room lined with mats. The door clicked shut behind us, a sound of finality.
“On your knees, Loila.”
It wasn’t a question. My legs gave out, the command and the raw need in her voice turning my bones to liquid. I knelt on the soft mat, looking up at her. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her shorts and peeled them down, along with whatever was beneath. Her cock sprang free, thick and veined and beautiful, standing proud from a neat patch of dark hair. It was already leaking, a glistening bead at the tip.
“Open that pretty fucking mouth,” she growled.
I did. I parted my lips like my life depended on it. My tongue darted out, a tentative taste of her. The flavor was salty, right, deeply, and perfectly male. I moaned around nothing.
“That’s it. Now get that mouth all the way on me. I want to feel those lips wrapped around my fucking dick.”
I leaned forward, my hands braced on my thighs. I opened wider, taking the head of her cock into my mouth. It was warm, silken steel. I swirled my tongue around the crown, licking up the pre-cum, and her groan was the best sound I’d ever heard.
“Deeper, you greedy slut. Take it.”
I pushed my head forward, letting her length slide over my tongue. It hit the back of my throat and I gagged, tears springing to my eyes, but I didn’t pull back. I relaxed my jaw, letting her fill me. Her hands tangled in my ponytail, not rough, but possessive. She guided my pace for a moment, shallow thrusts that made me drool.
“You look so fucking good like this. A perfect little cocksucker. Now get ready. I’m going to fuck this pretty face.”
She took control, her hips pumping, driving her cock deeper into my throat. I relaxed into it, letting her use me, the sounds of her groans and my choked gags filling the room. Spit was dripping down my chin, onto my neck. I was soaked between my own legs, my leggings feeling far too tight.
“I want to feel that tight little cunt of yours,” she grunted, pulling her hips back and letting my mouth pop off her dick with a wet sound. “Get those fucking clothes off. Now.”
My fingers fumbled, shaking, as I pulled my top over my head, wrestled out of my sports bra, and shimmied my leggings and panties down my legs. I was naked, exposed, kneeling before her fully clothed. The air felt cool on my heated skin.
“On your back. Legs spread. Let me see what’s mine.”
I fell back onto the mats, spreading my thighs, putting my dripping pussy on full display for her. She knelt between my legs, her cock bobbing. She ran the head of it through my wet folds, coating herself in my arousal.
“So fucking wet for me already. You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to take my cock.”
She positioned herself, the broad head of her dick pressing against my entrance. I was panting, my whole world narrowing to that point of contact.
“Please,” I whimpered. It was all I could manage.
“Please, what, Loila? Use your words. Tell me what you want.”
“Please,” I gasped, “fuck me. I need it. I need your fucking cock inside me.”
She pushed in.
It was a stretch, a perfect, burning fullness that stole my breath. Fuck, she was big. She buried herself to the hilt in one smooth, relentless thrust, and my back arched off the mat, a broken cry tearing from my throat.
“Fuck, yes. You’re so fucking tight, Loila. Gripping my dick like a vice.”
She started to move, a slow, deep rhythm that had me seeing stars. Each withdrawal was agony, each thrust back in was ecstasy. The slap of her skin against mine, our ragged breathing, the wet sounds of our joining—it was a filthy symphony. She leaned over me, bracing herself on one arm, her other hand pinning my wrist above my head.
“You feel that? You feel how deep I am? This pussy belongs to me now.”
“Yes!” I cried out, my hips meeting her thrusts. “It’s yours! Fuck, don’t stop!”
Her grip on my hair tightened, a sharp, delicious pain that rooted me to the spot. With one powerful motion, she pulled me off my knees, my body unfolding like a discarded toy. Before my head could stop spinning, my back slammed into the cool, unyielding concrete wall of the private room. The air left my lungs in a sharp gasp.
Charlot’s body crashed into mine, pinning me, her muscular frame a cage of pure heat and strength. Her powerful thigh slid between my legs, pressing up against my soaked core, and a ragged, wanton moan was ripped from my throat. I could feel every ridge of her abs through my thin top, the incredible power in her shoulders as she boxed me in.
“Open your fucking mouth, Loila,” she commanded, her voice a low, hungry growl right against my lips. Her breath was hot. Her eyes were dark with a need that mirrored the fire exploding in my gut.
I obeyed without a second thought, my lips parting. This was what I’d wanted, what that boring, sterile life had never offered me. This raw, filthy, undeniable hunger.
She didn’t wait. Her hand, which had been fisted in my hair, guided her cock to my mouth. The broad, slick head pressed against my lips, a salty, musky taste already coating my tongue. Fuck, she was already leaking for me. I wanted to taste all of her.
“That’s it,” she purred, her voice vibrating through me as she pushed forward, filling my mouth, stretching my jaws. “Take it. Take all of me.”
I relaxed my throat, letting her slide deeper, the thick length of her hitting the back of my mouth. My eyes watered, but the feeling was incredible. The sheer dominance of it, the complete surrender. I moaned around her, the sound a muffled, greedy vibration that made her groan.
“Fuck, yes. Your mouth is so fucking warm. So good.”
While her cock slid in and out of my mouth in a steady, punishing rhythm, her other hand moved down my body. Her fingers, strong and calloused from lifting weights, roughly shoved my leggings and underwear down to my thighs. The cool air hit my wetness for a split second before her hand replaced it.
Two of her fingers pressed against my entrance, not sliding in, just applying that perfect, torturous pressure. I bucked my hips against her hand, a pleading sound caught in my throat around her cock.
“You want something, baby?” she taunted, slowing the thrusts into my mouth to let me speak. A string of saliva connected my lip to her shaft.
“Please, Charlot,” I begged, the words slurred and wet. “Please fuck me with your fingers. I need it.”
“Since you asked so nicely.”
Her fingers plunged into me without warning, a sudden, exquisite invasion that made my entire body jolt against the wall. Fuck. A deep, guttural cry was torn from me, perfectly timed as she shoved her cock back down my throat. I was full, completely and utterly full of her.
She established a ruthless rhythm. Her hips pistoned, fucking my face, the head of her cock nudging the entrance to my throat with every deep push. Simultaneously, her fingers crooked inside me, searching, stroking, until they found that perfect, aching spot.
“There,” she hissed, her voice thick with triumph as my body clenched around her fingers. “Right there, isn’t it? You’re fucking pulsating around me, Loila. Your cunt is sucking my fingers in.”
I could only manage a choked sob of agreement. Pleasure, sharp and electric, radiated from my core with every curl of her skilled fingers. The dual sensation was overwhelming. The stretch of my mouth, the taste of her pre-cum, the filthy, wet sounds of her hand working my pussy, the grunts tearing from her chest. It was a sensory overload that was driving me out of my mind.
She leaned in closer, her forehead touching mine, her eyes locking onto my tear-filled ones. “You look so pretty like this. My pretty little fucktoy. I take my cock like a champion while I finger-fuck this desperate little pussy. You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to be used.”
Her words sent another violent shudder through me. My hips were moving on their own now, meeting the thrust of her fingers, trying to take her deeper. I was so close. The coil in my belly was wound impossibly tight, humming, ready to snap.
“I can feel you getting tighter,” she groaned, her own rhythm starting to falter, becoming more frantic. “You gonna come for me? You gonna come all over my hand while you choke on my dick?”
I nodded frantically, my pleading muffled by her flesh.
“Then do it. Come for me, Loila. Now.”
It was an order I had no choice but to obey. The orgasm ripped through me, brutal and absolute. My vision whited out. My body seized, clenching around her fingers like a vise as wave after wave of pure, undiluted ecstasy crashed over me. I screamed around her cock, the vibration pulling a roar from her own throat.
She kept fucking me through it, her fingers milking every last spasm from me, her hips never stopping their relentless pace. My legs gave out, but she held me up effortlessly, pressed between her body and the wall, a shivering, boneless mess.
Slowly, she slid her fingers out of me, bringing them up to my lips, slick with my release. “Taste yourself,” she commanded, her voice rough.
I opened my mouth, and she pushed her fingers past her own cock, onto my tongue. The taste was musky, sweet, and entirely mine. I sucked them clean, my eyes never leaving hers.
She pulled her cock from my mouth with a wet pop, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. She was still rock hard, jutting out from her body, glistening with my saliva.
“That was a good start,” she panted, her chest heaving. “But we’re nowhere near done. I’m not even close to finished with you.” Her hand slid from the wall to my ass, giving it a sharp, stinging slap that made me yelp. “Turn around. Hands on the wall. I want to feel that ass bounce against me while I fuck you raw.”
