After-Hours Sweat

The moment I locked the office door behind us, the air thickened with raw want. Mark’s eyes dragged down my body like he’d been starving for it all session, and my pulse hammered between my legs. This wasn’t the usual gym; we’d slipped into the empty corporate floor after closing because the weights here were heavier and the risk felt filthy.

“You sure nobody’s coming back?” I asked, voice already husky as I dropped my gym bag.

Mark stepped closer, sweat still glistening on his broad chest from our workout. His tank clung to every ridge of muscle. “Building’s dead after eight. Just you, me, and that tight little ass I’ve been watching bounce for weeks, Lisa.”

Heat flooded my cheeks and my pussy at the same time. I’d booked him as my personal trainer three months ago, telling myself it was only for results. But every correction of my form, every brush of his hands on my hips during squats, had left me soaked and aching.

I didn’t answer with words. Instead I grabbed the front of his tank and yanked him down into a kiss that tasted like salt and hunger. His tongue pushed into my mouth instantly, claiming, while his big hands palmed my ass through my leggings and squeezed hard enough to make me moan.

“Fuck, you’re already wet, aren’t you?” he growled against my lips, sliding one hand between my thighs and rubbing my soaked crotch. “Feel how your pussy’s dripping through the fabric. Been thinking about this cock all day?”

“Yes,” I gasped, grinding against his palm. “Every rep. Every time you touched me I wanted you to bend me over the bench.”

Mark spun me around and shoved me forward until my palms hit the cool surface of a wide conference table. He hooked his thumbs into my waistband and peeled my leggings and thong down in one rough yank, exposing my ass and dripping pussy to the empty office lights.

“Look at that pretty cunt,” he muttered, voice thick. One thick finger traced my slit from clit to hole, spreading my slickness. “Shaved smooth just like I imagined. You’re fucking glistening.”

I pushed back, desperate. “Stop teasing. Put that big dick in me already.”

He chuckled low, the sound vibrating through my spine. I heard the rustle of his shorts dropping, then the heavy, hot weight of his cock slapped against my ass cheek. God, it was thick. Veins pulsed along the shaft as he rubbed the fat head up and down my pussy lips, coating himself in my juices.

Without warning he thrust forward, burying half his length in one brutal stroke. The stretch burned so good I cried out, fingers scrabbling on the polished wood.

“Shit, you’re tight,” Mark groaned, gripping my hips hard. “Squeezing my cock like you never want to let go. Breathe, baby. Let me give you the rest.”

He pulled back an inch then slammed forward again, bottoming out until his heavy balls smacked my clit. The wet slap echoed in the silent office. My tits bounced inside my sports bra with every punishing thrust, nipples scraping the fabric until they ached.

“Harder,” I begged, arching my back. “Fuck me like you mean it, trainer. Make this pussy yours.”

Mark’s hand cracked across my ass in a sharp spank that made me yelp and clench around him. “That’s what you want? Filthy little client slut.” He picked up speed, hips snapping, the table creaking under us. Each deep stroke dragged his cockhead over that perfect spot inside me until my thighs shook.

I reached back and spread my cheeks wider, letting him watch every inch disappear into my greedy hole. The wet, obscene sounds of my pussy sucking his dick filled the room.

Suddenly he pulled out, leaving me empty and whining. Before I could protest he flipped me onto my back on the table, shoved my knees to my chest, and drove back inside in one smooth glide. The new angle let him hit even deeper. My clit throbbed untouched, swollen and begging.

“Look at me while I wreck you,” he ordered, eyes dark. One hand pinned my wrists above my head; the other reached between us to circle my clit with rough fingers.

I came almost instantly, pussy spasming hard around his pistoning cock, a gush of wetness soaking his balls and the table beneath me. “Oh god, Mark, I’m cumming—don’t stop, please—”

He didn’t. He fucked me straight through it, pace never faltering, until the overstimulation turned into another building peak. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto my tits. The smell of sex, clean sweat, and my own arousal hung thick in the air.

“Gonna fill this cunt,” he panted, thumb working my clit faster. “You want my load deep, don’t you? Say it.”

“Yes, cum inside me,” I moaned, legs trembling around his waist. “Breed my pussy, Mark. Give it to me.”

His rhythm turned erratic, hips stuttering. With a guttural groan he buried himself to the hilt and came, thick ropes of hot cum pulsing against my walls. The feeling pushed me over again; I clenched and squirted around him, juices spraying over his abs and dripping down my ass crack.

We stayed locked together, panting, his cock twitching with aftershocks inside my flooded pussy. Slowly he pulled out, a thick trail of his cum leaking from my stretched hole onto the table.

Mark leaned down, kissed me slow and deep, then grinned against my mouth.

“Same time tomorrow?” he asked, voice rough.

I laughed breathlessly, thighs still quivering. “Only if you promise to spot me… extra hard.”