The Late Set

The last treadmill hummed to a stop somewhere behind me, and the overhead lights clicked off one section at a time, leaving us in the amber glow of the emergency strips. My skin still tingled from the shower, hair damp against my neck, and I could smell Leo’s sweat mixing with the chlorine from the pool — sharp, clean, familiar.

He was leaning against the leg press machine, watching me with that look. The one he’d been giving me all week, ever since I’d whispered the idea into his ear at three in the morning.

“You sure about this?” he asked, voice low in the empty space.

I dropped my gym bag on the bench. “I’m sure.”

“Marcus is still in the back office. He said he’d lock up.”

My pulse kicked. “Then we don’t have long.”

Leo crossed the rubber floor in three strides, his hands finding my waist, pulling me into him. His mouth was hot on my neck, breath ragged. “God, Maya. The way you looked at him earlier... I thought I was gonna lose it right there.”

I bit my lip, arching into him. “That was the point.”

His fingers slipped under the edge of my leggings, tracing the waistband. “You want this? You want him to see?”

I didn’t answer with words. I turned my head and caught the silhouette moving behind the frosted glass of the office door. Marcus. The new trainer. Built like a tank, quiet, with eyes that lingered a second too long when he thought no one noticed.

Leo’s hand slid lower, cupping me through the damp fabric. “Fuck, you’re already wet.”

“Then do something about it.”

He spun me around and bent me over the padded bench of the leg press. The vinyl was cold against my stomach. His fingers hooked into my leggings and pulled them down to my knees, exposing me to the empty room, to the glass door, to whoever might be watching.

I heard him spit, felt his thumb press against my entrance, slick and warm.

“Keep your eyes on that door,” he whispered, his cock nudging against me. “I want you to know he could walk out any second.”

He pushed in, slow, deliberate, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. He filled me completely, stretching me, and I gripped the edge of the bench, knuckles white.

“Yes,” I gasped.

He started moving, a steady rhythm that shook the machine beneath me. Each thrust pushed a soft grunt out of me, and I pressed my palm over my mouth, trying to stay quiet. The rubber floor squeaked under his sneakers.

“You like that?” he breathed, leaning over my back. “You like being fucked here, where anyone could see?”

I nodded, head swimming.

His hand came down on my ass, a sharp crack that echoed off the walls. I gasped, clenching around him.

“Say it.”

“I love it,” I whispered. “I love being your hotwife.”

He groaned, picking up the pace. The bench creaked. My legs trembled. I could feel him everywhere — his chest against my back, his breath on my ear, his cock driving into me, relentless.

I watched the frosted glass. The silhouette moved, paused, then moved again.

“He knows,” I whimpered.

“I know,” Leo grunted. “I told him.”

I turned my head, eyes wide. “What?”

“I told him we’d be here. Told him to watch if he wanted.”

A hot flush ran through me, straight to my core. I pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts, desperate for more.

“Fuck, Leo... don’t stop.”

He didn’t. He drove into me harder, faster, his fingers digging into my hips. The sounds of our bodies filled the empty gym — wet, raw, obscene. I was close, so close, the pressure building low in my belly.

“Cum for me,” he growled. “Cum for him.”

I shattered, a choked cry breaking from my throat as my orgasm ripped through me, wave after wave. Leo kept fucking me through it, his rhythm faltering, his breath hitching.

“I’m gonna...”

“Inside,” I begged. “Cum inside me.”

He buried himself deep, shuddering, and I felt him release, hot and thick, filling me. He stayed there for a long moment, both of us panting, sweat dripping down my spine.

Slowly, he pulled out. I felt his cum trickle down my thigh.

He helped me stand, pulled my leggings up, and kissed the back of my neck. “You okay?”

I turned, wrapping my arms around him. “More than okay.”

Over his shoulder, I saw the office door open a crack. Marcus stood there, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

Leo followed my gaze, then grinned. “Told you he’d watch.”

I laughed, breathless, and grabbed my bag. “Next time, he joins.”

Leo’s eyes darkened. “Next time.”

We walked out into the cool night, hand in hand, the gym lights clicking off behind us.