out at the private gym at the country club and having to deal with the constant battery of women who were looking to become our wives. The women there would put out, but they always expected it to go somewhere afterward.
“What do you usually start on?” I ask.
“The treadmill. I like to get my heart rate up right away before I move to free weights.”
I nod, hands on my hips. “Have at it. I’m going to start on the weights. There’s some towels over there if you need one.” I gesture to the opposite corner to the built-in filled with perfectly folded gym towels.
“Great.” She walks over to the closest treadmill while I make my way over to the free weights.
The blessing and the curse of the place is that this room is wrapped in mirrors from corner to corner. So not only am I able to watch Isla the whole time, I’m able to see how her tits bounce up and down after she’s done her brief warm-up and starts running.
I force myself not to watch but it’s like her chest is a blinking neon light in a bar window. I grunt as I lift a heavier weight than normal, needing to expend some of this restless energy building inside of me. After twenty minutes of punishing my body, I’m sweating. I hate the feel of my shirt clinging to my back while I lift, so I reach around behind my neck and tug my shirt off, tossing it to the side.
When my eyes search the mirror to find Isla, she’s already looking at me. She’s still running at a good pace, body and hair slicked with sweat while her sneakers pound against the treadmill. I hold her gaze for a minute.
My cock twitches in my pants, but I ignore it. I can’t push, and she’s probably not ready.
I’m concentrating so hard on the bicep curl I’m doing that I don’t hear the treadmill stop or notice her come up behind me. I’m not even sure how many times she calls my name before I spot her in the mirror and turn to face her.
“All done with your cardio?” I ask.
She nods, not saying anything, her gaze taking me in from head to toe.
“Everything okay?”
She nods again and bites the corner of her bottom lip. Then, like I’ve imagined her doing a thousand times, she drops to her knees in front of me.
I pitch the weight off to the side and it lands with a loud thud. “What are you doing?” My voice is hoarse.
“What does it look like?” She reaches for the waistband of my shorts, but I grip her wrists.
“Let me rephrase the question. Why are you doing this?”
I have to be the world’s biggest fucking moron to try and refuse to have my dick sucked by the woman I’ve wanted since high school.
“Garrin, you’re the first man who’s made me want to do this. Not to please someone I’m seeing, not because I should want it even if I don’t, but because I want it for myself, my own pleasure. Please don’t deny me this time.” Her voice is low and husky and it breaks down any resolve I have left.
I release her wrists and watch as she pulls down the elastic waistband of my shorts. My hard cock immediately springs free, almost hitting her in the face. She looks up at me with her big brown eyes full of need and shimmies my shorts down to my ankles.
My breath is trapped in my chest when she grips the base of my dick and leans in with her tongue out, licking the precum off the tip. All the air comes out in a rush when she moans as if she enjoys the taste of me. Then her plump lips wrap around the head of my cock while she uses her hand to jerk me off.
Without thought, my hands tangle in the long layers of her hair. How many times did I fuck my fist imagining this scene right here? Isla on her knees in front of me with my cock shoved down her throat. It’s even better than I could have imagined.
She moans when I grip her hair a little tighter when she shoves me all the way to the back of her throat. The sound is like a starter pistol at the beginning of a race. I thrust into her mouth and she takes me welcomingly and willingly. Even when I push in and hold