Griffin’s gym membership has been collecting dust since January. That’s all going to change today—but it might be harder than he thinks to lift all that weight over his head. But then he runs into the stunning Helena, a personal trainer who’s hungry for clients like him, and she might help him find all the motivation he needs.
Helena is going to grind him under her heel in front of the whole gym, and he might just get a special surprise in the showers if he performs to her liking. Is Griffin always going to be the laughingstock of the gym? Or will he be able to handle Helena’s demanding regimen?
This 6100 word, futa-on-male, public, MILF, feminine man, older woman younger man, humiliation, foot fetish, first time, workplace erotica is for mature readers only. It also comes with a free excerpt from another sexy tale!
She lifts the bar up and back onto the rack without breaking a sweat.
I realize that I’m gasping for air.
“Jeez,” I sputter out like a car on its last legs, “thank you. I was getting really worried for a second there.”
My gratitude lands on deaf ears.
“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demands in a voice that’s loud enough to attract the attention of the group of guys at the free weights rack.
“I… I was just trying to uh, bench.” I can’t even look her in the eye, but it doesn’t matter.
“You really could have hurt yourself,” she continues. “Do you know what could have happened if no one was here to cover your fuck-up?”
I try to find an answer, but my ears are filled with the sneers of the guys watching us. I know my face is turning a deep scarlet, but I can’t do anything to stop it.
There was a bowl of Halloween candy on the counter in my apartment, and it was begging me not to go. Maybe I should have listened.
“I’m really sorry,” I say, my voice barely making it to her ears. “I guess I underestimated how heavy it would be. The videos made it look so easy. It’s my, uh, first time here. I didn’t wanna bother anyone by asking for help.”
She doesn’t say anything for a minute. I glance at the free weights guys but they have already lost interest in me at this point. When I look up at her, she’s shaking her head. As embarrassed as I feel, I can’t help but feel very attracted to this woman. And it’s not because she’s pretty. Even though she is. It’s her figure. She’s built like someone who could climb a mountain and still have the energy for a sex romp–why did I get that image?–at the top. Is it possible to be muscular and curvy at the same time? Like a soccer mom who never lost her figure. If I have to listen to anyone today, it would be her.
“You’re kind of pathetic, aren’t you?” she asks.
She doesn’t wait for me to answer. Which is good, because I don’t know if I agreed.
“You don’t look like you’d know a chin-up from a pull-up.” She offers her hand. “Helena. I’m a personal trainer here. And by the looks of things, you could use someone like me.”
I shake her hand and laugh the little laugh that I can muster.
“Griffin. And yeah, I guess so.”
Helena pulls me up from the handshake. She looks me up and down. I feel more self-conscious than I did walking into this place, but I can’t read her face. I wonder if it’s all just pity for me.
“I’d do more than guess if I were you. Today’s your lucky day, though. Every gym member gets one free session, and we’re all competent so I know you’ve never had your freebie.”
I hesitate to find the words. It’s bad enough that she had to save me from an inanimate bar of metal, but I’m hopeless around women I find attractive.
“Thanks,” I say, “but it’s okay. I mean, I don’t want to be a hassle, and I was hoping I’d figure it out myself, and uh, maybe I’ll just hop on the treadmill.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re not going to put on any muscle flopping around on the treadmill.”
“I know, but…”
“Do you? Look, it’s obvious you don’t know what you’re doing,” she says, “but you just collapsed under 85 pounds of weight. Why don’t you be a man and give me a try? What do you have to lose, anyway?”
I sigh. She’s right.
“Okay.” I tense up what little muscle I have. “I guess it won’t hurt.”
“It hurts, very much.”
My arms shake as I struggle to do push-ups, something I haven’t had to force myself through since I was in grade school P.E. class. I’m in the limbo between straight arms and bent arms and my body won’t let me go either way. I can’t do it. All the air in my lungs is pushed out of me as I crash down to the floor again.
“If you spent more time focusing on your breathing than complaining, maybe you wouldn’t fall down so much.”
Helena rolls me over with her sneaker and plants her foot on my chest. Where her yoga pants end and her socks begin, there is the slightest hint of her ankle peeking out into the world. It’s a slender thing, and I find myself wondering what the rest of her foot looks like.
It’s not really something I like to think about, how I have a thing for feet, but right now I’m taking any escape I can get from floundering on an old mat on the gym floor.
“Hey, eyes up here, Griffin.”
I blink up at her in surprise.
“What’s wrong, why are you being all weird?”
She prods me with her shoe again, and I just shake my head, sneaking another glance at her ankle.
“N-nothing. I’m all good. I can try again.”
She narrows her eyes. She slides her sneaker down the front of my shirt. I can feel the ball of her foot pressing down on me. She reaches my bellybutton but she doesn’t stop. I realize that Helena isn’t looking at my face anymore. She’s looking at my shorts.
I do my damnedest to fight against my body, but I don’t think I can stop what’s coming.
“Um, I think I’m ready to try again,” I stammer.
Her sneaker pauses on my hip. If she brought her heel down flat, she would be standing on the body part I’m trying to keep from reacting.
And just like the bench press and the push-ups, I fail.
My cock twitches in my shorts.
I get ready to apologize, but she quickly steps off of me and turns me over again.
“Get into starting position again,” she says. “This time, we’re going to try something different.”
I plant my hands on either side of my body and push up to my newest, most-hated enemy: the plank.
“Stop letting your torso dip down. You look like a reverse camel. Engage your core like you mean it, Griffin.”
Okay, so after raising my back, now I’m in a plank position.
Already, my abs are fighting to be let go from this prison.
But then Helena stands just in front of my head. I’m looking down at her sneakers, clean and white yet decorated with lines of neon color.
“This time, every time you go down, I want you to get as close as you can to my shoes.” She bends down–damn, she’s flexible–and adds, “Close enough that you can kiss them.”
“Don’t look up, you’re going to ruin your form. You heard me correctly. I never misspeak. Now be a good boy and do what you’re told, because I can always start yelling at you.”
I can only hesitate for so long before my arms completely give.
I bend down at the elbows, keeping my eye on the–prize?–goal.
“Keep your elbows tucked in,” Helena says above me. “We’re trying to work on your chest, not rip apart your elbow joints. Come on, how did you reach this age without someone teaching you how to do it right?”
I don’t have a comeback for her because I’m too busy straining. On one hand, I can’t believe how weak my arms are. On the other hand, she just asked me to kiss her shoes. Maybe that’s what I deserve for being so weak.
I close my eyes as my arms start to shake again, going lower, lower, until my mouth connects with something dry and fuzzy.
I open my eyes. Her laces. Holy shit. I give her sneakers another kiss and grunt in effort as I push myself up.
“Holy shit,” I say in disbelief. “I actually did it.”
“You did one, Griffin. No cause to throw a party just yet. Give me seven more.”
My knees drop onto the mat, and my shoulders droop.
I say, “I don’t think I can do that many.”
When I look up at her again, she’s started to take off her shoes. My eyes widen. She takes off her sneakers and her socks, and I find myself staring at her bare, wrinkled soles. She stands in front of me again.
“There. Is this going to push you to try harder?” she asks.
Her toes are painted an electric blue, like a line of candies waiting to be eaten.
Without words, I get back into plank and do my first push-up.
I almost don’t feel the struggle as I get my first taste of her toes. I breathe in deep, and I am awarded with a sweet and spicy smell of Helena’s sweat.
I push, with a renewed vigor in my arms.
“One,” she says, with a tone of impatience.
I’m trying, Helena. I’m trying really hard.
Number two. Another kiss of her pretty feet.
Three. I want to lick her, but she didn’t tell me I could do that.
“What’s wrong? Go all the way down. Full range of motion, Griffin.”
I hear laughing again, coming from behind me a ways. I think it’s the same group of guys, but I can’t be too sure because when I look under me in between my legs, I can only see the little tent I’m pitching in my shorts.
“What do you mean you can’t? You’ve done three already, you were doing so well. Are you just going to let them laugh at you like this? Do you like being made fun of?”
“No, it’s not that. I…”
I am finding it exceedingly difficult to say, ‘I’ve got a hard-on.’
It turns out I don’t need to.
Helena kicks me over again, and suddenly I’m on my back with my flagpole displayed for all to see. I hear them burst into laughter, and it would be enough to make all of me shrink down into nothing, but Helena steps on me.
No, not me. My cock. She lays my hard-on down flat on my belly with her foot. My tip is pinched between her first two toes. My entire length is under her sole. If there wasn’t a layer of clothing separating the two of us, I don’t know if I’d be able to take it.
Liked it so far? Read the rest of the story here (for FREE with Kindle Unlimited)!