Gym Changing Room

Budget gyms were all the same. Twenty-four-hour access, questionable equipment, and the persistent smell of ambition mixed with failure. But this one had Jade.

Jade was a personal trainer who looked like she ate dumbbells for breakfast. Not bulky—just solid. Toned in a way that made you want to touch every muscle. Cocoa skin, hair always in braids, sports bra and leggings that left nothing to imagination.

I'd been working out there for three months, stealing glances while she put clients through their paces. She caught me looking every single time.

Tonight was different. Eleven PM, gym nearly empty, just me finishing my chest day and Jade doing her own workout in the corner.

"Spotted you staring," she said, appearing beside the bench press as I racked my weights.

"Hard not to."

"Charming." She wasn't smiling exactly, but she wasn't not smiling. "Want a tip?"

"Always."

"Your form's shit. You're going to hurt yourself."

"Harsh but fair."

"Come here." She led me to the stretching area. "Let me show you proper technique."

Proper technique turned out to involve a lot of hands-on correction. Her hands on my arms, my chest, my hips as she adjusted my position.

"You're tight," she observed, pressing my shoulders down. "Need to stretch more."

"Don't have anyone to stretch with."

"I'm available." She moved behind me, hands on my lower back. "Professionally, I mean."

"And unprofessionally?"

She paused. The gym was silent except for the hum of air conditioning.

"Depends what you're asking."

"I'm asking if you want to grab a drink sometime."

"Drink's boring." She stepped back. "How about something more... active?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Changing room. Five minutes." She walked away, all rolling hips and confidence. "I'll show you some advanced techniques."

The changing room was empty—late enough that even the keenest gym-goers had gone home. Jade was waiting by the lockers, still in her workout gear.

"Lock the door," she said.

I did. When I turned back, she was right there, pressing me against the lockers.

"Rule one: what happens in the gym stays in the gym. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Rule two: I'm in charge. This is my workout, you follow my lead."

"Understood."

"Rule three." She kissed me—hard, demanding. "No half-reps. You go to failure."

"Yes ma'am."

She grinned—finally, properly. "Good boy."

Her sports bra came off in one motion, revealing tits that were small but perfect, dark nipples already hard. I reached for them, but she caught my wrists.

"Did I say you could touch?"

"No."

"Then don't." She pushed me down onto the bench. "Watch."

She stripped off her leggings, revealing black underwear that was already damp. She touched herself through the fabric, watching my reaction.

"You want this?"

"Yes."

"Earn it."

She climbed onto my face, straddling me on the bench. I grabbed her thighs—she let me this time—and buried my tongue in her.

"Fuck yes. Right there."

She was wet, fit, and riding my face like it was another exercise. I worked her with everything I had, tonguing patterns that made her gasp.

"Gonna—shit—don't stop—"

She came with a groan, grinding down, her thighs clenching around my head. Before I could catch my breath, she was moving down my body.

"Your turn."

She freed me from my gym shorts, took me in her mouth with zero warmup. Her technique was as efficient as her training—direct, focused, devastatingly effective.

"Jesus—Jade—"

"Shh. Sound carries."

She worked me to the edge, then pulled back, leaving me desperate.

"Condom. My bag."

I found it, rolled it on with shaking hands. She straddled me on the bench, sank down slowly.

"Fuck. Bigger than I expected."

"Complaints?"

"Just observations." She started to move, finding a rhythm that was all core strength and endurance. "Try to keep up."

I grabbed her hips, thrust up to meet her. The bench wasn't designed for this, but we made it work—her riding, me lifting, both of us breathing hard.

"Harder—come on—show me what you've got—"

I gave her harder. She rewarded me with sounds that echoed off the tile walls, moans and gasps that were the best workout motivation I'd ever had.

"Close—touch me—"

I found her clit, rubbed while she rode. She came with a shudder, her whole body tensing, her core clenching around me.

"Inside—do it—"

I came hard, pulling her down, feeling her milk every drop.

We stayed there for a moment, connected, both breathing like we'd just finished a marathon.

"Good form," she said eventually. "Needs work, but good."

"When's my next session?"

"Tomorrow. Same time." She climbed off, started gathering her clothes. "Don't be late."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

I started training with Jade every night. My form improved dramatically.

So did my cardio.