He will certainly try

John’s pulse hammered as Jen’s teasing challenge lingered, her muscular frame towering over him, exuding raw power and desire. Her sculpted biceps twitched as she leaned closer, lips curling into a playful smirk. The stone’s warmth pulsed in his pocket, urging him to seize the moment.

Despite his leaner, athletic build—honed from workouts with Jen—he felt a flicker of his old awkwardness under her intense gaze. But her invitation to take the lead ignited something bold within him. He would rise to the challenge.

He stepped forward, closing the gap between them, his voice steady. “Alright, Jen, let’s see if I can match you.” His fingers grazed her forearm, tracing the hard curve of muscle with admiration and hunger. Her physique—broad shoulders, chiselled abs, thighs straining her leggings—dwarfed his, yet the stone’s influence and their shared history as husband and wife fuelled his confidence.

Jen’s smirk deepened, eyes glinting with approval. “Show me, John,” she purred, stepping back to the weight bench, her movements fluid and commanding. She sat, thighs spreading, tank top clinging to her powerful chest. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

John squared his shoulders, determination sparking in his eyes as anticipation crackled between them—Jen’s want was unmistakable, her energy drawing him in and urging him forward. He stepped between her legs, hands finding her shoulders, fingers pressing into her unyielding muscle.

“You’re unreal,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss her deeply, his breath catching as his lips met Jen’s, a slow press that sparked heat through his core. Her lips, warm and faintly spiced with mint and cinnamon, parted under his, firm yet yielding, urging him to deepen the kiss.

His hand found her jaw, thumb tracing the sharp line of her cheekbone, her skin taut over muscle that pulsed with strength. A low moan hummed from her throat, vibrating against his mouth, her breath quickening as she leaned into him, her massive frame softening just enough to follow his lead.

Confidence surged in his chest, the stone’s warmth in his pocket a quiet pulse matching his heartbeat.

John tilted Jen’s head slightly, guiding the kiss, savouring the way her lips chased his when he pulled back to murmur, “My turn,” against the shell of her ear.

Her wrists flexed under his grip as he eased them to the bench, her eyes flashing with surprise, then smouldering desire, her powerful body trembling beneath his touch, inviting him to take control.

Stepping back John began shedding his shirt to reveal his defined physique, sculpted from their shared gym sessions.

Jen’s gaze devoured him, lips parting. “My husband’s been working hard,” she said, voice low and husky.

Grinning, John knelt, tugging at her leggings’ waistband, slowly peeling the fabric down her thick, bronzed legs. The material resisted, stretched taut over her quads, but he freed it, revealing her toned sinew. Jen lifted her hips, eyes locked on his, breath quickening.

Standing, he guided her to lie back on the bench, her massive form making it seem fragile. Straddling her hips, his hands explored her—over her cobblestone abs, the curve of her pecs, the firm swell of her enhanced chest. “My goddess,” he whispered, kissing her neck, then her collarbone, lips grazing her trapezius.

Jen’s hands gripped his back, fingers digging in, but she let him set the pace, her body trembling. “John,” she gasped, voice thick with need. “Don’t tease me.”

John’s fingers fumbled briefly with the button of his jeans, his pulse racing as he freed himself, his arousal evident in the tight strain against the fabric. Jen’s towering form sprawled beneath him on the weight bench, her bronzed skin glistening under the gym’s harsh lights, each ripple of her chiselled muscles—biceps like carved marble, abs etched into sharp ridges—catching shadows that accentuated her Amazonian curves.

Her tank top clung to her enlarged chest, the fabric stretched taut, outlining the firm swell that heaved with each breath. Her eyes, dark and hungry, locked onto his, a silent dare pulsing between them, amplified by the stone’s subtle warmth in his pocket.

He positioned himself above her, knees pressing into the bench’s padding, his hands finding her hips, fingers digging into the unyielding muscle beneath her smooth skin. Her thighs, thick like tree trunks, parted slightly, the leggings still clinging to her calves where they’d been hastily tugged down.

The air was thick with the scent of her—sweat, a faint trace of her citrusy perfume, and something primal that set his nerves alight. He moved with purpose, guiding himself to her, the first contact drawing a sharp gasp from her lips, her head tilting back, exposing the strong column of her neck.

Jen’s hands gripped the bench’s edges, knuckles whitening as her powerful body arched, muscles flexing in a wave from her shoulders to her core. Her breath hitched, a low, throaty moan escaping as he set a steady rhythm, each thrust deliberate, claiming the lead she’d challenged him to take.

Her hips rose to meet him, her strength a controlled **** beneath his hands, yielding yet defiant, like a storm held at bay. The bench creaked under their combined weight, her massive frame making it seem frail, yet she moved with him.

Jen’s moans grew louder, raw and unrestrained, echoing off the weight room’s walls, drowning out the distant clank of metal plates. John’s fingers tightened on her hips, feeling the heat of her skin, the subtle flex of her obliques as she shifted beneath him.

He leaned forward, his lips grazing her collarbone, tasting the salt of her sweat, then trailing to the hollow of her throat where her pulse thundered. Her chest pressed against his, the firm swell of her breasts brushing his skin, sending a jolt through him that spurred his pace.

Jen’s hands released the bench, one finding his back, nails digging into his newly toned muscles, urging him deeper. Her other hand tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, her lips parted in a gasp that bordered on a growl.

“John,” she breathed, her voice husky, thick with need, her eyes half-lidded but burning with intensity. Her legs wrapped around him, calves like steel cables locking him in place.

The stone’s heat pulsed faintly, a silent partner in their excitement, but it was Jen’s presence—her towering, sculpted body, her unrestrained passion—that drove him.

His hands slid up her sides, thumbs brushing the edges of her abs, feeling them contract with each of her ragged breaths. He shifted his angle, drawing a sharper cry from her, her head tossing back, blonde locks spilling over the bench. The sight of her—muscles taut, skin flushed, lips swollen from their earlier kiss—pushed him to the edge, his own breath coming in short, **** bursts.

Their rhythm built, a crescendo of heat and motion, her moans blending with his low groans, the room a cocoon of their shared intensity. Her body trembled beneath him, muscles quivering as she arched higher, her nails raking his back, leaving faint trails of fire.

He felt her tighten around him and he pushed harder, chasing the climax they both craved.