Workout

She went to the gym with a lie. She told herself she was going to exhaust her body, to push it past its limits until the screaming, incessant desires in her mind had no energy left to fuel themselves. It was a desperate, pathetic plan, and it failed before she even finished her warm-up.

She was doing lateral raises, the burn in her shoulders a welcome distraction, when she felt him. Ramon. He came up behind her, his hands "correcting" her form, but his touch was anything but professional. His fingers stroked down her spine, a slow, possessive caress that was completely unnecessary. I should stop him, a distant voice in her mind whispered. I should tell him to get his hands off me. But she didn't. She stood there, her arms frozen in mid-air, letting his touch ignite a fire that burned away the last of her resolve.

The next thing she knew, she was on her knees on the weight bench. His shorts were pulled down around his thighs, and his cock was in her mouth. She wasn't just taking it; she was devouring him, her tongue tracing the thick veins, her lips sliding down his shaft, taking him deep until he hit the back of her throat. She wasn't thinking about Seth, or her vows, or her children. She was thinking about how much she wanted this. How much she needed this.

Then her top was off, and she was on her hands and knees on the bench, the cool leather a shock against her heated skin. Ramon was behind her, and his mouth was on her. He wasn't just licking; he was feasting. He ate her pussy like he was starving, his tongue a hot, relentless force that drove her wild. A guttural moan tore from her throat as her first orgasm crashed through her, a sharp, violent wave that left her trembling and gasping for air.

Before she could recover, he was standing, pulling her up with him. He spun her around, his chest to her back. He tore her gym shorts down the middle, the fabric giving way with a loud rip. He hooked his arms under her knees, lifting her right leg into the air. She threw her head back against his shoulder, her right arm hooking around his neck for support. He plunged his cock into her, hard and deep. "Oh, God, yes!" she cried out, every thought obliterated by the sheer, overwhelming pleasure. He pistoned into her, his body a perfect machine, and she felt a second, even more powerful orgasm building. It broke over her, and she screamed, a raw, primal sound of pure ecstasy.

He turned her in his arms, lifting her completely. One arm hooked under each of his legs, his hands holding her up by her ass as he pistoned in and out of her like a jackhammer. She locked her hands behind his head, holding herself upright, surrendering completely to the brutal rhythm. It was a third orgasm, a blinding, white-hot explosion that made her vision go white and her body go limp in his arms.

He sat down on the bench and laid back so she was straddling him, but he was still in control. He gripped her hips, thrusting up into her with a punishing force while his other hand fondled her breasts, his fingers pinching her nipples. She looked down at him, at the raw, masculine power in his face as he used her body for his own pleasure, and she felt another orgasm, a fourth, building. "Don't cum inside me," she gasped, a last flicker of sanity. With a final, powerful thrust, he pulled out, his hot cum striping across her ass and lower back.

They lay there for a moment, the only sound their ragged breathing. Aaliyah stared up at the ceiling of the gym, her body thrumming with the aftershocks of four incredible orgasms. Again. The pleasure was a physical memory, a brand on her soul. And as the haze began to clear, a single, chilling thought surfaced from the wreckage of her conscience. What's wrong with me?