With No Need For His Name
In her never ending quest to cheat on her husband, Mary finds a new gym, but to her dismay it’s filled with weightlifting muscleheads. However, one cute guy on an elliptical catches her sexual imagination. His cardio routine is so intense, she realizes that he might have fierce stamina while in bed. Only, he’s much younger than her, and so she summons her inner cougar to get the sex she needs. More
In her never ending quest to cheat on her husband, Mary finds a new gym, but to her dismay it’s filled with weightlifting muscleheads. However, one cute guy on an elliptical catches her sexual imagination. His cardio routine is so intense, she realizes that he might have fierce stamina while in bed. Only, he’s much younger than her, and so she summons her inner cougar to get the anonymous and hard sex she needs.
WARNING: This 4000+ word short story contains graphic and explicit descriptions of consensual MILF sex with a younger man. It is meant only for mature and adult readers over the age of 18.
Real men don’t grunt loudly while working out. They don’t make a production out dramatically dropping their weights, and they certainly don’t stand around a weight rack, rub oil on themselves, and readjust their package for 15 minutes so the whole world can see. That’s just being jerk – especially while making outright sexual innuendo at female patrons. Unfortunately, my new gym was filled with these protein-shake-drinking morons. To that end, I wished I’d taken a visitor’s tour before paying a month’s dues. Then again, I wasn’t thinking straight. After all, I couldn’t go back to my old fitness center. It was too close to my home, and I had sex with three of its staff members all at once. It wasn’t like I was repentant about cheating on my husband, and it wasn’t like my midlife crisis had recently ended. It hadn’t. I just didn’t feel comfortable at my old gym anymore.
Now, I was paying the full price for that. I tried to lift some weights on the resistance machines, and about three guys in tight shorts and skimpy tank tops came up to me and said, “Hey, babe, want me to spot you on that?” Instead of making eye contact, they always made a big show out of gawking at my tits.
Each time I heard that, word for word, I just shot my best icy glare and snapped, “These aren’t free weights, you dumbass.” Then, I always got up, walked away, and would find a cardio machine. I stuffed buds into my ears, set my MP3 player to shuffle, and get into a long session watching the calories burned number on the machine slowly grow. Each time, I chose a treadmill centrally located. I wanted a good location where I could see the entire exercise floor reflected through the extensive wall mirrors. Although this new gym had its share of macho jerks, there were actually a number of hot guys. There was one cutie in particular that always drew my attention.
He had to be at least 15 to 20 years younger than me. Nicely coiffed brown hair complemented a cleanly shaven face and a strong jaw line. Not an ounce of flab marred this guy. His strong shoulders and arms were well toned without the pronounced veins and ripped contours of the idiot weightlifters. I loved to watch the guy, but something else about him intrigued me. The guy was always on the elliptical when I arrived, and he was there, keeping a very steady pace, when I left. He wasn’t going at a slow, low-intensity stride, either. Secretly, I wanted him to be my next conquest. I mean, big muscles do not impress me, but having a lot of stamina does. What’s the use of bulk muscle in bed, when the more important thing is how long a guy can physically last without crapping out?
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