The Gym Athlete Who Made Me Lose My Mind

I’m going to confess something I haven’t told anyone, not even my best friend. I’m one of those women who always did the right thing. I studied, landed a good job at a marketing agency, and never stepped outside the script that was expected of me. Shy, tidy, predictable. Until I saw him at the gym, and discovered that I’d spent my whole life craving something I didn’t even dare to name: that a man would fuck me until I forgot my own name.

His name was Damián. I remember perfectly because it took me weeks to learn it and, all that time, he was simply “the guy by the weights in the back.” Tall, broad-shouldered, with a back that stood out beneath his T-shirt every time he lifted. He trained seriously, not like me, who went on the treadmill three times a week and watched the clock. He seemed to live there.

I started changing my schedule without admitting it to myself. Suddenly seven-thirty in the morning seemed like the perfect time to work out, just when he showed up with his water bottle and his headphones. I’d get on the elliptical facing the back mirror and watch him out of the corner of my eye. Watching him sweat, watching him focus, watching him lift as if the weight didn’t exist. I imagined that back on top of me, those hands squeezing my tits, that mouth biting my neck. I’d get home and shove two fingers into my pussy thinking about him, biting the pillow so I wouldn’t scream.

This is ridiculous, I thought afterward, panting. He doesn’t even know I exist.

But one random Tuesday, while I was trying to adjust a machine I didn’t understand, he came over.

—You’ve got the safety catch on backwards —he said, with a half-smile—. If you do it like that, you’ll hurt your back.

I felt my face burn right up to my ears. He showed me how to set it, corrected my posture with one hand barely resting on my waist, and I swear that touch, which lasted a second, left me breathless and soaking my panties. He smelled clean and warm at the same time.

—I’m Damián —he added.

—Lucía —I replied, and even my own voice sounded strange to me.

After that, hellos turned into brief conversations, and brief conversations into full workouts together. He taught me how to do squats without wrecking my knees—he stood behind me, his cock outlined in his shorts at the level of my ass, and I had to squeeze my thighs together not to melt right there and then. He told me about his sales job and the track competitions he took part in on weekends. I nodded at everything, fascinated, while my mind went somewhere much less innocent.

That same night I looked him up on social media. I found his profile right away, full of photos: at the beach, at the gym, at some race with his number pinned to his chest. I swiped across the screen again and again, feeling like an intruder, feeling alive. There was a photo of him just out of the water, with his swim trunks clinging to his body and a bulge between his legs that left little to the imagination. I slipped my hand inside my pajamas without thinking. I came in less than two minutes looking at that photo, biting my fist, imagining what it would be like to have that cock in my mouth.

I didn’t recognize myself. The usual Lucía would never have sent a message to a man like that. But the Lucía of that night, still sticky-fingered, wrote before I could change my mind.

—Hi, Damián. Are you free on Saturday? I feel like going to the beach and I thought maybe you’d want to come.

He took two minutes to reply. Two minutes that felt eternal.

—I’d love to. I’ll pick you up at four.

***

On Saturday I tried on three different bikinis before settling on a white one I’d never dared to wear, so small it barely covered my nipples. I put a sarong over it, sandals on, and looked at myself in the mirror wondering what the hell I was doing. When he arrived, with an open shirt over his chest and sunglasses on, I felt my stomach flip and my pussy throb.

The beach was almost empty. We walked along the shore, with warm water breaking over our ankles, talking about anything so as not to talk about the one thing that mattered. He told me he’d grown up far from the coast and the sea still felt like a miracle to him. I told him I hadn’t felt so calm and so nervous at the same time in years.

—Nervous about what? —he asked, stopping.

I didn’t answer. I looked at him, with the sun sliding down his face, and understood there was no point pretending anymore.

We went into the water. The waves were small and the sea was warm like a bathtub. At one point a bigger wave pushed me toward him and his hands caught my waist so I wouldn’t lose my balance. He didn’t let go. I didn’t pull away either. We stayed like that, pressed together, with the water up to our chests and his gaze locked on mine. I felt his hard cock against my stomach, even through the water, and a moan escaped me.

—If you keep looking at me like that, I’m not going to be able to control myself —he murmured.

—And who asked you to control yourself? —I answered, and I didn’t recognize myself in my own words.

He kissed me right there, in the middle of the water, one hand tangled in my wet hair and the other firm on my back. It was a slow kiss at first, testing, then it turned hungry. His fingers slid down to grab my ass under the bikini and I hooked my legs around his hips. He slipped his hand inside my bikini bottoms and ran two fingers over my dripping pussy.

—Fuck, Lucía —he whispered against my mouth—. You’re soaked, and not from the sea.

—Take me to your place —I begged—. Now.

***

His apartment was ten minutes away. I don’t remember the drive very well; I remember his hand under my dress, his fingers playing with my clit while he drove, and the charged silence, that silence where everything has already been decided and only the moment is missing.

As soon as he shut the door, he was on top of me. He shoved me against the hallway wall and kissed my neck, my collarbone, while he yanked my dress off over my head in one pull. I took off his shirt and finally got to touch that back I’d been eyeing in secret for weeks. It was all warm muscle under my fingers. I unbuttoned his pants, pulled them down along with his boxer briefs, and his cock sprang free, thick and hard, with a shining bead at the tip. I knelt down without thinking.

—Fuck —he gasped when I took it all into my mouth.

I sucked him slowly at first, tasting him, running my tongue all along the length, stopping at the head to lick it like it was candy. Then I swallowed him to the back of my throat, until I felt him hitting it, and he grabbed my hair and started moving my head to his rhythm. Saliva dripped down my chin, slid over my tits still trapped in the bikini top. When I felt him getting too hard, I pulled him out of my mouth with a pop and gently bit the tip.

—To the sofa —he growled, pulling my arm—. I need to eat that pussy right now.

He threw me onto the sofa, ripped off the bottom of my bikini, and spread my legs with a roughness that made me moan. He knelt between my thighs and buried his face in my pussy without any delicacy. He sucked my clit with his lips, shoved his tongue deep inside, then two fingers he curved until he found that spot that made my back arch off the sofa. He knew exactly what to do, when to press and when to ease off, when to let me nearly come and then stop and start again. I dug my fingers into his hair, pressed his face against me, lost all sense of where I was.

—Come in my mouth —he ordered, not pulling his fingers out—. I want to taste you.

And I came. I came screaming, squeezing my thighs around his head, soaking his chin while he kept licking through every tremor. When he finally lifted his face, his mouth was shining and he had a smile that made me want more.

—Please —I begged, not recognizing my own voice—. Put it in me already. I need your cock inside me.

He lifted me as if I weighed nothing and carried me to the bedroom. He tossed me onto the bed on my back and took a moment to look at me, naked and legs spread, with my pussy still throbbing. That look turned me on more than any touch. He positioned himself between my thighs, brushed his cock against my wet lips two, three times, to torture me.

—Tell me —he whispered—. Tell me what you want.

—Fuck me, Damián —I answered, looking him in the eyes—. Fuck me hard.

And he drove into me in one thrust, all the way in. I took him with a long moan that came from deep inside me. He filled me so much I felt split in two, and the pleasure was so brutal that my vision blurred for a second. He started moving with a perfect rhythm, pulling nearly all the way out and then driving back in to the hilt, while one hand squeezed a tit and the other was laced with mine against the pillow.

—You’re so tight —he panted into my ear—. You take me so damn well.

I filled the silence of the room with sounds I had never made with anyone. Random words, obscenities, pleas. I asked for harder, deeper, and he obeyed, pounding me so hard the bed hit the wall.

—Get on all fours —he ordered suddenly, pulling out of me.

I turned over without thinking, rested my face against the pillow, and lifted my ass for him. I felt his hands spreading my cheeks, and then his cock entering again, even deeper in that position. He grabbed my hair with one hand and fucked me, yanking my head back, drawing out moans I didn’t even know I had in me. With his other hand he found my clit and started rubbing it in time with his thrusts.

—Look at me —he asked, forcing me to turn my face toward the wardrobe mirror—. I want to see you when you come.

And I looked at myself. I saw myself there, on all fours, my tits swinging with the rhythm of his blows, my mouth open and my face flushed, with a stranger buried all the way inside me. We watched each other as pleasure rose like a tide, wave after wave, until I couldn’t hold it anymore. I fell apart beneath him, trembling, my pussy clenching around his cock in long spasms, screaming his name into the pillow.

—I’m going to come —he growled—. Where?

—Inside —I begged—. Come inside, I want to feel it.

He gave three more brutal thrusts and came with a rough groan, sinking to the hilt. I felt every pulse of his cock inside me, felt his hot semen flooding me, and came again just from that. He collapsed over my back, still inside, both of us drenched in sweat and out of breath. When he finally pulled out, a warm stream of his cum ran down my thigh, and I smiled like a crazy woman.

***

We spent the rest of the afternoon between the sheets, talking and laughing, starting again when we thought we couldn’t take any more. I rode him, made me bounce on top of him until my thighs shook, and this time he came on my tits, marking me as his. He told me things about his life that never showed up in any photo, and I confessed that I’d been changing my schedule for weeks just to watch him train and masturbating while thinking about him. He laughed out loud and bit one of my nipples.

—I changed mine for the same reason —he admitted—. I thought you’d never notice me. I’d been jerking off in the shower for weeks imagining that ass.

When the sun started to go down, we fell silent in front of the window, his arm around me, my head resting on his chest. I felt something I hadn’t felt in years: the certainty that I had just done exactly what I wanted, without anyone’s permission, without guilt.

That night, at home, I couldn’t sleep. Not because I was nervous, but because of the stupid smile I couldn’t get off my face and the delicious sting between my legs reminding me with every movement how well-fucked I was. The tidy, predictable Lucía had been left somewhere on that shore, and the woman who came home was someone else.

It’s been several months since then. We still see each other, and every time I walk into the gym and find him in the back, lifting like he did on the first day, I feel that same vertigo all over again. But I don’t pretend not to look at him anymore. Now I cross the whole gym, stop beside him, and hold his gaze until he smiles. Sometimes I take him to the disabled bathroom and he fucks me against the wall in ten minutes, one hand over my mouth so no one hears us.

I know I’ll be back in his bed tonight. And I know, above all, that I’m never going back.