If you think Kristen was a one off then you’d be wrong. What happened that day merely served to open my eyes to the possibility of how many girls would want to do the same thing. The answer was, a lot. Over the next few months I fucked a lot of girls. It got so bad in fact that I actually lost count. I know it was somewhere between thirty and forty, but that’s about as close as I can get. I did all kinds of girls – tall, short, blonde, dark, slim, curvy – it seemed that the more girls I slept with, the hungrier and hungrier I got for sex. I think it was the danger; the risk of being caught fucking during work was intoxicating. How I didn’t get caught, God only knows. Maybe people knew what was going on but nobody said anything. If Sam knew, she’d didn’t let on when she made me a surprising offer.
I’d gotten into work as normal one morning to find her in her usual spot behind the front desk. Instead of the usual happy, smiling face though, I found myself looking at a teary-eyed girl dabbing a tissue to her cheeks.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked, genuinely concerned. She shook her head, seemingly to upset to talk.
“Come on, you can tell me,” I said, leaning across the counter, bringing myself close to her.
“Me and Ben have finished,” she whispered, and then sobbed. Ben was her boyfriend. I knew things hadn’t been right, because I’d caught her couple of times on her mobile quietly arguing with him. I hadn’t realised things had gotten that bad though. I actually felt really sorry for her, because I liked Sam, and I didn’t like seeing her upset. I had to get to my shift, but I agreed to meet her after work for a coffee so we could talk things over.
I got offered a session that day, from a really hot Dutch girl, but for the first time in my sexual campaign I spurned the opportunity. I remember she’d seemed really affronted by that, which in retrospect wasn’t surprising given my burgeoning reputation. But I had promised Sam my time, and I made sure I gave it to her.
We met up at Starbucks that afternoon, and she poured her heart out to me over a couple of lattes. It turned out that Ben, far from being an ideal boyfriend, had been seeing a lot of girls behind Sam’s back. Now, I know I’m not one to talk, but I’ve never cheated on a girl. Yes, I’ve fucked a lot of girls, but not when I’ve been seeing anyone.
Anyway, Sam had a place she shared with Ben. She’d thrown him out, understandably, and needed someone to move in there quickly to cover the rent. I was still at home and was looking to move out. It was seemed like too good an opportunity to pass over, and she’d fairly leapt at the idea when I suggested I move in.
You can see where this was heading, right?
By the end of that week, me and Sam were housemates. We invited everyone down from the gym on the Saturday and we had a big housewarming party. It was a great night, and Sam looked great, in spite of the fact that Ben had been round trying to patch things up that afternoon. She’d none of it and there had been a massive row that I’d stayed well out of. She’d been in tears when she’d sent him off, but by the time the first people arrived she’d recovered, and showed none of her fragility throughout the evening, in spite of knocking back plenty of drinks. At the end of the night, she gave me an appreciative peck on the cheek, and a big hug. I asked what it was for, and she said for being a mate, but it was obvious it meant more than that. Ben could see it too, and I’d heard him accusing her of having something going on with me when they’d been arguing. I knew it was bollocks, and yet part of me knew he was right; it just hadn’t happened yet.
It played out slowly and for a couple of weeks nothing happened. Sam was still tender from the break up, and I was getting plenty of action with different girls at work. I think Sam knew about that, but she didn’t ask. Actually, I think everyone must have known. It was getting ridiculous. I was fucking three or four different girls a week and not just at the gym. I was getting invites to their places and only spent a couple of nights a week in my own bed. I made a rule never to bring them back to my place though. I needed a refuge. Most of these girls were one-nighters; a couple got it more than once, but they were the exception rather than the rule.
Whatever Sam thought about my exploits, it didn’t seem to put her off. I’m not saying she went out of her way to do anything, but we seemed to have encounters at the most awkward moments. You know what, I take that back. I will say Sam went out of her way to have encounters. In fact, she started getting ridiculously unsubtle about it.
For example, one morning, on one of my days off, Sam decided to bring me breakfast in bed. She didn’t tell me she was going to do it and she didn’t knock on my bedroom door either. She just came into the room with a bacon sandwich and a glass of orange juice. I didn’t know she was going to do that otherwise I wouldn’t have been lying on my bed jerking off at the time, but I was and she saw the lot. I reckon she heard me and came in deliberately. I wouldn’t have minded that much, I mean I’m not exactly shy. I probably would have let her watch if she’d asked but instead my bacon sandwich ended up on the floor and she’d run out screaming with laughter, so it ended badly for me in every respect.
I suspected her appearance wasn’t an accident and I got my proof the very next morning, when I was in the bathroom. I’d just gotten out of the shower and was towelling myself down when the door opened and there was Sam in her dressing gown. I stood there unfazed, drying my hair. I was stark naked, giving her the full frontal, and she saw everything – again.
“Oh God, sorry,” she gasped, but she made no effort to look away or shut the door.
“You’re about as subtle as the Nazi party, you know that?” I told her dryly as I towelled my hair. I took a few seconds doing it, and when I stopped she was still there, blatantly staring at my cock. I took the towel and rubbed it round my groin, making sure she got a full view. Sam bit her lip as she continued to stare. I decided we had been waiting long enough.
“Come here,” I told her. She didn’t need asking twice. I told her to kiss me, and she did. I told her to rub my cock, and she did that too.
Between kisses I told her, “I’m going to fuck you, Sam.”
“Yes, please,” she whispered feeling my rapidly hardening cock under her caress.
“I’m gonna sink my cock right into your slippery pussy,” I whispered. I could feel her trembling as I said it to her. Sam liked dirty talk it seemed.
“I’ve wanted this for ages,” she told me unnecessarily as she caressed my chest as I untied her dressing gown and pushed my hands inside it, caressing her belly. I watched as she ran her tongue over my chest.
“Let’s go to your bed,” I told her. She didn’t need me to say it twice. Her dressing gown was discarded on the landing and we were both naked when we fell on her bed.
We were all over each other, kissing, sucking, rubbing, you name it. We ended up sixty-nining. I had to really control myself and not fuck her mouth but she wasn’t put off by my size at all. You might be surprised but there’d been a few girls at the gym who had upped and run when my cock had entered the arena. Every guy wants a big cock but mine was too big. Trust me, there’s such a thing but Sam did a good job sucking it, I can tell you.
Before I lost control and came in her mouth, I pushed her over and I fucked her on her bed. She was the noisiest girl I’ve ever been with, even louder than Jenny. She panted loudly with each of my deep strokes into her and that made me groan with pleasure too as I thrust in and out of her.
The sex with Sam was that hard and naturally passionate that it reminded me of being back with Jenny. It was the first time any girl had done that since I’d left her. She was also the first girl I came inside after Jenny, which was stupid because we weren’t using protection. In all my conquests, I tried to be careful. I hadn’t used a condom with Kristen but after that I had always made sure I was equipped. I hated the things but I didn’t want AIDS. Or a baby. I’m not sure which would be worse. But that moment with Sam was completely reckless when I came uncontrollably inside her.
Of course, in the cold light of day, it had just been a fantastic fuck. I think it’s fair to say it was the best I’d had since Jenny. We just gelled. We shared her bed that night and I fucked her twice more before the morning.
Being friends and flat mates, this made things a bit awkward between us. I was really fond of her, but not in love with her by any means. For her I think it was just a kind of infatuation. After a bit of drama, we agreed to be fuck buddies and we ended up having a lot of sex and I mean a lot, but there was never any emotion to it. It was just sex. But fucking good sex.
Having Sam as a fuck buddy really curbed my conquests at work. Instead of trying to fuck every girl that walked through the door, I was now only having the occasional tryst, and usually nowhere near the gym.
I could see in retrospect that I’d been incredibly lucky not to get caught out. The buzz of trying to sleep with different girls without letting them know about each other, and doing it in places where sooner or later we were going to get caught was all getting a bit much. In that sense, Sam was a bit of a godsend. She gave me the release I needed without it becoming suicidal. It was a good job too, because right around that time was when things started to develop for me at work.
One Monday morning, I arrived at the gym ready for my shift. I thought I was doing okay, despite all the indiscretions I’d had, and now I had put that behaviour to one side, I was feeling pretty settled. You can imagine then how I felt when I saw the gym manager Martin waiting at the front desk when I walked in that morning.
Honestly, I thought I’d been caught out. My heart stopped when I saw him stood there. Of course, the irony of being fired after I’d stopped fucking every hot girl in sight wasn’t lost on me, but it didn’t make me feel a whole lot better when he spoke to me.
“Scott, have you got a moment?” he said, walking over to me.
“Um, yeah, sure,” I said, trying not to sound like I had been caught. How has he found out? I remember thinking. Shit, I needed the job. It was too good to give up. My head was full of those sort of thoughts at that moment.
“We’ll just pop into my office,” he said, and led me there. I hated that walk. It felt like I was walking the green mile. I was certain I was going to be sacked, and when Mike sat down opposite me, grim faced, I knew it wasn’t going to be good. But all of a sudden, his demeanour had changed. He smiled, and spoke in a way that put me at ease.
“You’ve done well here, Scott,” he said. “A lot of people don’t hack working in a gym. They think it’s going to be a toss off, but you’ve found it’s not.” I nodded in agreement, but I had no idea what he was talking about. I was just coming to work and sitting around, then making use of the free equipment and fucking a lot of girls. I didn’t say anything though, and let him continue.
“We’ve had a lot of good feedback on your attitude and your manner,” Mike said, “and I was wondering if you would be interested in coming over to work in the gym.” I frowned.
“What do you mean?” I asked. Sometimes I needed things spelling out to me in words of one syllable.
“I’m short of an instructor,” Mike said, “and I don’t want to advertise for a trainee when I’ve got a perfectly good applicant sat in front of me – if you’re interested, of course.”
“Well, yeah, of course I am,” I replied, trying to sound casual, but inside I was churning. Not only was I drowning in relief from not being sacked, but now I was being offered an even better job than the one I was in. I wouldn’t have to just sit around; I would be out working with the other guys in the gym and having a laugh and meeting girls… I mean, where was the catch?
Mike could obviously see my interest, as he grinned at me.
“You look like you’re keen on the idea,” he said.
“Damn right,” I said.
“Good,” he replied. “You can start tomorrow.”
It was easy to slip into. I found the atmosphere, the language, and the whole ethos so attractive that I felt like I’d been doing it forever. I enjoyed the banter and actually found I was okay at instructing and advising people – after all, I’d been working out myself for a good few years, and a lot of the people I saw were already friends and acquaintances. But even with the new people, I found myself able to help them, and I really started to enjoy myself. It was the only time after breaking up with Jen that I felt really happy.
Of course, it wasn’t all work. I was still living with Sam, and getting plenty of sex there, but I was still having other encounters. Only a few stick in my mind now.
There was Claire, a Scottish model from Edinburgh. She was stunning, but really vain, although to be fair she had every right to be. I think the sex we had at her flat was a trophy conquest for both of us, nothing more.
Then there was Rebecca. She was another Aussie, and it turned out she was a friend of Kristen’s, the first girl I’d fucked at the gym. She came looking for more of the same, and she’d got it, but in the Jacuzzi at midnight, not in the shower. She was a promo girl too, with an equally amazing body, but instead of a quickie we had a long, long fuck in the hot tub, one of the best I had at the gym.
Sam knew about them, of course. I told her. She actually got off on hearing about it. I’d tell her what I’d been doing, just like I am now and she would get so turned on by it that we would end up fucking while I was telling her. She always wanted to prove that whatever I was getting, she could give me better. I really couldn’t say no to an offer like that.
I could have gone on and on like that, it was so easy. And the scary thing was it got easier every time. Whatever vestiges of guilt I’d had at the outset had evaporated so readily each time I laid my eyes on the next gorgeous girl who gave me a wicked smile. After a while I realised that word was getting around, and some of these girls were coming to the gym purely to see me. You can imagine how bigheaded that made me feel when I cottoned on to that. I was king of the world, a fuck god.
Mike and Ian must have known, there was no way they couldn’t, but they never said anything. I suppose they were just letting the extra business come in and then as soon as anything stuck to me I could be dropped like a hot potato. I wasn’t completely naïve. But I knew it wasn’t going to last forever either. But the thing was it didn’t seem to be going downhill. It just seemed to be getting better and better.
For instance, because I was getting along well at my job, Mike decided to start to introduce me to a wider selection of the clients, not just the people I was already working with and the odd newcomer. This was a little bit daunting, because now I was dealing with a different class of people. Suddenly I was working with some people with real money, not just lads who put all their earnings into keeping in shape.
These guys were the businessmen; the bankers with a lot of cash. They would roll up in their brand new Mercs and Beamers and you knew that that was just the tip of the iceberg. All their gear was designer label, and some of them had been known to give their trainers four figure sums as bonuses. This was a different league to what I was used to, and it took a bit of adjusting to.
The first few guys were really aloof with me, really distant. They’d look down on you like you were a piece of shit on their shoe, and I didn’t like that. I wasn’t used to it. More than once, I had to bite my tongue, and stop them from hurting themselves by benching more than they could. God, that was tempting with a few of them.
Steve Johnson was the exception. Maybe it was because he was a Yank, or maybe he was just a decent bloke, but his attitude was totally different to all those other wankers. He was obviously loaded, but he never rubbed it in your face like the others did. He didn’t make you feel about an inch high. He reminded me of those old fashioned American smoothies, sort of like George Hamilton without the wrinkles. It turned out he was an ex-dentist, which made sense really because he had one of those perfect Hollywood smiles; I’m surprised moths didn’t fly into his face when he grinned at night.
Anyway, me and Steve hit it off right away. We would have a bit of a laugh and banter when he came into the gym and for an older guy he was in pretty good shape. He told me once he’d been in the marines when he was younger and was doing his dentistry degree, and I believed him. For all his warmth and charisma, there was something else behind those grey eyes. You had the feeling he was like a caged tiger eyeing you up, saving his energy until you let your guard down and then he’d pounce. In retrospect, that’s a pretty good analogy, but at the time he seemed great to me. He helped build my experience and confidence as a trainer to new levels, and my new found friendship with him began to change my life.
It began a few weeks after he started to train with me. After a session one morning, he told me that he ran games nights up at his house. I didn’t really know what that meant so I asked him. What it turned out to be was that on every first Saturday of the month he basically turned his house into a mini casino, with roulette, blackjack, poker and the rest – sort of like what you would see at a good wedding, except this wasn’t played for toy money. The minimum entry fee was fifteen thousand pounds. I remember he laughed for about five minutes when he told me that.
“You should see your face,” he kept saying. Then he asked me if I’d like to go up there one evening. Like a moron I said I would love to but that I couldn’t afford it. That time I thought he was going to wet himself.
“No, no,” he said when he’d stopped laughing enough to be able to breathe properly and talk. “What I need is a bit of eye candy to work as croupiers and waiters, to help bring a bit of sparkle to the night. I’ve got a few girls lined up but in the interest of keeping things sweet for the ladies there, I want a couple of young guys and I think it would be right up your street.”
Now looking back with the benefit of hindsight, I would think this is a trap. But remember at that time, everything was going great for me, and as far as I was concerned this was just another case of lady luck dealing me a fantastic hand (keeping with the gambling motif there, you see?).
So I said yes.
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