Getting Personal - Part Deux

Two weeks had gone by from the first time he offered me his services. My budget angel had won the competition over the devil: I am still personal-trainer-less as of today. Yet, the devil appeared to have his own way of seducing the mere-human in me. There I saw Yutaka again, on the incline bench-press, laying his sexy lumberjack physique. Legs spread wide with his arms gripping the bar ready to push. And then he smiled at me. The same warm smile that he gave me every other day. A perfect Kodak moment.

Darn. I felt smitten by this hot cat of a hunk. I managed to hold my breath steady when he jumped off the bench and greeted me.

“So, what’s your training regime today?”

Skimming nervously at the list,
“Chest on free-weights, I think…”

Surprisingly Michiko had changed my training routines starting that day. Now, how the hell shall I perform these new ones? I’ve never touched any free-weight pressing station previously in my life.

As I loaded the weights at the flat chest-press station, Yutaka approached me again.

“How heavy you need it?”
“Ten kilos on each side…”

“Okay, get in here!” he ordered me to lay on the bench.

He showed me how far my grips were supposed to be prior to almost loosing the balance of the free flying weighted bar. Then of course he quickly came to the rescue just before I immensely enjoyed what happened next.

Spread nicely only inches away as my vista, I can definitely smell his awesome manliness. Oh, I felt like licking his balls from down under if you know what I mean. As I lower the bar closer to my chest, his stance would go lower as well. Really, the thin layer of air was just a centimeter away before my nose would hit his sack of balls. Too bad he was wearing a training-pants not shorts. Shucks.

Keeping the required 12 reps I then rested for a while and at that perfect moment he daringly said, “The bar should fall just above the mid-section of your chest, right about here…”, while deliberately brushing both my protruding nipples with his forefingers.

It was so intense I swear I was drenching cold sweats from my forehead.

But I never knew that moving to the decline chest-press station after the previous 3 sets of flats would be so much fun.

This time he would move forward to help me steady my grips. By the time when lowering the bar was necessary, his perfect ass would linger on my grinning face. Arrghhh…. In my head I was trying so hard to figure out a way for him to literally sit on my face in order for me to give him a rim-job he’d never forget in his entire life!

Did he do that on purpose? Was he even supposed to stand that way to help support me? Why haven’t I seen any other spotting buddies situated himself so erotically-correct like this before anywhere?

Damn you Mister Devil.

After all the trainings were done for the day, he gave me that devilish warm smile again.

“See you Monday!” he said curtly without bringing-up the personal training subject again.

Angel: Oh, he’s good. He’s very good at this. I hate you
Devil: No, trust me, you’ll love me!