[27F/22M] Adventures at the Apartment Gym

It was cold and a little rainy outside and I was thankful the walk from my apartment to the community gym wasn’t too far. At six in the morning it was a struggle to get dressed and drag myself down here, but the the gym was empty, quiet, and unused and that was worth the early wake-up for me. Thankfully they kept the gym at a sane temperature year round, it was tempting to turn it up higher than the 74 it was at but I knew once I got going I’d be grateful that I hadn’t turned it up higher. I hung my coat on one of the hooks and took off my gloves, did a couple of stretches, popped in my earbuds so I could listen to an e-book, and got on the stationary bike and started pedaling.

The thing that I love the most about stationary bikes is that I can go as fast as I want and really only have to worry about what my legs are doing. I usually set a pace and then lean back and close my eyes, getting lost in whatever I’m listening to that day. After about twenty minutes I was breathing hard, my legs were burning, and I was lost inside the story I was listening to. I wasn’t aware of it at the time but I was pedaling to the cadence of the narrator’s voice, when the action rose my pace increased and when things slowed down so did my legs. It’s an interesting way to vary the pace of your work outs, but it only really works if you just let yourself get totally lost in what you’re listening to. More time passed and I was getting really short of breath, I could feel the tell-tale burn in my legs would soon give way to cramps and knew it was time to start cooling down. I opened my eyes and reached out to decrease the tension in the bike. Out of the corner of my eye I saw movement–

“Fuck!” I yelled. There was a guy on the treadmill a few feet down from me, jogging away. I had no idea when he’d come in, I’d never seen anyone else in the gym this early so I’d stopped bothering to pay attention to my surroundings. The man flinched at my exclamation and turned to look over at me.

“Uh, hey. Sorry.” He said. He was young, a lot younger than I would have expected someone who was at the gym at six in the morning to be.

“No worries, you caught me off guard is all.” I smiled at him, and he turned back to his running.

It’s weird how in any other circumstance I’d be incredibly embarrassed by my appearance. Sweat ran down my chest, leaving the front of my grey sports bra soaked, my hair was tied in a lazy pony tail with strands coming out and making me look like a disheveled mess, and my yoga pants were starting to fray and wearing thin. I even had a hole in one of my shoes. But here in the gym this all seemed normal, even expected. Not to look slovenly, mind, but to look like you actually went through the stresses of exercise and wear the damage to your body and clothes with pride. Even Mr. Young Runner next to me didn’t seem to mind that his t-shirt was sweat stained and had more than its fair share of holes- it was just expected.

I was done with my time on the cycle anyway, surprises from random dudes aside, and got up to do some more stretches. The one weird thing about this gym is that the far wall, closest to the treadmills, is covered in mirrors. I’m not sure why they felt we needed to be able to see ourselves and each other at all times, but it made doing any yoga stretches with someone in the room a little awkward. But, it was part of my routine, and this guy wasn’t giving me any weird vibes, and he was kinda cute, so why not?

I started with a child’s pose, stretching left and right, then got up into a down dog pose. The thing about down dog pose is that your ass is up in the air and you’re bent over, leaving you fully capable to see between your legs and, in this case, I could see right into the bank of mirrors on the far wall. And Mr. Young Runner was not being subtle at all about checking my ass out through the mirror. His eyes met mine and he snapped his head around so fast I swear I heard it pop. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t turning red just because of the exercise.

A few minutes of stretches later and I stood up and hopped onto the treadmill next to Mr. Young Runner. He didn’t look up as I got on, but I took a moment to smile at him anyway, try and let him know there was no ill will about the checking me out thing. It happens, and he wasn’t ogling me or making creepy comments and stopped, so, whatever. Let bygones be bygones. I fired up the treadmill, hit play on my ebook again, and got into the flow.

We were like that for about twenty minutes, just jogging, eyes forward, lost in our own paces and our own breathing. He’d take an occasional sip of water, and then I would. We weren’t in sync, but we weren’t out of sync either, if that makes any sense. We both went into cooldown about the same time, bringing the pace of our treadmills down to a quick walk, a walk, then a slow walk. I stepped off my treadmill and felt that strange sensation of the world moving too fast, like I needed to start running to keep up with it. Mr. Young Runner toweled off his sweat and I did too, then I bundled back up and headed for the door. Something made me stop and turn around.

“See you tomorrow?” I asked. Not coyly, or sexily, or anything more than just genuine curiosity. He nodded and smiled.

“Sure.” He said. I smiled back.

That was our routine for a few days. He’d come in about halfway through my routine, run for a little while, pretend to not be checking me out when I stretched, and finish up around the same time I did. We shared our names, Garth, a weird one for sure, and talked about little things sometimes. Jobs, weather, the Super Bowl. Whatever. I wasn’t sure if this was turning into something, or if this was just a fun little distraction while I exercised, but I wasn’t in any hurry to figure it out. Whatever it was, I was fine with it as is.

Of course, as we know, life never really agrees to our plans.

When this all started I knew that I should have replaced at least some of my workout clothes. I *knew* that my yoga pants were wearing thin, that Garth could probably make out my panties beneath them, these are things I knew. But there was a little thrill in letting Garth see my underwear, and I was lazy, so combined I just never got around to it. Until the issue was forced on me. It has to be a universal truth that you’re never aware of holes in your clothes until you are *painfully* aware of holes in them. Today? Well, I was in the middle of a down dog pose, ass up in the air, when I realized that sometime during my ride I’d managed to rub a hole right through the ass of my pants. Not a big one, mind you, no larger than my thumb, just enough flesh to be tantalizing and not enough to be obscene, but it was there. I saw it as I looked at the mirror between my legs, I saw Garth looking at it, and we both saw each other seeing it.

That familiar feeling settled in my stomach. The feeling of being on the precipice, the feeling of being able to take a plunge, to jump off the cliff and indulge myself. One of us just had to make the first move. I willed Garth to take his eyes from my ass and look at me, see *me*, to look me in the eye.

He did. I smiled. Nodded. He stepped off the still running treadmill and walked over to me. I didn’t move, just stayed there in my down dog pose, pretending for all the world that I was just having a good stretch.

“Hey, you sure–” Garth began.

“Yes.” I interrupted him.

“Like this?” he asked.

“Yes!” I said. “Hurry!”

Garth walked behind me. I started breathing harder. He put his hands on my hips and slid my pants down until they were bunched up around my knees, then pulled my panties down with them. In less than two minutes I’d gone from stretches during exercises, to having my pussy and asshole exposed to a more or less stranger while I waited for him to fuck me in a yoga pose. I was *very* wet. I heard shuffling behind me and looked between our legs to see Garth fiddling with his shorts, pulling them down and letting them fall to his ankles. He started tugging his underwear down when he surprised me be sliding a finger inside me. I gasped in surprise.

“Wow.” He said.

“Huh?”

“Most women don’t get this wet.” He said. I wasn’t sure if he meant it in a good or bad way, but I’m a little sensitive about it regardless.

“Maybe you’re not doing it right.” I shot back.

“Seems to be working for you.” Garth said, pushing another finger inside me.

Touche, Garth.

He spent a minute like that, fingering me slowly, letting me trying and figure out how to deal with the tension in my body while I was getting fingered. I was pretty sure he was jerking himself off too, but I wasn’t paying a ton of attention. As abruptly as he entered me, he removed his fingers and I sighed in disappointment.

“Ready?”

“Yes. Do it.” I whispered.

It was only when I felt his cock pushing inside me that I realized I was fucking a near stranger in the middle of a gym anyone could walk into at any time, without protection. Clearly, I was losing my fucking mind. And yet, as more of him pressed inside me, the less I cared about these things. I’d never been fucked in this position before, the effort of holding myself in place while he pounded into me from behind was a beautiful agony I’d never imagined. It was like I was holding myself back from enjoying it as much as I could, which somehow amplified what I was feeling. It was a really strange feeling, but one I wasn’t going to argue with.

Garth didn’t say anything while he fucked me. He just held onto my hips and hammered my pussy, grunting with effort, filling me in this new and wonderful way. I wanted to play with my tits or rub my pussy but if I did I’d fall out of the down dog pose, and I didn’t want that to happen either. So I was just there, at the mercy of Garth’s cock, waiting for him to finish before I could do anything. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes he spent fucking me, but the need to touch myself, my tits, my pussy, my clit, to suck my fingers, to slap my ass, to do *anything* made me feel like I’d been stuck like that for *days*. Eventually, I heard a change in Garth’s breathing, a shallower angle to his thrusts, and I knew it was time.

“Where?” he asked.

I’d come this far. Why not?

“Inside.”

I barely managed to get the word out before he pushed as deep inside me as he could, holding me in place as he shot his cum inside me. It felt like he was never going to stop cumming. I’m pretty sure guys cum harder when they’re allowed to do it inside someone, it just felt like so damn much! As soon as he finished cumming in my pussy and pulled out I let my legs fall out from under me, moving into a more traditional ‘face down ass up’ pose (haha!). I reached between my legs and started rubbing my clit, felt his cum run down my fingers and into my palm, and just started rubbing faster. Was Garth watching me? Getting dressed? I had no idea. I was intent on making myself cum as fast as possible. Thinking of what I’d just done, feeling the burn in my legs, smelling the sex all around us, I didn’t last long. I gasped, clenched my legs, bit my lip, and moaned into the yoga mat underneath me.

After my body finished trembling with my orgasm I rolled over onto my back and looked up at Garth. He’d gotten dressed, and I took a moment to wipe our cum off my hand onto my gym towel, and pull my panties and pants up. He was smiling at me with that smile you only ever get to see after you’ve made a dude cum well. I smiled the same kind of lazy, satisfied smile back.

“See you tomorrow?” I asked.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/49l13a/27f22m_adventures_at_the_apartment_gym