The Very Personal Trainer - Part 3

This installment is long enough to be broken into two parts, but I feel like treating all of you. Luckily for our VIP members, Ryan is ready to treat you in the server with some more personalized photos...

Quickly passing the front desk, I didn’t see Tony there, and I kept my pace to make sure that he didn’t see me if he was here. Two nights ago, I had thrown my clothes back on, practically ran into the locker room, and ducked out the employee exit in the back by the loading dock. My heart hadn’t slowed down until I was safely parked back in my driveway, but once I’d gotten inside and stripped off that jockstrap, I felt its pace speeding up again. I’d then stuffed the elicit underwear deep into my hamper to get it out of my mind.

Now, that feeling was back because I was in the gym again wearing a pair of underwear that wasn’t mine.

Hey man, I hope this is the right size ;)

That was what the slip of paper said inside.

I had gotten it yesterday morning when I came to the gym to angrily run on the treadmill. The day crew apparently hadn’t been briefed on my wild escapades, since no one had said anything to me then. Sandy just let me know that a package had been left for me, and she slid it over without giving any hints that she had a guess of what was inside.

I tried to act like I didn’t know either until I was safely back at home. On my kitchen counter, I tore open the box and pulled out a pair of posing trunks from the plastic wrap. As I held up the tiny strips of purple plastic, I once again lamented that this piece of equipment should have a different name. Trunks made me think of short boxer briefs, but these didn’t have the word boxer in the name. They were just briefs, and if you flexed a certain way, they really turned into thongs.

And for my second of the three initial sessions that I had booked, I would be wearing just this pair for most of the workout.

Back in the present, I stood in the warm-up area, shifting weight from one foot to another as I waited for my client to arrive. I was facing away from the main area of the gym, but in the wall of mirrors behind me, I saw that it was packed almost to capacity tonight. Was it just busy? Or had someone people decided to exercise tonight just to see me embarrass myself again?

I didn’t know the answer, and to distract myself, I began repeating that the paycheck was worth it. If I kept saying it enough then I might actually start to believe the sentiment.

“Ryan?”

Turning around, I saw an older man, maybe late fifties or early sixties, who clearly had been keeping up with his physique. His t-shirt was stretched over his biceps, and he had on shorts the same length as mine that showed off his thighs. I was a bit confused on why he would possibly need a personal trainer until I remembered the extra package that he’d booked.

I wasn’t here to help- I was here to be watched.

For the first portion though, there was no sleaziness at all. We just worked out, chatting about our stories, and I remembered the reason why I took the leap to try personal training. And then, as if he had an internal clock that was counting down until the moment, he sat up and looked my way as I said my line:

“Okay, so our trial period is over now, and it’s up to you what we do next.”

And then, as if he’d done this numerous times already, he said his:

“Let’s cut the small talk and see that gift that I got you.”

A spike of energy ran down my spine, and I felt my body getting hot as his deep growl of a voice barked out that order. He sat there waiting, knowing that he wouldn’t have to repeat himself. Pulling my shirt over my head, I dropped it to the floor and stepped out of my shorts in less than five seconds.

The whole gym was watching as I stood there in nothing but a pair of shiny purple posing trunks. They were cut high on my muscular legs, and my bulge was sitting in front of me, beckoning everyone to stare straight at it.

This shouldn’t be a big deal, but my body wasn’t letting itself accept that. I have been to numerous bodybuilding competitions where I’ve worn a similar pair, albeit in a less flashy color, to this, but here, I was the only one dressed down like this. On stage, I was surrounded by other spray tanned, oily men that pulled focus, but there was no attraction other than me tonight.

“Santa came early this year.” He winked at me as he walked over to put his first set of weights back on the rack. “When are you going to be coming tonight?”

He caught me off guard with that question, and he knew it. Before I could try to correct myself, he stepped right in front of me and wrapped his grasp around my bulge, tantalizing me with one touch before stepping away to clean up the rest of his weights.

In my first session, Greg hadn’t touched me until the very end when I’d been nervous that I was going to let him fuck me with his fingers right there in the gym. Tonight, Bert had wasted no time, and I wondered if I would be able to hold out until the cool down period. Especially since I felt like I needed a cool down right now…

As we kept going, I felt other eyes on me, but I never looked up once- I couldn’t. I looked like I was being so attentive with my client, but in reality, I knew that my eyes had nowhere else to safely land. So, I just let my own internal clock tick down until I was eventually done.

I was focused on counting in my head when Bert broke the silence.

“So, do I have to pay extra for this?”

“The squat rack? No, I want to see your activity in multiple muscle groups tonight to gauge where you’re at with your fitness. We’re not going heavy on any of these reps in this session.”

“No, I meant the fact that you’re waving hello at me.”

I was standing beside the rack, and confused, I looked over at my hand braced against the side to see if that’s what he was referring to. He tilted his head down next, and as I followed his gaze, I looked down in horror to see the pink head of my cock poking out of the side of the posers.

“What the fuck, Bert?!” I tried to stuff myself back inside the pouch, but I didn’t want to alert everyone around me about what had happened. “Why didn’t you tell me once it slipped out?”

That last question came out as a forced whisper, but my companion wasn’t frantic at all as he answered.

“And ruin the fun? Absolutely not.” He took a step forward towards me, closer than we’d been all night. “Let me help you though.”

His hands were on me again as he slid two fingers under the fabric of the pouch, one on each side. He could pretend all he wanted that he was just smoothing out the front of the suit, but he was copping a feel. His fingertips ran down the length of my shaft, and once he reached the head of my cock, he flipped me up so that my meat was pointed up at the tiny waistband.

“There, you should stay a little more contained now.”

His tone was so soothing now, but I felt the opposite. I could feel myself wanting to firm up, but the only thing that could make this situation worse was to be walking around with a boner leading my way.

Nodding, I knew that my throat was now too dry to answer, and I’m not sure what I could say anyway.

Heading to what would be our last station, I got him set up again before disaster struck. He was on his back, ready for a few bench press reps, and I was behind him spotting. Looking down, I saw him staring straight at my prominent bulge, and I knew that he was now imagining my underwear on the floor beside the rest of my clothes.

Blocking out that thought, I gave him some encouraging words and told him to start. He was pumping through each lift, and finally, for the first time tonight, there was a little quiver. I grabbed onto the bar for him to help relieve some of the weight, but his arms were giving out.

As he tapped out, I looked up to see the man in front of us staring with his mouth wide open. I had seen him earlier tonight, so I know that he wasn’t noticing my outfit for the first time. Deep down, I knew exactly what he was staring at, but I didn’t want to look down and confirm.

Lifting the bar back into its rack, I told Bert to sit up so that I could stand behind him, but he wasn’t moving an inch. As he winked up at me, I knew that his tapping out was all an act- I’d been played.

Finally looking down, I saw the head of my now semi-hard cock poking out above the purple fabric, and if I didn’t make a run for it now, I was about to completely expose myself.

Bert was loudly laughing now as I tried to wedge myself back into place, but that was a pointless endeavor. Stumbling out some goodbye, I quickly walked back to my bag with my clothes and ran for that employee exit door. There were men in my way, but I just barged past them and their groping hands.

One guy hooked a few fingers under the fabric and pulled it down, but I didn’t pause at all to stop him. I just took the last few strides towards the door and launched myself into the first bit of privacy I’d had since walking inside.

Quickly getting dressed, I flat out ran to my truck and drove off before I could even process what had just happened.

Back home, I saw the notification for a second appointment with Bert. My finger hovered over the Decline button, but I just couldn’t do it. Not as I saw the amount beside it that was doubled what I’d just earned…