My left leg convulsed as Cory continued to lick my pussy. His tongue coaxed a deluge to shoot out of my pussy, but I suppressed it. If I had released it, I would’ve sprayed his entire face, and I worried that he would be disgusted by the taste of my fluid.
His phenomenal licking skills made me feel a sensation in my pussy that I had never felt. It’s as if my arousal compounded and would lead to a wave of orgasms, falling on top of each other endlessly. I wanted to surrender my body to him so that he could elevate me to a level of sexual satisfaction I had never felt. But I couldn’t let him have that degree of control over my body.
Although wanting to express immense pleasure, I had to hold back. If Cory knew he had that power over me, he would deprive me of it until he got what he wanted from me. I couldn’t handle the emotional blackmail.
I raked my fingers through his hair, clenched a fist of it and then pushed his head away from me. Like me, Cory couldn’t believe that I had done that. He knew that he was doing a stellar job.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Nothing. Everything’s good.”
He frowned and then moved his face towards my pussy.
“No, no.”
He frowned again. “What do you mean?”
“I want you inside of me.”
He raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. His facial expression suggested that he was baffled about the effect he had on me. I was certain that was the first time he thought that a woman wasn’t satisfied with his tongue skills.
“Okay. I just thought that you were enjoying that. Most women want foreplay, and they don’t have a problem with my performance.”
“You’re very good. That’s why I’m eager to have you inside of me.”
His lips curled. “As you wish.”
I got on my hands and knees. Cory grabbed my shoulders and thrust once, swiftly and vigorously. I shot out a gasp. Oh, my God. He was more skilful with his dick than his tongue. That felt amazing. I couldn’t wait to get hit with the second dose. But he kept me waiting.
I knew that he would do that. He gives you a taste of the good stuff and then makes you wait or doesn’t offer it again. There was no way that was the end of our sexual intercourse.
What is he waiting for? Is he playing games, or did he change his mind about banging my brains out? Maybe he was offended that I told him to stop licking me, and he wants to get back at me by not having sex with me.
I wanted to ask what he was doing, but I waited. Several seconds felt like minutes when you have a stagnant dick inside of you. I didn’t know how to interpret his behaviour. Was he really that childish?
I could tolerate his games for only so long.
He massaged my shoulders, giving me hope that we would be intimate. But I wondered to what degree. Was he teasing me, or was this a foreplay technique to stimulate me before banging my brains out? I was stimulated enough. He should just get on with it.
Cory scooped my hair into a ponytail and tugged it gently as he moved his hips forward. I wouldn’t call it a thrust, but rather a gentle nudge. Finally, we were in motion. Not at the pace that I expected, but I hoped that he would amp up his aggression.
After nudging me a few times, Cory stopped. He held my ponytail but remained still. I felt that we were back at square one. The worst part of his teasing is that I thought he would abruptly end the intercourse.
What is up with this guy? Does he wanna play games or get down to business?
My phone rang, snapping me out of reverie.
Who the hell is it now?
I looked at my phone and saw that it was Cory. Hmm. I wondered what he wanted. Weird time. Just as I’m fantasising about him, he springs into my life.
“Hello,” I said.
“Hey, active lady. How you doing?”
I was slightly annoyed that he ruined my fantasy. The least he should do is tell me how sexy I am and that he couldn’t stop thinking about me.
“Hi. I’m good.”
“Hope you’re resting. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
For some strange reason, I thought he said, ‘We’ve got a big dick tomorrow.’
Maybe that was wishful thinking.
“What do you mean?”
“We’re gonna train hard. That’s if you’re up for it.”
I interpreted that as if he said that he would train hard on me. I wish.
“Are you gonna slot it into—I mean. You got a slot for me?”
“Of course. That’s why I’m calling.”
“Okay, yeah, sure. Sounds good.”
“Awesome. Eight good for you?”
“Yeah. Anal—. Um, I mean eight is good for me. Sure.”
“Cool. See you tomorrow.”
I dropped my head, eyes closed, rubbing it as I thought about the way I sounded—desperate. Definitely desperate.
Ugh, I didn’t care. Cory probably knew that I wanted him to stuff his sausage into my roll. If he were half as skilful as I imagined him to be, we would have great sex.
I wondered how I should act around Cory—aloof so that he won’t notice my bitterness or passive-aggressive so that he wonders what he did to upset me. Being aloof seemed like the mature option, but I wanted him to know how I felt. Did he even care?
He might not be interested in me romantically and only cares about a professional relationship. It’s best that he doesn’t know that his actions had an effect on me. If he knew that, he would definitely do it again to amuse himself.
I couldn’t let him get the best of me. I had to be in control, and I knew just the way to do it.
The following morning, I woke up, feeling like I got a new lease on life. The reason? I got my trainer back. Cory’s companionship made me believe that we would become closer and that we could develop a relationship. But just as valuable was his coaching. I really wanted to be in the best shape of my life, and I knew that he was the best trainer to help me.
If he didn’t want me, I knew that a lot of other men would once I transformed my body. I wanted a wonderful husband, adorable children and the picket fence. And I believed that the most likely way to obtain that was by looking good and exuding femininity.
Mom taught me that men melted in the company of a feminine woman. She is soft spoken, friendly, cooperative and pleasant. Thinking about becoming that person made me realise the behaviour I needed to adopt when interacting with Cory and other men.
Being passive-aggressive was immature and would distance me from my goal.
Before I walked into the gym, I smiled. Even when unaware of potential suitors in my vicinity, I wanted them to see me as a happy and positive person. Nobody likes an unpleasant and nagging woman. I was glad that I had that epiphany.
“Welcome, welcome,” said. Cory. “You’re looking jubilant.”
“It’s a great day. There’s lots to feel good about.”
“Nice. I like that. You’re ready to start?”
“Can’t wait.”
“Awesome. Let’s get cracking.”
Not training with Cory the day before made me appreciate our training because I knew that it could be the last one. Fear of loss is a great motivator to appreciate what you have.
I strained myself during the training because I wanted Cory to see that I gave it my all. I felt that I had to prove to him that I was worth training.
By the end of the training, my shirt was sopping wet, feeling much heavier. I felt like I weighed a few kilograms less, and my stomach was completely empty. I needed to eat immediately.
“You trained so hard today. I’m so proud of you,” said Cory.
“Thanks,” I said, panting.
He put his hand on my shoulder and asked, “How you feeling?”
“Good. I’m starving, but I’m good.”
“Go home and eat something. Don’t stuff yourself. You probably feel like you skipped several meals.” I smiled and nodded. “That’s a good thing, but don’t cancel out this session by consuming a lot of carbs.”
“What do you suggest I eat?”
“Fish and vegetables.”
I nodded and smiled. “Sounds good.”
Cory walked me to my car and hugged me. I felt his pride as he held me. He pulled back, smiled at me while holding my shoulders and then kissed my forehead. Progress. We were getting closer. I felt that it was a matter of time before he kissed me on the lips.
I stopped at a supermarket and filled the basket with a kilogram of salmon, vegetables, three two-litre water bottles and fruit. Not being starved and dehydrated that much ever before made me wonder if I had bought enough. I could always pop by later if I ran out of anything.
At home, the crackling of the oil on the stove and the smell of the salmon made me hungrier.
Green peas with salmon and a side salad were a great combination. I ate about five hundred grams of salmon and left the rest for dinner. I was certain that I would be peckish later.
Cory’s recommendation was perfect. I felt nourished but not stuffed. I made a note on my phone to ask him about my diet.
My phone beeped. Cory wrote, ‘Hope you ate well. You deserved it. Train hard, eat healthy. Wink emoji.’
That was a great motto I needed to follow. If I got that right, the body I wanted was an inevitable goal.
I responded, ‘Ate well. I’m going to bed early to rest and be ready for tomorrow.’
He sent me a thumbs up and the time for tomorrow’s slot. I couldn’t wait to train with him again. It seemed that we were back to the regular schedule. I wanted to train with him every weekday, and I didn’t care how much it cost. Reaching my fitness goal was worth every penny. I’d rather spend that money on a trainer than on hospital bills.
After the two-hour bath, I lay on the couch and watched a romance flick. A woman and a man found each other and fell in love but got separated during a civil war because their religions were at war with each other.
Tears pooled in my eyes. I hated soppy love stories because they made me weep. Why must the people who are meant to be with each other face tremendous adversity to be with each other? I know it’s a movie, but the cruelty I felt was beyond comprehension. Two good people should be with each other without a hiccup. Just like Cory and me.
I think that he and I would make a great couple, especially once I get into shape. I figured that I would reach that goal in the next three months. During that time, we could date and build a strong connection. Once I’m slim and muscular, we could announce our relationship to friends and family.
We were right for each other. The only thing that kept us apart was my body mass. But that would reduce significantly if we kept training.
I thought about texting him a compliment about being a great trainer. I considered adding that he looked amazing, but I thought that could cross the professional line. He had to make the first move. If I did it and he wasn’t interested in me, I feared that he wouldn’t train me because he would feel awkward around me.
Acting blasé could delay our relationship. I had to show him that I was interested without being too overt.
During the training, I briefly touched his arm several times. I also thanked him for being professional and a friend. He knew how to balance the two. I also complimented his muscles. I’m sure he heard that before, but I wanted him to hear it from me.
Like a gentleman, he escorted me to my car again after our session. I asked him what he likes to eat, and he told me that he loves steak. I claimed to be an expert at preparing steak and invited him for dinner.
He looked forward to having dinner with me.
At home, I sifted through my closet. The black knee-high dress with the transparent torso was my favourite. It revealed enough skin for a man to notice my body, but left plenty to the imagination.
I tried it on. However I adjusted it, the dress was one size too small. No! Why is this happening to me now? I would look absolutely stunning in it.
My shoulders dropped as I exhaled, my eyes closed. A part of me was glad that I couldn’t wear that dress. I look good in it when it fits. But I’m still out of shape. I don’t want to give Cory any reason to be turned off by me. He’s used to being with physique models, so I don’t think that he would find my loose waist attractive.
I opted for the long evening dress that reached my ankles and hid the additional weight. It was perfect, considering the way I looked.
I wanted Cory to touch me after dinner, but I worried about his opinion of my not-so-lovable love handles. I would be distraught if he touched me and felt disgusted by my body.
The doorbell rang. I looked at myself in the mirror and adjusted my dress.
You look great, Jacqueline. Sure, you’d look even better if you lost about ten kilograms, but all in due time.
I opened the door and saw Cory, holding a wine bottle up to his head.
“I thought we’d let our hair loose tonight since you’ve been training hard,” he said.
My hair is not the only thing that I would like to loosen up tonight. “Come in.”
He placed the wine on the island and said, “You look dashing in that dress. Wow. Look at you.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m not used to seeing you like this. I always see you in track pants, so this is a refreshing change.” He held his hands up and added, “Not that you don’t look great in those, but—.”
I smiled. “It’s not a problem. I know what you mean. And, thank you.”
He sat in the lounge, and I opened the wine bottle. I handed him his glass and then sat beside him.
Cory raised his glass and said, “To getting into the best shape of your life and living healthy.”
Our glasses clinked as we smiled at each other.
“Hmm. That’s great wine,” I said.
“I’m glad you like it. It’s been a while since I had wine, so I went for a pricier bottle, hoping that the quality justified the price tag.”
“That, it does. I can’t remember the last time I had wine this good.”
“Do you drink often?”
“I used to last summer when I went out with my girlfriends. I was never a big drinker, but it’s easy to be influenced by others who are when you’re hanging out.”
“Your girlfriends drink a lot?”
I raised my eyebrows, broadened my eyes and nodded. “Truth be told, I think they were drinking away their sorrows. All of us are over thirty years old, and none of us is in a serious relationship, never mind married with children.”
“Getting smashed isn’t going to attract the husband type.”
“Agreed. I blindly followed their lead, and it did more harm than good. I adopted that mentality and then ended up eating like a pig during autumn and winter.” As I looked at my stomach, I added, “And now look at me.”
“You’re not that bad. I’ve seen worse.”
I wasn’t certain whether to interpret that as a backhanded compliment or pity. Either way, it’s not the impression that I hoped Cory had of me.
If he’s not interested in me, why is he here? Maybe he wants to build more rapport so that I continue training him. No, that can’t be it. He knows that I want to train with him, regardless of how he feels about me.
I was uncertain about Cory’s intention, but I tried not to think about it too much. I needed to be present in the model and enjoy myself. Analysing things would distract me and drive me further from my goal.
While Cory spoke about how he got into personal training, I prepared his steak medium-rare and mine raw. Two baked potatoes and a big bowl of salad accompanied the steaks.
“Looks awesome,” said Cory.
“I’m glad you like what you see. Let’s hope that your mouth feels the same as your eyes.”
Strangely, that felt like a sexual innuendo. Although I didn’t mean it to be. But if he interpreted it that way, maybe that was a good thing. After all, he is in my house, eating and drinking with me. Surely, he thinks that I’m open to flirting?
Cory sliced a piece of the steak and chewed it for several seconds before closing his eyes and nodding. I hoped that was a good sign, but I wasn’t certain.
He looked at me, finished chewing and then said, “That is freaking delicious. Juicy, tender. Oh, man. What more can a guy ask for?”
He sliced another piece, chewed it and then another one. Cory kept eating, and I refrained from talking to avoid disrupting his meal. I felt that my meat did all the talking for me. Oh, God. That was another innuendo. Too bad he didn’t hear that one. That was quite a kinky one. I wonder if he’s kinky. Probably is. I’ll have to find out.
Cory sliced the potato, and steam rose from it. He smiled and then jabbed his fork into it and sliced a piece. He kept his eyes closed and nodded as he chewed.
I smiled as he opened his eyes and swallowed the last piece.
“You’re a good cook. I should hire you to work for me,” he said.
“Maybe I’ll cook for you for free. All you have to do is invite me over to your place.”
He held out his hand and said, “Done.”
We shook hands, smiling.
Cory added, “I can’t remember the last time I ate this well.”
I tilted my head slightly and narrowed my eyes, dubious about his statement. “I’m sure you’ve had other female clients cook for you.”
“No, you’re the first. I’ve eaten steak at restaurants before, but this tops them all.”
“You’re serious?”
“I have no reason to lie.”
“Thank you. I thought you were just being polite.”
“If I wanted to be polite, I would say thank you and not bother with buttering you up.”
Not only was Cory gorgeous, empathetic and understanding, but he was incredibly kind. I found the perfect man. But I needed to convince him that I was perfect for him.
“Hope you don’t mind if I pry into your personal affairs,” I said.
“I’m a fairly open book.”
“Are you married, in a relationship, or something else?”
He smiled. “Something else?”
“Well, you know these days people are into all kinds of funny things.”
“I’m single.”
“So am I. What are you looking for, if I may ask?”
“I don’t have time for relationships. Work keeps me busy, so I can’t dedicate the amount of time a woman expects. And you, ladies, like a lot of attention.”
I smiled to confirm his opinion. Although my lips were curled, my heart stung. I couldn’t believe that he didn’t prioritise relationships. Why didn’t he feel that it was more important to be with somebody special than to work all the time?
Cory spoke, but I didn’t hear him because I kept thinking about the reason for his lack of interest in a relationship. I took it personally. It felt like the universe was picking on me. Just when I met the man I could spend the rest of my life with, he’s not interested in me. Apparently, he’s not interested in being in a relationship with any woman. Huh. Or so he says. He’s probably letting me down easy. But I didn’t come on to him. I don’t know what his problem is.
Maybe he really feels that way. But why? I’ve got good morals. I’m a nice person. I cook well, and I’ll treat him better than any other woman. Sure, he’s around more attractive women than me, but my body has improved significantly in a short period. And it will get even better. He knows that.
I sighed.
Cory looked at me, seeming stunned. “Everything okay?”
“Ya. Everything’s fine.”
“I thought that maybe I overstayed my welcome, and you wanted me to leave.”
“No. Not at all. Sorry. It’s just female stuff. Nothing to do with you. Actually…”
“Yes?”
I lowered my gaze to the floor and considered backtracking. But it was too late. My biological clock was ticking, and I had more to lose than my ego. What did I have to lose by sharing my feelings? It was time.
“I’m curious why you don’t want a relationship. I know you mentioned work, but I think there’s more to it.”
He raised his eyebrows, shook his head and said, “No, I think that’s it. I’ve got a lot on my plate, and I like peace.”
“The right woman can make you feel peace like you’ve never felt. Imagine coming home after a hard day’s work, and the house is clean. Food is on the table, and she massages you while you eat and attends to you afterwards. Don’t that sound great?”
“It does. The problem is that I have to exert a lot of effort to get to that.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I have to take her out on a few dates before we officially become a couple. Then, I have to buy her gifts, take her on weekend getaways and do all kinds of things to impress her before she eventually offers all the things you mentioned.”
I shook my hand. “Not every woman is like that, Cory. I offered to cook for you, and I expected nothing in return or anything before that.”
He kept looking at me. I knew that I had stumped him. He had no excuse not to give me a chance. I knew he was convinced that I wasn’t like most women.
I had more to share with him, but I stopped talking because I wanted him to speak. But he remained silent. I knew there was another reason for his reluctance to commit to a relationship.
His eyes revealed that he didn’t want to share with me the real reason, and I didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable.
“Would you like dessert?” I asked.
“Sounds good.”
In the kitchen, I sliced two pieces. I handed him his plate, and he asked me what it was. He enjoyed the flourless banana cake, and I sliced another piece for him. To avoid awkward silence, I filled the gaps with random comments. Their effectiveness fizzled out after the fifth comment, accentuating the underlying issue.
“I’m sorry if I probed deeply into your personal affairs. It’s none of my business,” I said.
“That’s fine. It’s not a problem. I appreciate your interest.”
“You’re a fantastic guy, Cory. I really like you. I really do. I’m just trying to understand why you feel the way you do.”
“But why?”
We stared at each other for a few seconds. His eyes revealed that he knew how I felt about him, but he wanted me to profess my feelings. I wondered if it was to stroke his ego or because he wanted to confirm his suspicions before embracing me so that we could start our new life together.
“I don’t wanna cross any professional boundaries and make you feel so uncomfortable that you don’t want to train me any longer.”
He frowned. “No. Absolutely not. We’re talking like adults. I’ll appreciate your openness.”
“Okay. You have qualities that I admire in a man, and I can offer you things that men look for in a woman they are serious about.”
He processed what I said for a few seconds, and I saw that he understood when his expression changed.
“I see. You want us to date with the hopes of being in a relationship?”
“Yes.”
Saying that felt liberating. I freed the feelings that I harboured, and I immediately felt better. I had no idea why I had kept them to myself. It was stupid. Life is too short not to express what I’m feeling. I mean, it’s just feelings after all. So silly.
“Was this supposed to be a romantic get-together?”
“That’s what I hope for. Yes.”
“What if we had sex first and then saw how we felt about each other?”
I felt that was a strange way to build a relationship. He hadn’t even taken me out to dinner, yet he already expected sex. Initially, I planned to be physical with him after the meal, but I feel differently now that I professed my feelings.
At the very least, I expected him to mention a quality that he admired about me. But the first thing he mentions is sex. That seems a bit rushed. I deserve more courting than that.
I questioned Cory’s motives.
“When was the last time you were in a serious relationship?” I asked.
His cheeks inflated, and his eyes broadened as he thought about the answer. “It’s been a while.” That’s what I thought.
“Hope you don’t mind me asking, but when was the last time you had sex?”
“Three days ago.”
“And before that?”
“A week.”
“Was it with the same woman?”
“No.”
“I’m guessing you have access to various women for sexual encounters.”
“You could say that.”
“That’s the reason that you don’t want to commit to any woman in particular. You can have many, so why settle for one?”
Cory stared at me. The truth had dawned on him. Both of us had an epiphany. His seemed more favourable. I just discovered that the man I had been waiting for was not emotionally available.
I was glad that I hadn’t slept with him. He would’ve moved on to the next woman, and I wondered why I hadn’t satisfied him. He was the problem, not me. Well, he didn’t consider his lifestyle problematic. I’m sure he had lots of fun, but we wanted different outcomes.
I wanted a man to come home to me, occasionally carrying flowers to thank me for cleaning the house, preparing the food and creating a home. Cory wanted hotter sex than what he had with his previous conquest. Sigh.
Was I destined to spend the rest of my life by myself? Mom is going to be so disappointed with me. Where am I going to find another Cory who wants a relationship that leads to marriage? Oh, God. He probably doesn’t even exist.
I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers against my temple. I was uncertain about how to react or who to blame. Cory wasn’t at fault for not being the man I wanted him to be. He was perfect for some floozy who wanted a good bang.
I wanted to vent my frustration, but that would’ve been inappropriate in front of my guest. He came to enjoy a nice meal, not listen to my sob stories. That wouldn’t be fair to him. Besides, I wanted him to keep training me so that I could look good for the man of my dreams.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine. Sorry about that. I was processing my feelings. You know how we, women, are.”
“Yeah. I understand. I hope I didn’t say anything to upset you.”
“No, not at all. I actually wanted to apologise to you if I said anything to make you uncomfortable. That really wasn’t my intention.”
He smiled. “We’re good.”
“So, Monday we’re back at the gym?”
“Absolutely. Before midday is always good for me. Let’s do eleven o’clock.”
“Awesome. I’m looking forward to it.”
“I better get going. I’ve got some admin to finish.”
I walked Cory to the door. He pecked both of my cheeks, and I thanked him for coming. I believed that he felt some discomfort after our conversation, but that discussion was inevitable. I had to know how he felt about me.
Technically, he didn’t reject me. He rejected relationships. That’s unfortunate, but we were at two different stages in our lives. Perhaps, one day, after he’s overindulged in sex romps, he’ll contact me and ask to take me to dinner.
On second thought, I don’t think I could be with someone who’s been with many women. I would always wonder if they satisfied him better than I did and if he’d leave me because of that.
It’s fine, Jacqueline. Don’t panic. You’re on the right path by getting your body into shape. You’re wearing your heart on your sleeve, and you handle unfavourable situations with class and maturity. The man of your dreams is on his way to you, and he’ll present himself to you at just the right time.