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“More.” Wednesday grunted, looking up at the man stubbornly.
“No.” He insisted, “you’re not ready - “
“Give me another now,” she gritted out in frustration, sweat coating her forehead.
He sighed from above her, sliding another plate into the bar she was lifting.
She finished her reps and placed the bar in its place, quickly getting up from her recline. “What the hell,” she spat, narrowing her eyes at his name tag, “Tyler?” She placed her hands on her hips. “I thought you’re supposed to be helping the people here, not disturbing them.”
The young man in the grey instructor shirt crossed his admittedly muscular arms. “I was helping you not injure yourself,” he said, clearly annoyed. “You’re outlifting more than you can handle.”
“Oh, and you know better than me what I can handle?” she could feel her temper heating up. She kept her tone controlled as ever, but made sure to make it much more ominous.
“You weigh, like, what - 90 pounds? Ain’t no way you’re lifting that.” He looked at her, unimpressed.
She nearly took a step back from her shock at his rudeness. “I just did, Tyler, so tough luck. Go find someone else to bother,” she sniped and turned around, sitting back down on the press bench and getting ready for another set.
Mumbling something about her being a ray of sunshine, he walked away, his back stretching the instructor shirt.
She finished her workout with renewed vigor, lifting more than she ever had before.
It’s only been a few days since she joined that gym, and it was her first time running into him. He approached her to ask if she could use a spotter, a suggestion she accepted - which she now obviously regretted. The rest of her workout was thankfully uneventful, and she made sure to ignore the instructor completely as she walked past him on her way out.
Little did she know then, it would become a near impossible task on her next visits to the gym.
Each time she arrived to an early morning workout, at the time when the gym was mostly empty, he was there, nodding at her like they were some kind of old friends. One time she tried going late at night instead, when his eye contact with her became just shy of unbearable - and there he was, again, tidying up the weightlifting area and watching her through the mirror as she tried to exhaust herself to death on the elliptical.
Actually, it took over a month into her membership in the gym to arrive at a time he wasn’t working, and even then her happiness was short lived - once she spotted him on one of her favorite machines, the chest press. But that wasn’t the reason she stopped in her tracks, nearly walking into a treadmill.
Him not working as an instructor at the moment meant he was outside his usual uniform t-shirt, or outside any shirt at all, as he pressed what seemed to be twice her weight. She quickly turned around and rushed to another machine, resuming the orchestra which blared inside her ears all throughout her workout, not at all eyeing his Adam’s apple when he gulped some water.
Or his golden, toned body, shining with a coat of sweat. Or his arms flexing as he slowly, easily, infuriatingly added more weight, continuing his workout calmly, not rushing into each press (like she herself was prone to do) but spreading each movement on and on, as if he didn’t even mind the -
“Are you using this, or…?” a voice spoke over her music, startling her and disturbing her staring.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” she snapped back, grabbing the handles and giving the skinny guy with the ponytail a deathly glare.
She spent that workout breathless and on edge, trying to align herself so that her back was turned to Tyler at any given moment. She successfully avoided him to the very end, breathing a sigh of relief when she finally left the training area, heading to fill her water bottle and hurry home to a much needed shower.
She turned the corner to see him next to the cooler, still very much shirtless - and sweaty, too - and before she had the chance to deter, he was already waving her over.
“Need me to fill you up too?” he carelessly asked when she took off her headphones, nearly making her jump out of her skin, stuttering, “wh- what?!”
He gestured to her water bottle, cocking an eyebrow.
“Oh - yeah,” she handed him the bottle quickly, feeling like doing anything would be better than letting him dwell on her reaction. “Thanks.”
“Your plank got substantially better,” he observed as she stood there awkwardly, looking at him filling the bottle. “You aren’t shaking as much by the end of each one.”
“Sounds like you’ve been paying close attention.” Her voice was almost outraged.
“Well, yeah. That’s my job.”
“To ogle girls working out?” she asked mockingly. She knew the venom was exaggerated, but she just couldn’t hold back.
“To make sure everyone is training safely.” He tilted his head. “I have to stare, if I want to be able to help, and I do that with everybody.” He handed her her water. “You’re not special.”
Her pride took the painful hit, leaving her at a loss for words for a moment. “Well, I don’t need your help,” she finally gritted, “so you can take me off your ogling list.” She snatched her bottle and stormed away, adamant to leave him and the scent of his sweaty body as far as she could behind her. It pissed her off even more he didn’t smell remotely bad, when she and others around her at the gym usually reeked. His sweat wasn’t slightly repelling and her poor car door nearly fell off when she slammed it behind her, paying the price of her rage.
When she returned to the gym two days afterwards, Wednesday was almost relieved to see he wasn’t looking in her direction, busy helping a busty blond girl with her squats. She simply increased the volume of her music and started her warmup on the treadmill, ignoring his existence.
She caught him in one, quick glance, when she stepped off the treadmill sweaty and panting. His eyes hardened and he moved them back to the woman next to him, and Wednesday made a b line to the hip abduction machine. Just like the voluptuous blond, today was her leg day, which meant sooner or later she’d have to approach the weightlifting area. She intended to stall as long as she could.
The exercises she could do on machines alone ended sooner than she liked, and grabbed a bench and some weights. Pulling her equipment to the very corner of the room, she could see the blond hugging Tyler goodbye and leaving.
Wednesday placed her shoulders on the bench, her feet on the ground and a weight on her lower stomach, dipping her buttocks down near the floor and then up again, feeling the strain almost immediately. This one was excruciating after only a few reps, which was why it was her favorite.
By the time she finished her set, she was panting. She sat down to rest, and with her face no longer facing the ceiling, she saw him staring at her again.
Her next two sets were done with unimaginable speed, and she refused to wait too long before starting her lunges.
She could see him approaching from the corner of her eye, but she refused to acknowledge his presence. Only when she finished the set, and he practically waved a hand in front of her face, did she remove her headphones.
“What?”
“Sorry, I wanted to call your name, but then I realized I didn’t even know it,” he said apologetically. “Maybe you should take a longer rest period between each set, is all. Your muscles seem to be a little strained already.”
“I’m fine, thanks,” she replied shortly. “And it’s Wednesday.”
He tilted his head, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.
“My name.” She clarified with annoyance. She returned the music to her ears as he sighed and shrugged, taking a step back.
It was only when she started her squats (making sure to add more weight on top of what the blond was lifting), holding the bar behind her shoulders, that he approached her again. Her temper flared, quicker thanks to her aching muscles - she hoped he had a good reason to interrupt her in the middle of reps - and when he spoke, his words were muted by her headphones.
She tried to signal that she couldn’t hear him without stopping her movements, and he just freed one of her ears, stepping to her side and into her personal space.
“What?!” it was nearly a shout, drawing some looks in their direction. She put down the bar, removing the headphones completely. Her set was now ruined and she’d have to start it all over again.
“You’re outlifting,” he was insistent this time, his gaze stubborn. “I know how much you usually lift, and this is too much of an increase.”
“I’m okay,” she gritted out, “you stopped me just to disregard my abilities?”
“You could injure yourself if you keep going like that.” God, he was fucking unrelenting. “Why are you pushing yourself? I can see you’re in pain.”
“That’s none of your business,” she barked back, stepping closer to emphasize her words. “Stop. Bothering. Me.”
“Sorry, but no.” She nearly gasped at his brazen answer. He looked down on her, his jaw visibly clenching. “I won’t have you injured in my watch. Why are you sore? Did you do a proper warmup?”
At a loss for words, she found herself replying. “Yes,” she said defensively before hardening her tone. “I’m not an idiot.”
He ignored her spite. “And do you stretch after you’re done working out?”
Wednesday stared at him, racking her brain, thinking back and staying silent as it dawned on her that she, in fact, hadn't. Not once.
A little smile spread on his lips. “Aha,” he said, almost vindictively.
“Well, I’ll start now,” she said reluctantly, sounding like an angry teenager. “Thanks, I guess.”
“Do you know how?” he cocked his eyebrow.
She looked at him, right in the eyes, his gaze unwavering, until she finally surrendered, dropping her gaze to the rubber floor.
“I can show you.” He said, not unkindly.
She nodded in defeat.
He pulled back. “Finish your reps,” he said, “and then bring a mat. You don’t need any more exercises today.”
There was authority in his voice that made her skin tingle.
He sprawled at her side when she was done, demonstrating, and she followed along. “If you want to deepen them, you can try resistance bands,” he offered.
“Why,” she said breathlessly, her knee brought close to her chest as she laid on her back, the stretch painful and intense. She had no idea stretching could hurt so much. Going to the gym and tiring herself on the machines was her only regular source of joyful pain these days; she didn’t know stretches could offer the same pleasing sensations. “Am I not…?”
“It would make sense for you to be a little… stiff,” he said carefully. “If you’ve never stretched before. But you could improve your flexibility if you persist. I know you have the willpower for that.”
Huh. The first thing close to a compliment she ever received from him.
“Can I?” he gestured to her knee. Not fully understanding what he meant, she nodded.
He leaned down, successfully caging her between his arms, body and the floor. Her breath caught in her throat. His knees were planted on the sides of her, and he used his hand to angle her knee up, making her blurt an embarrassing gasp at the sharp pain.
“Breathe,” he said calmly.
“I’m breathing,” she huffed back.
“No, you’re not. You’re panting.” His eyes looked down on her demandingly. “Take a deep breath. Like you mean it.”
She inhaled reluctantly, and when she exhaled from her mouth he pressed her knee harder, higher, making her gasp again not from pain but from wonder.
“That a girl,” he smiled at her.
Heatwaves started to erupt around her body.
“Your muscles need oxygen,” he explained, still holding onto her. “Whenever you inhale, the exhale will help you deepen the stretch.” Her next breath proved that he was right. “See?” he said quietly. “Soon you’ll be able to hold it behind your head.” There was a playful smirk on his face. He slowly pulled back, easing her out of the stretch.
“Thank you,” she said with embarrassment, still trying to make sense of the way he was bending her body. It was almost shameful to realize how rude she was before. All this time, there was a new world of self inflicted, delicious torture, just at her fingertips, and she never knew of it.
Tyler offered her his hand to help her up. “You deserve some private workout sessions, you know.” He said after a moment. “It’s part of your membership plan.”
She looked at him. “I think I recall something like that,” she mused. “What are you suggesting,” she crossed her arms, “Tyler?”
“You could use some help with stretching, is all.” He said shamelessly. “It’s the only thing you really need guidance for, and it seems like our schedules match, anyway. You’re here whenever I work.”
So she wasn’t the only one to notice it.
“Okay,” she agreed, trying to sound as reluctant as she could. Meanwhile, he seemed genuinely happy when he smiled at her. “I plan to be here at around 6 tomorrow. In the morning,” she said, almost a warning.
“I’m working the morning shift,” he said with satisfaction. “See you there.”
*
Wednesday stood in front of the mirror in her room, nervous like she was going on a date.
Which was ridiculous, really, since the hot instructor from the gym wasn’t even her type, too golden and dimple-y to draw her attention. It was just because of his proximity that she got all breathy, the day before. And the stretch, of course.
Her nervousness had nothing to do with him, at all, she decided. It had everything to do with the fact that her gym clothes were all in the laundry, and she had to use her emergency pair of leggings, which was, horrifyingly -
“White?” he chuckled when he saw her, “really? Do you know how visible sweat is on white?”
“Good thing I’m not a drenched baboon like you,” she huffed, “and grey is worse, so really, you’re in no position to lecture me.” Her eyes skipped to his bulging biceps - no, not his biceps, but the underneath of his sleeves, where some sweat was visible.
Sweat, yes. Sleeves.
“If you say so,” he shrugged, flashing her a smug smile. “Go do your workout, and I’ll see you in the corner over there when you’re done.”
She did just that, trying not to check herself out in the mirror the whole time. The fabric was thick, so there was no way that it could become sheer. She tried to convince herself of that.
That day was an upper body day. She finished her workout with sore and tense muscles, dragging herself to where he was waiting.
“So stretches for your torso, shoulders and arms are slightly different.” He started. “Do you know what a downward dog is?”
She nodded no and he demonstrated. Her face became hot when she tried it, her ass up in the air like that, as he walked around her in a half circle like a predator. She could almost sense he was displeased.
“Am I not doing it right?” she asked after a while, moving back to sit on her knees on the mat.
“You are, I guess.” He said cautiously. “You’re just so stiff it’s painful to watch.”
“Wow, thanks,” she huffed.
“Don’t worry, that’s what we’re here for.” He said reassuringly. “Let’s try again. Try to really lower your torso this time.”
She did try, but it was seemingly not enough.
“Push your chest deeper towards the floor,” he instructed. Her legs were already shaking, but she still attempted to do what he said. His palm spread between her shoulder blades to push her and an embarrassing groan left her throat, making her burn with humiliation.
“Okay, let’s try something else. I don’t wanna hurt you too much.”
She cursed herself viciously.
“Get on your knees.” He said. He was situated in front of her, which left her entrapped: the mirror was behind her. He was holding onto her arms, extending them on the mattress to get her into position, pressing her chest to the floor (her head was right at his knees, his thighs her only view). It didn’t matter he was focused on her torso, though, because the moment he would look up, he’d see her arched like a fucking porn star, her ass sticking up and giving him a perfect view of -
Did his breath catch in his throat? Or did she imagine it?
His hand on her back only pushed her deeper into the stretch and she couldn’t look up, didn’t dare to.
“You feel it?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she blurted out.
“Good. Stay like this for a while. I’ll go get some water,” he said and slowly let go. She watched him leave, and only when his feet were out of sight she dared to look back at the mirror from between her legs.
Her blood froze in her veins when she did.
She was wet.
And just like he said, the white made it horribly visible.
The stain on her crotch was unmistakable. She wasn’t sweating anywhere else - the source of the wetness was clear.
She didn’t dare to leave and risk him saying something about it. She simply sat down and waited for him to come back, letting him show her a few more stretches, and not looking in his direction more than was absolutely necessary.
*
Wednesday’s alarm went off at 5 in the morning, and she dragged herself out of bed towards her closet. Grabbing a pair of (thankfully black) leggings, she went into the shower, trying not to ridicule herself for sneaking in an orgasm or two under the hot water.
She had another workout and stretching session scheduled with Tyler for tonight, and after the previous day, she didn’t know what to expect. She threw out her white leggings as soon as she got home yesterday. Today was a work day, which meant bringing her gym clothes with her and changing when she got there, and she just hoped for a normal, uneventful workout. Hopefully, she could keep her dignity intact.
Stuffing a training bra and the leggings into her bag, she headed out.
Only when she pulled the leggings on, standing in front of the full body mirror in the gym’s ladies room, did she realize her mistake.
The legging was see through, and she chose that specific day to wear her only patterned underwear, the tiny white flowers practically jumping out of the sheer black fabric.
No, there was no way she’d head out like this. The leggings were tight, mostly see through where her body curved, meaning around her thighs, hips and ass. Her calves were infuriatingly clad, the black down there much more opaque. Which left her underwear nearly public.
This could’ve been fixed, of course, if she had another pair of leggings, or another pair of panties.
She didn’t have either.
And so, Wednesday did the only thing she could do.
The gym was mostly empty by the time she walked inside. She spotted Tyler waiting for her in the same corner as yesterday. “Leg day today?” he asked her, and she nodded, climbing on the elliptical without giving him a second look. He, on the other hand, seemed unable to take his eyes off of her, a fact she insisted on ignoring. She rushed through her workout, half-assing the reps and skipping on rest between sets, knowing she would regret it later.
She could feel his stare drilling into her body. If he noticed her rush, he didn’t show it.
“Done,” she said less than an hour later, her chest heaving when she took off her headphones, walking towards him.
“Drink first, you went really hard today.” He rolled open a mat. An older man left the gym when she busied herself gulping an obscene amount of water, leaving her and Tyler all alone.
“Any muscles you want to particularly focus on today?” he asked.
She emptied her water bottle. She wasn’t prone to sweat, so she didn’t have to monitor her water intake as much as others - but it helped her cool down. Especially now, when the way his eyes wandered around her form made her hot all over.
“I think I’d like to try the stretch you showed me the other day,” she said carefully, “with the knee up.”
“On you back, then,” he instructed. She absolutely didn’t need to blush at that, and yet she did. She was still painfully aware of her wardrobe situation, swearing to purchase new leggings the moment she got home.
Tyler held her knee close to her chest, pressing it upwards and explaining to her the importance of her back remaining flat on the ground. “You can injure yourself if you bend up while holding your own leg, that’s why it’s best to use a resistance band to help you.” His lips twisted when he added, “or a friend.”
The way he was looking at her didn’t feel very friendly. He was practically pinning her down. He smelled like he just left the shower, and she almost lamented the fact she missed his post-workout scent.
“Put your knee on my shoulder.” He said suddenly, pressing closer to her body. One of his hands was holding onto her calf, the other planted near her head.
“I don’t know if I can,” she panted heavily. Her pulse was racing. He was so, so close. But him hovering above her, looking down at her face, meant he wasn’t able to eye her crotch area, a deal she was willing to make.
“I think you can.” He insisted, and with a huffed grunt, she hooked her leg onto his warm shoulder, feeling just how wide and firm it was under her stretched out limb -
“Breathe in.”
She complied.
“Out - “
She huffed out shakingly.
“Oh - my god - !” she nearly yelped when he held onto her ankle and pulled it up, straightening her leg.
“Too much?” he asked, not moving in the slightest.
“No, I can take it,” it was nearly a whimper.
He grinned down at her. He motioned her to breath, pressing her straight leg closer to her body, his own waist pressed into her pelvis.
And in her tormented, strained state - a state which, for an Addams, was pure bliss - she just couldn’t stop a small, unmistakable moan.
Her eyes widened with horror.
Oh, no -
It was too late to shut her eyes, he was looking right at her face, but he was also -
Panting.
She was the one being stretched, so why was he -
And then her next breath had her body expanding and brushing against his, and she realized.
His hardness was far too present as he pressed into her, the erect ridge prominent against her stomach.
“Other leg,” she blurted out, flustered.
He gently released her, not moving back. His breath was quick, shallow. When she lifted her other knee, he didn’t even ask before hooking it on his shoulder.
“Ready?” he said quietly. She nodded. “Deep breath.”
He sunk so low at her exhale, his chestnut curls nearly touched her forehead. She held back a whimper. Looking into her eyes, he grabbed her ankle, and when she nodded and filled her lungs with air, he lifted it up.
“Fuck - “ she gasped.
“You’re okay,” he muttered, his tone reassuring. He didn’t break eye contact. “Just breathe.”
“Tyler,” she whined, heat flooding her cheeks. The way he was pressed to her made her so wet, the seam of her leggings pressing right into her clit -
“Just a little more.” He cooed.
She closed her eyes, huffing shakingly.
“There you go.” He mumbled with appreciation. “Now we can stop.” He pulled back slowly, her eyes only opening when she could no longer feel his presence on top of her, leaving her flustered and untethered.
“Get on your knees.” He suddenly said.
Confused and flushed, she did as he commanded. He situated behind her, moving each knee apart, instructing her to straighten her arms and lower her chest.
“Feeling the stretch?” he asked. His voice was deeper than usual. She could feel his wide thighs hovering just shy of touching her from behind.
“Not really,” she answered, almost forgetting he asked her a question.
His hands grabbed her waist, lowering her hips and moving them backwards, and before she knew what was happening, a sharp ripping noise was heard.
And it came from her. The seams of her legging gave, tearing right at the crotch.
She made a horrifying little sound, doing the one thing she could to save herself: pressing back into him to hide her now exposed mound.
“Wednesday…” he started, his voice thick.
“Don’t move,” she pleaded. Her voice was high pitched and alarmed.
He lowered himself to his elbows, caging her in. Slowly, deliberately, he rolled his hips against her exposed pussy lips.
She bit her lip to stifle her whine, his hardness rubbing into her.
“You’re soaked,” he mumbled into her ear. His face was right next to hers, hovering over her shoulder. “All of that from me stretching you out?”
His words made her dizzy, his erection teasing her sensitive folds, her legs weak and shaking from the position he trapped her in. She turned her face to his, their mouths connecting before she had a chance to think.
His tongue was warm and confident as it slid into her mouth and she could no longer hold back her whines. His hands started roaming her body, groping her over and then under her top, her moan unmistakable when he found her nipple. The thin fabric of his gym shorts was rubbing into her, shaped after his girth.
“Turn around,” he said when he pulled back, and when she struggled to comply, his hands manipulated her body. She found herself on her back, hearing him groan when he looked down at her ripped leggings. “Fuck, hold on,” he grunted as he hooked his arms under her shoulders, only realizing what he meant when she felt him lifting her up, yelping when he stood with her in his hands.
He walked them to the closest machine, the chest press, carrying her like she weighed nothing. Without warning, he held her up and placed each of her knees on the handles, her legs spreading wide as a result - and her cunt placed right in front of his face.
His hands were the only thing holding her up in the air and she gasped when she felt him spreading her apart, even more than the handles, which already had her nearly spread-eagled.
“Feel the stretch yet?” he asked, without breaking eye contact, bringing his face to her pussy. With no warning he pushed two fingers into her, making her yelp. “How about now?”
“Oh - my god,” she whined out loud, holding onto his shoulders to keep upright, her legs shaking. “Tyler, f-fuck!”
His tongue latched into her upper folds and he started ravishing her, his fingers rocking back and forth into her. Her eyes rolled back almost immediately, panic rising in her when she realized just how close she was.
“W-wait,” she moaned, helpless in his strong grip, “I’m gonna cum, Tyler, wait - “
He crooked his fingers inside her, teasing the spongy spot repeatedly with his fingers, his forearm flexing - and then he sucked on her clit, looking up at her, and she had no hope of holding back, her juices shooting out of her and spraying his entire chest and arm.
Her orgasm left her weak and shaking, looking down at him with horror. “I’m - sorry,” she whispered the moment she could. “I tried - to warn you - “
“Oh,” it was a surprised, little sound, quickly accompanied by a devilish grin. “Oh, you’re a squirter, aren’t you?”
She nodded shamefully, her cheeks hot and still overcome by the aftershocks of her orgasm.
His arms scooped her down, pressing her wetness to his hard dick once more. “You ready for one more stretch?” he asked, pushing down his pants, making her gasp at the sight of him.
Her back met the wall, his elbows hooked under her knees. She was nearly bent in half, and looking down, she bit her lip with a moan. “Breathe in,” he taunted, his blunt head teasing her entrance.
“Oh god,” she choked out.
“...out,” he groaned as his head popped inside.
Her walls struggled with the stretch. She whimpered when he pushed deeper and deeper, dizzy when she looked down at his girth splitting her open. She couldn’t help but spasm and shudder, trapped between him and the wall, whining when he pulled back and then pushed inside again, making her take his entire cock.
“Deep,” she moaned out in a daze, his girth feeling huge as it bottomed out inside her. She was so impossibly tight around him, she didn’t even know if he’d be able to move.
“I know,” he cooed, “but you can take it, can’t you?”
She whined when he started to fuck her against the wall.
“Yes, of course you can. Look at you,” he grunted against her neck, making her turn her head.
Full body shivers erupted on her skin when she saw them in the mirror. She looked small and vulnerable between his big arms and wide shoulders, like a cornered prey. “Feel that stretch?” he panted in her ear, and she whimpered out a strained “yes”, holding onto his forearms as he bucked into her. “I’m gonna make sure your pussy remembers the shape of my cock.”
And he was right, she could feel her insides make room for him, clamping down on each of his movements and reshaping to let him in each time. When his thumb swiped past her clit, she moaned loudly and used the little strength she had to push his body back, allowing her to cum with a spray of fluid again.
“That a girl,” he groaned breathlessly, quickly pushing back inside her, giving her no time to adjust and turning them around. Holding onto her hips, he started slamming her onto his dick, making her gasp and whine.
“Fuck, Tyler, wait - “ she twitched from the overload of sensations. She was bent nearly in half, her muscles worn out and aching, her pussy puffy and sensitive.
“You’re too squirmy for your own good,” he groaned as he slowly got down to his knees, laying her on her back and putting her legs on his shoulders, fucking her roughly into another spurting orgasm, her wails loud and high pitched when she her juices shot out of her, soaking her ruined leggings.
His shirt was soaked too, and he removed it, his toned golden body only making her pleasure-addled mind spiral further. She couldn’t do a thing when he turned her around, holding her hips up and plunging back inside her.
“Knew you could arch that back,” he chuckled. She keened when the tip of him met her g spot, hitting it with every pass. “You’re bending so nice for me now.”
His pace started to build up, and soon, too soon, she could feel another release approaching, making her panic, her body exhausted and overstimulated.
“No, wait - “ she begged, “I can’t anymore,” she nearly sobbed, his thighs smacking into her ass with each thrust.
“Too bad,” he grunted, “I’m not done using you yet.”
His hand smacked her ass so strong she jumped and whined, the pain mixing in with her pleasure, when his hand fisted into her hair.
“Look up,” he ordered. She could barely keep her eyes open as it was, but he held her up by the hair, and the sight of them in the mirror made her shudder. “Look me in the eyes,” he said, softer this time, and she found the hazel in the reflection. “Last one,” he promised, his hand tightening on her ass. “Give me just one more, wet yourself on my cock.”
Her croak was pitiful and broken when she started to cum again, unable to push herself off of him to let her release spurt out - he held her tight and fucked her through it, extending her high. More and more fluids gushed out of her as she whined and keened, her orgasm stretching on and on, the clear juices pouring down and forming a puddle beneath her - the sight just made her spasm and spurt out more: he had her in a puddle of her own cum, stretched out and spent, her brain dripping out of her pussy.
His thrusts grew stronger and wilder until he finally reached his peak too, his release deep inside her making her jerk and twitch, squirting one final time.
For a long while, all they could do was catch their breaths. When she dared to look up into the mirror, he was staring at her with something akin to adoration. “You always squirt that much?” he asked when he noticed her look.
“I can’t - cum without squirting.” She rasped, hoarse from moaning. Her cheeks burned when she added, “but never in these amounts.”
“Huh.” A satisfied smile appeared on his face.
“I’ve had a lot to drink,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, sure.”
He helped her up, holding onto her with both arms when he noticed she was shaking. “Can you stand?” he asked with worry.
“Yeah,” she insisted, “it’s just - aftershocks. I get them sometimes.” She looked away to hide the lie.
He grabbed a rag and placed it on the floor, to absorb her - puddle. “I’ll walk you to your car,” he said, “make sure you get there okay.”
She was about to protest when she realized her legs were, in fact, still shaking, trembling like jelly. He offered her his sweatshirt, which dangled past her hips, to hide her torn leggings. She accepted it gratefully.
She had to lean on his arm all the way to the parking lot, pausing their slow walk once or twice to regain her balance.
“What protein do you usually eat after a workout?” he suddenly asked when they got to her car.
Wednesday stared at him. Her mind was still foggy, and she couldn’t stop her next words. “Are you asking me out to dinner?”
“More like asking you in,” he said in embarrassment. “I can cook something.”
“You cook?” she asked in surprise.
“Yes. Why, you don’t?”
“I usually just postmate dinner,” she admitted, “or, you know, a protein shake.”
“I have that too, at home, if that’s what you prefer,” he said. He looked at her expectantly.
Wednesday studied him for a moment. She almost expected him to laugh at her face, tell her it was a joke. “I hope that by offering me protein, you’re not referring to your semen,” she said bluntly.
“What - no!” he protested, “I truly meant dinner.” A coy smile spread on his face. “Oral sex can be our dessert, if you’d want.”
“Yeah, okay,” she agreed, opening the door to her car and sliding in with difficulty. When he didn’t move, she rolled down the window. “You need a ride?”
“I don’t think you can handle another one,” he smirked, “but yeah, thanks.”