Pushing Deep - Sammy's Story

   Samantha Spitzmen began her morning in much the same fashion she had
every day for about a long as she could remember.  She slipped and stumbled
out of bed and onto the carpet of her spacious bedroom with dull thud in a
burst of cheerful fervor.  Her leg somehow always managed to become tangled
in the silk sheets, and had tugged her backwards as she attempted hopping
from her king sized bed.  The fall and subsequent noise hadn't so much as
stirred a brow in Sammy's husband Steven, who had been lying next to her
with his head buried in two of their four white pillows.  He continued to
snore, a deep near guttural bellow of inhaled and exhaled air, and did not
churn or make the slightest motion as the covers slid away from him during
Sammy's fall.  He simply continued his foray of catching Z's, his deep
breaths making him resemble a bear in midst of hibernation.

   "Ouch!  Darn it" uttered Sammy as she pulled herself up and headed
towards her bathroom.

   It was a quarter to six in the morning, and her bright green eyes beamed
with a breed of glow that would have seemed inconceivable to most others
upon waking so early in the hours of the day.  To anyone unfamiliar with
the redhead, such energy at this hour without the assistance of caffeine
would have either been classified as wholly preposterous, or attributed to
the use of some otherworldly drug.  Samantha, "Sammy" to her friends and
family, strode to her bathroom in a spirited glide, stubbing her toe
however against the threshold of the bathroom door as she entered.

   "Ouch, dang it!" she said.

   She went about her daily routine of brushing her teeth and washing her
face, and dressing herself in a simple pair of thigh high shorts and a
plain white-t shirt that was fitted to her slender frame, but cut off just
above her belly-button.  What with it being so early in the morning, she
only lightly went through her short red hair in the mirror, and spent only
a minimal amount of time appraising herself in the mirror.

   Sammy was a modest girl when it came to her looks.  A modest girl though
Sammy was, she couldn't often help but feel a fair bit impressed by the
woman who composed her reflection.  Sammy was short, all of five feet and
an added three inches, and was considered to be the smallest amongst her
group of friends and family.  This fact never seemed to bother her much
however, as the counterbalance to her impish height came in spades when
analyzing the rest of her body.  Her big, bright green pupils shown like
twin jade jewels encased in the surrounding milk color of the rest her
eyes. They struck many as dazzling, being noted as almost catlike in
appearance when they were taken in with the image of her smallish facial
features.  She had tiny button nose and a shapely mouth that held ever so
slightly plumped lips that seemed to complete as well as water down her
complexion.  The sides of her lips curved at a slightest upward angle, a
facial feature said to hail from her Scottish ancestry, and what many in
her family jokingly called a "natural Glasgow smile".

   At twenty-six she maintained a facial appearance of a girl not a day
older than twenty or so.  This was often speculated to be the case upon
meeting those who were not privy to her actual age.  Her fiery red hair
hung in full wavy curls that hovered at the middle point of her neck when
she'd let it down.  In ways of body, Sammy Spitzmen did not have an ounce
of excess or unnecessary fat on her figure.  While many other women her age
often began to puff and fill out in the mid section and other areas, Sammy
maintained a lean, lithe, and curvy frame.  Well defined, yet strikingly
effeminate muscle laced the entirety of her body.  Her shoulders were sharp
and angular, and sculpted just enough that there was the slightest lift in
her deltoids, which linked to a set of slim, though even more defined arms.
Her torso was a slim pillar of white that shaped inward on her twenty-three
inch waist, just before it curved outwards towards her hips, which remained
full and curvaceous.  Strewn about Sammy's stomach was a series of tight
upper and lower abdominals that were punctuated with a full and sharp V
shape that started just below her pelvis, and traveled outwards.  Her legs
and thighs were even more impressive, as they were smooth and equally
defined.  Small lines along the meaty portions of her upper thighs could
visibly be seen when Sammy wore a skirt, shorts, or tight enough fitting
pants.  Her lower legs and ankles were sharp and straight, and enhanced the
look of her strong calves, which shifted into a heart shape of muscle if
one paid attention to her putting pressure on the area.

   While Sammy was trim, the more effeminate parts of her still were
visible and more than fairly bountiful.  Sammy had full round breasts.  She
was a solid C-cup that was just shy of a full D, which proved to be a bit
of an obstacle containing during her vigorous workouts, but one that she
was not so irksome that she allowed it to discourage from engaging in them.
They shifted upward slightly, and peaked at her matching pair of deep pink
nipples, which had always been incredibly sensitive for some reason.  It
was a bit of a contrast to the rest of her smallish features.

   While her sister Bobbie Sue was tall and long limbed, Sammy was rather
on the boney side when they were young.  It had shocked her somewhat when
she they had begun to grow and fill out (almost overnight it seemed) in her
later years.  The roundness and perky angle of them she found them to be
(at times) off putting compared to her frame.  The same situation applied
to Sammy's rear as well.  While not as large by the comparison to her
friend's posteriors - which were all shapely and sizable and very beautiful
as far as she was concerned - it carried a remarkable amount of cushion and
roundness as well.  It was a plump heart-shaped posterior that many
individuals in Coxville would have agreed was "athletically perfect if
petite".  Sammy's ass had grown in around the same time as her breasts had,
and it had baffled her much in the way when she noticed how much it
actually stuck out in outfits.  Not to the degree that Sammy's good friend
Bianca's ass had to be sure, but certain silk dresses, high cut shorts, and
tight fitting pair stretch pants greatly emphasized its shape.  Her
workouts hadn't trimmed it down so much as slightly elevate it, and shift
its softness into a slightly more muscular mass.  All the same, she still
found it to be very impressive, and it was one of the parts of her that
Steve would quite often enjoy (when he was up for it that is).  He wouldn't
hesitate to give it a playful pinch or smack simply to see the bit of
softness it did have jiggle and the subsequent giggle that would squeak out
of Sammy as a result.

   Sammy's fruits of physical diligence had proven to be well worth the
amounts of sweat and she'd shed daily, with an added benefit - she later
discovered - of a natural glow that beamed from her skin in a light sheen.
Her skin was a shade of white meshed with healthy pinkish tones that would
always appear to be amplified after a particularly intense workout, which
then cooled to an amber-like hue after she got out of a shower.  Heavy
emphasis on personal hygiene and diet had made her skin appear to be made
of fine marble.  Many men (and quite a few women) in town had gone so far
as to say that Sammy had a perfect body.  And while the gorgeous little
redhead was taught at a very young age that modesty was the greatest means
to convey ones assets, indeed, all things considered, Sammy considered
herself to be one sweet looking number if she didn't say so on her own
behalf.  So much that it almost offset how much of klutz she was.

   After giving herself one last approving glance to her stomach and hips,
she smiled at her reflection, and headed from her bedroom, and downstairs
into the kitchen.  Not before however slipping onto her behind half way
down the steps.

   "Ow!" she squeaked as she landed on the step.

   When she got to her wide open kitchen however, her clumsiness altogether
vanished.  Immediately she began cooking, preparing the breakfast that her
beloved husband Steve would undoubtedly consume with a ravenous and
unrelenting pace after waking up.  She knew him well enough by now that
while the noises of her activities wouldn't be the slightest bit effective
in stirring him from deep bear-like slumber, the robust smell of bacon,
eggs, and homemade waffles would most definitely awaken him quicker than
smelling salts ever could.  In stark contrast to her accident prone nature,
Sammy moved about the kitchen with a grace that almost seemed to be out of
a long practiced ballet, all the while humming to herself as she battered,
cracked, flipped, poured, and maneuvered around the wide open space
kitchen. The smell of the meat cooking, sure enough, summoned Steve within
moments.  For the strangest of reasons - ones to which not even Sammy had
the foggiest clue- her clumsiness seemed to dissipate when she was involved
in two things: the first being any and all household chores that engaged
in.

   She figured it must have been some sort of trigger in her brain that
flipped whenever she was in the process of cooking or cleaning that caused
her turn instantly from being all thumbs and left feet as her grandmother
would say, to a wafting, swaying being of grace and precision.  Of all the
scuffs, scrapes, bumps, and bruises Sammy had accumulated over the years,
not one was acquired while she was in the process of cleaning a room, or
creating a meal.  Not a single one.

   Steve Spitzmen, Sammy's husband of a solid year now, lumbered down the
steps soon after Sammy neared the final stages of her cooking.  Steve was a
broad man, tall and barrel chested, with a tuft of straight strawberry
blonde hair that was thinning in certain areas.  Steve had a bit of a gut,
which Sammy didn't find particularly appealing, but did not find it
appalling to the degree she felt it merited voicing protest.  As he ended
his path down the stairs he stretched and yawned in his white silk morning
robe, both his big hairy arms raised in a V.

   "Mornin sugar" formed from Steve's yawn as he leaned in over Sammy's
shoulder.  "How's my little rosebud doin this morning?", he nuzzled her
with his lips, his chin hairs brushing against Sammy's cheek and neck and
making her giggle.

   "Steeeve, stop it that tickles", Sammy giggled, her heavy southern
accent seeping out in a falsetto pitch.

   "I know, I just like doin it to hear you make that noise."

   Steve playfully smacked her bottom and it wobbled accordingly.

   "I didn't hear you come home last night", Sammy said.

   "Yeah, we were at the site way longer than expected.  Swear the god
they're tryin to work us to the bone on this one.

   "How'd your book thing go last night?"

   Sammy had been in mid flip of turning an egg sunny side up when she
heard Steve's question, and hearing it had caused her to fumble the egg
sloppily onto the skillet, folding it into a mess of yellow and white. 
Blunders like that never occurred while Sammy cooked, ever.

   "Uh-it was..." the memory causing the rest of whatever she was about to
say to trail off into some obscure mumble.

   Amazin, totally incredible, the most intense night of my life, she
thought in rapid succession.  None of those words would have been
appropriate to describe her feelings on what she had taken part of the
previous night at Jenny Summer's house, and even less appropriate to say to
her husband.  Steve, who was (often enough) attentative to what she had to
say would want to know all about why her verdict for the night was such a
fond one.  Why was it so awe inspiring, incredible, and so thoroughly
intense?  Sammy knew she most certainly couldn't explain it, much less go
into any semblance of detail.  Most of what had occurred a meager handful
of hours ago she still barely believed herself.  The sights, sounds,
tastes, and so forth that filled and overloaded her senses that night
existed in Sammy's mind now as a distant, though incredibly vivid dream. 
She could hardly explain it herself, let alone make sense of how she
herself behaved.

   "Sugar?" came Steve's voice from a seemingly far distance from Sammy's
perspective.

   "It was...great" she said.

   Great was the perfect word to use.  Not too grandiose to merit further
description or explanation, and not too watered down to allude of anything
being kept from him, a perfect middle ground that would undoubtedly leave
Steve satisfied.  Sammy had then gotten back into the rhythm of preparing
Steve his breakfast.  She assembled the last few pieces of the meal, poured
him a tall glass of orange juice (no pulp of course), placed the piece of
wheat toast on the plate, and placed it on the kitchen table in one
seamlessly elegant motion.

   "Enjoy", she said with a smile.

   Steve immediately dug into the plate without a word, filling his face
with a spoon full of egg.  Still chewing Steve then said,

   "Thanks babe, perfect as always", a goop of egg flying from his mouth
with the word babe.

   Sammy just eyed him, adoringly, though she couldn't shake the slightest
bit of annoyance towards his table manners.  Steve was rather tactless when
it came to certain things, and his attempt to check them in public or in
the presence of others was a lax one at best.  Sammy had always figured
this was simply a part of what it meant to be married, learning to accept
and manage the flaws found in the person you've promised to share the rest
of your life with.  She had certainly put forth a strong effort to check
her own bad habits in his presence, and it wasn't too much of a stretch to
say that she had done a more than decent job of containing them.  However,
on the polar end it seemed her efforts went, for the most part, unnoticed
by Steve.  He'd give affection when it seemed appropriate, gave mention to
and thanks when Sammy labored for him, but, it seemed with an increasing
regularity, that Steve's appreciation seemed to peak at the bare minimum.
Sammy knew it was an absurd idea to be so bent out of shape over so small a
gesture as food falling from one's mouth while eating, but still...a part
of Sammy, for the briefest of moments, really really soaked in the urge of
just then wanting to slap Steve right in the back of the head, and tell
him, in the same tone and pitch that her mother used to use when scolding
her as a child,

   Only piglets and poppers talk with their mouths full!

   However, despite this spark of inner frustration, Sammy pushed the
feeling down, and continued watching her husband eat in silence.

   "Where's your plate?" Steve asked.  "Aren't you eating too?"

   "No dear, I had a protein bar and a glass of OJ earlier.  You know I
don't like to take in too many calories in the morning before I go to the
gym."

   Steve nodded his head up and down as if remembering, but remained silent
and kept chewing, fearing she'd bring up (again) a desire for him to join
her the next time she went

   "Right..." he eventually said.

   A moment of silence, and Sammy continued to watch him eat from across
the table.

   "Any chance you'll get off work early tonight?" she asked in attempt to
break the awkward silence.

   In response Steve sighed.

   "Doubt it, they've been workin us harder than a hundred black mules
fresh outta Mexico.  And what with Jackson filling in right now, things
have slowed down to near molasses speed."

   "Jackson?" Sammy asked, keeping the tempo of conversation.

   "Yeah, he's acting as foreman while Smith is out with a busted leg.  I
told you this a couple weeks ago."

   "Ah, right" Sammy lied, not remembering him saying anything at all
during the few conversations they'd actually had time to have over the last
month or so.

   "I mean, don't get me wrong, he's a good worker, just..."

   "Just what?" Sammy asked curiously.

   "He's black, so you know...he moves slower than most of us would like."

   Sammy remained silent, and after another bite of toast and hefty swig of
orange juice Steve continued.

   "I mean, don't get me wrong, that's not because I think he's any less
smart than anyone on the crew or anything.  It's just that the guy takes
way too much time organizing and reorganizing everything.  Every single
detail he goes over with a fine comb.  I know he's got a lot riding on this
job, lord knows we all do, but jeez, when is careful too careful you know?

   Sammy just listened, nodding her head.

   Steve finished the last few bites of his meal and washed it down with
the remaining ounce of his orange juice.

   "It's like he's trying to be on his best behavior to impress everyone.
Like the guy has something to prove.  It's making everything move at less
than half speed.  Gets on your nerves after a while's all I'm sayin."

   Sammy continued to nod, but thought critically to herself.  Well, did
you stop to think that maybe Jackson is just being sure he doesn't repeat
the mistake your other boss made before he broke his leg?  She kept this
thought buried however, not wanting to rock the boat or start conflict over
something so trivial so early in the day.  Sammy just smiled, and after
Steve had finally finished eating she cleared the plate and its remains off
the table.  She washed the dishes and continued her morning cleaning
routine, while Steve showered and dressed.  Twenty minutes later he
strolled downstairs in his workmen's clothes, and kissed his lovely
redheaded wife as she handed him a neatly arranged lunch inside a small
handheld cooler.  As Steve walked through the door, he gave Sammy his
signature wink and reminder that he'd be home late.  Standing at the open
front door of their two story suburban home, Sammy watched Steve as he
climbed into his truck, and marked his departure with a goodbye wave.  This
had been the steady flow of their relationship for the past month.  A
larger version of playing house that Sammy had, for a time, thought to be
fun.

   As Sammy went back inside and continued what chores she now had left,
she noticed a strange emptiness.  The large, wide open rooms and corridors
of their home hinted of no life, aside from the fainting scratching and
thin bumping noises as she moved furniture and wiped dirt from furnishings.
All the while Sammy couldn't help but feel lately as though, despite having
what to many of her family and peers considered to be the perfect life,
there was something missing.  A deep seeded chore that had yet to be
completed.

   Is that why I did it?  Sammy asked herself as she cleaned.  Is that why
I .Within an hour the energetic redhead had gone from top to bottom of her
two story house.  She'd cleaned the kitchen, bedroom, living room, dinning
room, hallways, and both bathrooms at a speed that almost would seem
superhuman to casual observer.  Sammy had gone through the entire house
without even conveying so much as a hefty sigh to portray fatigue.  The
house was left sparkling, and without even a speck of dirt or grime
showing. It was after surveying the immaculate household that Sammy then
spoke to herself.

   "Alright...now for the real work" she said, a sudden gleam in her eyes
showing from anticipation.



   In exactly two minutes Sammy had stripped down from her morning outfit,
and put on in its place a pair of thick white running socks, a pair of
black and red trainers, a pair of tight fitting black spandex shorts that
showed the entire structure and layout of her hips and taught ass.  The
final pieces were her fitted black sports bra that she wore under a tight
white t shirt that was cut off at the stomach to show her sculpted abs.  On
the shirt in bold black lettering were the words "push it" etched proudly
on the chest area, which were pursued up a fair bit from Sammy's perky
breasts.  Sammy grabbed her signature cotton sweat headband, and clasped it
onto with a light snap.  She grabbed her workout bag, which contained a
large and small towel, a book, and a large bottle of ice cold water from
the refrigerator, and in another second was out the door and into her car,
not before however taking a near tumble down the small set of stairs on her
front door.

   "Ouch!  Darn it!" yelped Sammy as she stumbled down the final two steps
after her foot somehow managed to brush incorrectly on the first, throwing
off her balance and almost causing trip into the driveway face first.

   After she collected herself, she climbed into her car, started the
engine, and pulled out of the driveway, Sammy had already pushed the
ominous thoughts out of her entirely, and was only focused, excited, and
mentally prepared for the task that was ahead.

   ...



   The Olympian Gym was a ten minute drive from Sammy's house.  Sammy had
sang aloud the whole way to the country tunes of the Dixie Chicks that had
been playing on her Ipod, which was set up the sound system of the car. 
After arriving at the gym, a huge establishment located in the most
expensive part of Coxville, she walked in through the large glass double
doors with a cold blast from the air conditioning.  The gym was all black
and white marble, with white and silver walls, all smooth edges and open
space.  The main lobby held several cushy couches, fit with health
magazines and brochures found on the glass table.  To the right of the
lobby was the front reception desk, which was manned by a tall, blonde and
skinny young man whom Sammy knew as Dale Walton.  Upon noticing her
arrival, Dale immediately smiled as Sammy walked through the door.

   "Mornin Dale", said Sammy with her signature pearly white smile and
thick southern drawl.

   "H-Hey Mrs.  Spitzmen" replied Dale, doing his best to keep his
composure, despite the increasing redness in his face totally giving him
away.  Sammy sighed.

   "How many times am I gonna have to tell you Dale, call me Sammy.  Mrs.
Spitzmen makes me sound like I belong in that dang water aerobics class for
the old folks."

   "Sorry Mrs-I mean, Sammy."

   Coming out of Dale's mouth the name sounded odd, far too forced
impersonal, even though it had only been a small pinch of years since he
had called her as such.

   "Just messin ya about Dale, relax.  Jeez, you never used to be this much
of a stiff when I'd baby sit you."

   Face still blushing, Dale shook his head.

   "I know.  It's just that I'm still considered the new guy here.  The
boss is really pushing the idea of us greeting everyone that comes in all,
you know?  Bein professional but extra friendly to all the members."

   That and the fact I can't get over how hot you always look in your
workout clothes, Dale thought.

   "I get ya.  Well relax, you're doing just fine", Sammy said, reaching a
hand over the counter and placing it gently on Dale's shoulder.

   The touch made Dale feel like he was on the verge of melting.  For the
longest time, as far back as Dale could remember, Sammy Spitzmen had always
been the living definition of beauty, vibrant health, and an almost
palpable sexual energy.  She was only about five years his senior, but in
his eyes she might as well have been an elder goddess in front of his
feeble twenty-one years.  So much that he simply couldn't keep a straight
face or maintain his composure when in her presence.  And in the off chance
she gave him any sort of kindly caress or made any form of playful physical
contact, he felt his entire body tense and then relax in ecstasy in what
were near -sometimes full on- orgasms.  He couldn't imagine what it must
have felt like to be her husband Steve - known more commonly in Dale's mind
as that unbelievably lucky prick - and to have the right to touch her back,
kiss her luscious pouty lips, explore her flawlessly toned body, and
indulge in other such erotic endeavors which Dale dared not imagine out of
mercy of keeping his pants clean.

   The moment soon passed however when Sammy abruptly pulled her hand away
to reach for the falling sign in sheet that Sammy had knocked over with her
bag.

   "Oh my gosh!" Sammy squealed as she kneeled over and picked at the
falling pieces of paper.

   Dale rushed from around the counter and kneeled down next to her to help
clear the mess.

   "I'm soooo sorry about that Dale" Sammy said.  "My grandma always says
I'm all thumbs and left feet."

   "Oh it's no problem Sammy" said Dale dismissively, forcing himself to
leave out the Mrs.

   Dale was well aware of Sammy's clumsiness, and had always actually found
it to be a rather adorable trait in the older woman.  Her bumbling ways to
him held a sort of abstract majesty in his eyes, a breed of innocence that
none of the other girls he knew in town seemed to possess.  After they
completed gathering the pieces of paper, they both rose.

   "Dang Dale", Sammy said with a slight start.

   "You grow another couple inches or what?"

   "Wha-What?"

   "You got taller didn't you?"

   "Oh...right", stammered Dale, pushing down how sexually loaded Sammy's
question had sounded coming from her lips.  He laughed nervously.

   "Nah...not really".

   Not unless you're talking about what's in my pants, he then thought.

   "No, I think you did.  You're what, 6'1" now?" She said, standing closer
to him and comparing their height.

   Sammy being so close to the young man, feeling her the outline traces of
her body brushing lightly against his caused him to stiffen and tense.

   "6'1 and 1/2" corrected Dale.

   "Wow...really?  Dang, I remember when you barely came up to my waist. 
You must have the girls fighting over you left and right."

   Dale's face went another shade of red.

   "Ha-ha, nah." He said coyly.

   "My mama always says modesty's the best way to show off your best sides,
but come on.  Tall good lookin fella like you, they must be lining up."

   Sammy giggled that sweet, high pitched signature laugh of hers and she
playfully punched at his stomach.

   "Well..." Dale then said, trying to maintain some semblance confidence
in front of the redhead.  He knew confidence went a long way with women,
especially sexy ones like Sammy.

   "I reckon there's maybe one or two girls at school that's slid me a
letter in class here and there."

   "Well there you go then, I knew it."

   "I mean, it's nothing serious.  Besides, I'm not really that interested
in any of the girls at my school."

   "Really?" said Sammy, her green eyes widening a bit with curiosity. 
"Why's that?"

   Dale timidly placed a hand behind his trimmed blonde head, his ocean
blue eyes forcing themselves to maintain eye contact with her green ones.
Dale had always found it difficult to look Sammy straight on, her green
eyes being entirely too bright and entrancing for him to face directly.

   "Well...I'm more into...older girls", he said, his blush betraying his
attempt to water down the statement.

   "Oh really?" said Sammy with a hint of genuine wonder.

   "Yeah..." said Dale nervously.

   Dale didn't know how to proceed.  He wanted to add older, sexier, more
elegant girls like you Sammy Spitzmen, but his mouth and cautious nature
would not allow him to be so bold.  He was just about to revert to another
plan of attack, the much safer yeah, older girls like you always seemed way
more attractive to me line, however the words died on his lips the moment
he heard someone behind Sammy yell.

   "Yo Slim D!" came deep silky voice from far end of the gym lobby.

   Dale was slapped out of his trance, and he looked up and ahead at the
same time that Sammy turned her back to him and towards the source of the
intruding voice.  Seven feet ahead of them in the lobby stood a tall, deep
brown skinned black man of a solid 6'4".  He was wearing a very tight
fitting plain white t shirt and an equally tight pair of vintage 1970s
style basketball shorts.  The shorts cut off at the upper leg, exposing the
man's long and immaculately muscled legs from a little higher than the half
way point.  He wore high white socks that had a dark blue stripe running
down the sides, and a pair of black and white trainers that were marked by
a signature wing design etched onto the back portion of the heel.  The man
was lean, but from head to toe was fitted with nothing but hardened muscle.
His deep brown complexion granted an additional bit of gloss, a healthy
natural glow that reflected from his nearly hairless physique.  He had
close cut jet black hair that lined his perfectly sculptured head, and
setup well his strong jaw line and powerfully masculine facial features. 
His face was clean shaven, and age wise he appeared to be anywhere in his
mid to late twenties, though he could have been a bit younger.

   "Have you seen Mr.  Dupree come in today?" boomed the black man from
across the lobby hall.  He didn't have any hint of a southern accent, his
inflections on particular syllables holding more of a Californian lilt. 
"He was supposed to be here round twenty minutes ago for his session."

   "Ye-yeah" came Dale nervously.  "He actually called in and said he
couldn't make it today, had a dentist's appointment or something like
that."

   "Oh" came the black man.  "Oh well, guess I'll get an extra hour to
myself to lift then.  Ha-ha".

   The black man laughed, glad to be free of his duties.  He then turned
and began to walk off in the opposite direction to the other side of the
gym, towards the treadmill and free weights zone.  Sammy's presence wasn't
overlooked by the tall ebony skinned male however.  Not in the slightest.
As he turned, his deep brown eyes stopped and appraised her thoroughly as
she stood there silent in the gym lobby.  She stared back at him almost
with as much fascination as he did to her, like a surprised doe in the face
of an oncoming truck, and the two of them spent a long silent moment frozen
in eye contact.

   This mutual exchange was not overlooked by Dale, who had lowered his
head to what would have been Sammy's line of sight and immediately tapped
her on the shoulder.  Sammy didn't respond to the first tap, and Dale had
to repeat the motion several more times, each tap with increasing pressure
until she finally shook her head upon feeling Dale's hand on her skin,
jumping slightly before coming back to her senses.  She turned back to face
the tall lanky blonde.

   "So..." Dale began, unsure of how to continue, but definitely wanting to
move passed what he thought he just saw in Sammy's eyes.  "You planning on
living in here or what?  You're in here about twice a day now-"

   "Dale..." Sammy interrupted.  "Who was that?"

   Dale gritted his teeth behind a tightly closed mouth.

   "Who?" he asked with an obvious bit of sarcasm and a pinch of bitterness
in his tone.  He let a second or two go by, letting Sammy stew for a moment
in waiting for his answer.  "Oh, that's just Dwayne.  He's some new
hot-shot trainer from out of town, moved here about a week ago."

   "Really?" said Sammy with a hint of genuine wonder on her face.  Her
eyebrows lifted.  "I certainly haven't seen him around here before."

   "Yeah", said Dale, "That's what pretty much everyone has been saying. 
Kind of came as a shock to folks when he first got here."

   "I'll bet", said Sammy, not catching the open venom packaged in Dale's
previous comment.

   Despite Dale's deep shade of sour resentment towards Sammy's sudden
(frankly odd) interest in the black man, he was grateful the redhead hadn't
asked him the meaning behind him referring to Dale as "Slim D".  Explaining
the nickname would have required him to go into the highly embarrassing,
totally damning yarn of how the following week, while he and a number of
other gym patrons had been dressing in the men's locker room after a
rigorous game of basketball, several of the men had made a reference to
Dale's penis size as she stripped out of his shorts.  While considered to
be the normal size in length (perhaps a bit longer than average at more
than six inches), Dale's penis was noted as being particularly thin in
girth.  Being equivalent perhaps to a few rolls of dimes clumped together
by a rubber band.  Dwayne, along with one of his friends (another black
male) had taken note of this, and had proceeded to chide and roast the
young blond.  Advising him never to attempt having a go with the mechanical
penis sharpeners.

   The ordeal ultimately led to Dale being dubbed "Slim-D" by the men, and
with Dale holding a palpable hatred for the black man ever since.  This
hatred was only fueled with the added jealousy which spawned from spying a
glimpse of Dwayne's own member, which was (by Dale's silent memory) so
massive that Dale had attempted to convince himself for days after that the
image was merely some trick of the light, or confabulation of his already
rattled self-esteem.  All the same, it had caused Dale to despise Dwayne,
and he'd not made it a point to engage in basketball or kindly banter with
the negro ever since.

   "And between us", started Dale, leaning in closer to Sammy and holding
up the back of his hand to near his mouth like a barricade, "that was the
real reason Mr.  Dupree didn't show up today.  Said that he wasn't gonna
have a muscle bound nigger tellin him what to do during his workout."

   To that Sammy didn't react, for she didn't quite know how to honestly.
Growing up in Coxville, in the further area of the suburbs no less, she had
always been taught to stay away from the people of color, or at the very
least to be as brief and taciturn with them as possible.  Sammy felt no
inner malice towards blacks, or anyone really for that matter.  She'd grown
up around them her entire life, and had found it difficult to carry the
seemingly boundless torch of malice that her family and many of her friends
appeared to have towards them.  Outward animosity and genuine hate towards
others never held any real significance to the bubbly redhead, yet she
ultimately felt that in order to keep her family and friends happy and
approving of her, she'd heed their counsel and stay clear of them, assuming
that her elders knew better.  On some unconscious level however, she
supposed she could understand a small portion of their logic in the sheer
physical response she herself often got from being around blacks.  When in
their company, passing them on the street, or being in any place where they
were near, she'd always felt a faint alertness overtake her body.  An
automatic reaction similar to the fight or flight response, or -by Sammy's
understanding- the surge of adrenaline one gets before an intense workout,
a slight pang of nervousness.  Because of this feeling, this faint
apprehension, Sammy had steered clear of those of the darker caste.

   That was back then however, back before she'd gained a deeper...insight
on black people, black men to be precise.  Sammy's good friend Jenny
Summers had showed her something the previous week, something incredible.
It was an odd chain of events that Sammy still didn't altogether comprehend
the details of, but remembered vividly and recalled that it ultimately had
led to what must have been the most incredible night of the young redhead's
life.  She'd learned that Jenny Summers, one of her best friends and elder
sister figure, a married mother, and fellow member of their town book club,
had been having herself an affair with -from what she described- a fair
number of other men in town.  Not even just men she discovered, but black
men.  The revelation had completely astounded them all to say the least.

   Sammy and the other girls had seen the proof for themselves in a video
that somehow found its way into Jenny's DVD player during the following
week's book club meeting, instead of the period piece film that was
supposed to be viewed that night.  Words couldn't describe Sammy's verdict
on the scene.  It had been the most shocking, paralyzing, scandalous,
sensual, and sexually aggressive thing she'd ever seen.  It winded her,
leaving her speechless (or as speechless as Sammy would ever be), like
watching a lion chase down a gazelle in the wild, or seeing a lavish
fireworks display for the first time.  The memory of it had sent pangs of
adrenaline down her neck and to the other regions of her body, very similar
to the ones she'd experience before going to the gym she oddly understood.

   "Well..." Sammy began, pushing down the thought and collecting herself
once again.  "His loss I guess.  Guy looks like he could carry bull on his
back like it was nothing." Sammy decided to play off her own initial
appraisal of Dwayne, though the effect he had on her could still be felt
slightly between her legs.

   "Meh steroids most likely", Dale shrugged.

   "Nah...I don't think so, he didn't have any of the signs."

   "Signs, what signs?" replied Dale.

   "Signs that he's using steroids.  You know, bad acne, jitters, uneven
muscle mass, overly sweaty, that kind of stuff."

   "Oh come on, how would you know, you're not a doctor."

   "No, I'm not, but I read a lot of interesting stuff in my health
magazines.  He didn't show any of the signs I came across, and his muscle
seemed all natural."

   Dale just stood there for a moment, slack jawed without a response.

   "Yeah well... I work with him directly, and let me tell ya, he's not
THAT strong.  I mean...yeah the guy does lift some pretty serious iron from
time to time, and he does have the gym record for most sit ups in five
minutes, and he did kind of lap me twice the other day on the
track...and...", Dale trailed off, not wanting to damn himself any further.


   "Where's he from?" asked Sammy.

   "Somewhere in California I reckon.  Says he was some sort of fighter
before he moved here.  You know, that MMA stuff."

   "Where those guys kick and punch each other upside the head and roll
around on the ground?" asked Sammy.

   "Yeah...something like that." Sniffed Dale.  He really didn't like
Sammy's interest in Dwayne.  "Looks pretty gay if you ask me, but hey,
different strokes for different folks."

   "Does he have any openings?  I've actually been looking for a new
trainer to give me a few pointers."

   "Pointers?!" came Dale with a start.

   "Have you looked in a mirror lately Sammy, you're flawless.  And you're
here so often most the members think you're a dang trainer.  What could you
possibly have to learn from him?" The disdain in Dale's voice now painfully
obvious in his tone.

   "Oh, you never know Dale", said Sammy.  "A real professional is always
good for teaching someone something new."

   And with that, Sammy turned away and headed for the treadmill and weight
lifting zone.

   "Anyhow, I'll see ya later Dale.  Tell your mom and dad I said hi next
time you see them."

   "Yeah...see ya later Sammy", came Dale.

   A look of confusion and stark disappointed crossed Dale's face as he
watched her walk away, his eyes following the rhythmic rocking of her
shapely hips and firm ass with each step, before falling to the meager bump
of his erection as it frustratingly brushed against the inside of his
pants. Watching the display made him almost instantly forget the emotional
pang of anger that he felt whenever he thought of his nickname "Slim-D".

   ...

   Sammy's workout generally lasted for about three hours give or take. 
Ten to fifteen minutes were dedicated to a thorough stretch and warming of
the limbs.  Another ten to fifteen minutes were spent on some light yoga
stretches she'd learned from her friend Anya to further prepare herself. 
She took her time, extending and curling her body in the seated twist,
lifting and pulling her lower back in the forwards and backwards-bend
position, sun salutations, and ending with a moderate stint of upward and
downward dog, all the while engaging in deep controlled breaths while
keeping her core tight and centered.  Mondays were aimed at her upper body,
so Sammy would then spend the first hour doing light but continuous reps on
her shoulders, arms, upper and lower back, before going into a solid hour
of intense cardio on the treadmill, before moving on to a solid twenty to
thirty minutes on the stationary bike, and lastly cooling herself down with
a thoroughly post workout stretch.

   She'd sweat, pant, inhale, exhale and push her body to its limit and
then go a bit more for good measure.  Shooting to top the number of reps
from her previous workout, but not rushing herself to the point they threw
off her form of made it sloppy.  Her face and body gradually took on a deep
shade of pink as her temperature rose and the blood inside her pumped
through her, keeping her going as she pressed the furthest boundaries of
her physical limits.  When the bulk of the exercises were over, she'd
exhale with satisfaction, an almost instant natural high attained from her
labors.

   The second thing Sammy's natural clumsiness seemed to fall dormant for
-strangely- was when she was in the midst of physical activity.  Not Sammy,
nor her family and friends could ever make any real sense of the nature of
it.  While Sammy was, as her grandmother worded all thumbs and left feet
ninety percent of the time for almost every other task, when physically in
motion with sports, weight lifting, or any other intense physical effort,
Sammy was precision and grace on two legs.  Her form and endurance went to
such a degree that many of the gyms patrons often came to the conclusion
that she was either a professional trainer, or a well versed professional
athlete who was in training for some grand event.  Many of the men would
stagger and stumble on their treadmills, lose the footing on their
stationary bikes, and forget the number and form of their rep entirely
whilst enjoying the show of her heavy breaths and motions and the
subsequent effect they'd have on her chest as she heaved in and out.

   They'd gaze at the perfect curves of her body as they stretched and
flexed with each squat, dip, lunge, and hip lift.  Many of the women
present would look on in venomous jealously at her effeminate grace as she
moved to and fro in perfect form, all of them taking mental notes whilst
trying to mimic her motions.  Sammy's friend Ivana Swallows would often
join her at the Olympian, and had ultimately decided following Sammy's lead
and mimicking her workout regimen and motions beat any sort of exercise
program that was offered in Coxville.

   So, it struck many of the regulars in attendance as quite a shock when
they saw the fit, curvy, picturesque redhead tumble leg over leg onto her
knees and off the platform of the treadmill at a near sprinting speed with
a loud thwack and squeak of shoe sole upon rotating rubber.  She slid and
flew back abruptly as the portion of the machine made for walking and
running hurled her backwards and off onto the cold hard floor.

   "Ouch!" She yelped after landing flat on her behind.  "Dang it!"

   Sammy could hardly believe it herself.  She'd fallen like a total klutz
near a dozen times this morning before and after cleaning the house, that
was commonplace for her, but never had she fallen off of the treadmill,
ever.  Her confusion was soon quashed however, considering her focus hadn't
entirely been on her breathing, pace, or running direction, but had in fact
been placed on...other areas in the gym.  Her lack of focus hadn't even
been realized until she felt the abrupt jerk of her right leg as stopped on
the hard unmoving surface of the black running track of the machine.

   Oh my goodness, Sammy thought to herself.  I can't believe I just fell
off the treadmill.  I never do that.

   Everyone in the gym abruptly stopped whatever they were doing to look at
the fallen redhead, her sitting there flat on her bottom, both legs up and
bent at the knee in front her, a wholly confused and shocked look painted
on her reddened face.

   I'm so embarrassed, she thought.  So much that for a brief moment she
considered getting up and racing out of the room and fleeing into one of
the nearby bathroom stalls.  Sammy didn't do that however.  She instead
looked down at her chest, at the phrase push it in bold etched upside down
in bold on the tight cotton fabric.  To most people it was simply a t-shirt
with two words that -to some inclined to such thoughts- would perhaps carry
a bit of innuendo.  To Sammy however, it much worlds more.  To her these
two simple words encompassed her entire outlook on persistence, and
enduring through the most seemingly insurmountable obstacles.  It drove her
to push far past the threshold where everyone else would collapse in defeat
and exhaustion.  Sammy Spitzmen was many things, but a quicker, she was
not. And running the entire diatribe through her head, the words and their
meaning burning fresh in her mind, she rose to her feet after taking two
more long deep breaths.

   "Oh my god, Sammy are you alright?" came a voice from behind her.

   Sammy turned to see Dale racing up behind her towel, water, and cell
phone in hand as if ready to call 911.

   "Oh yeah, I'm fine Dale."

   "Oh my god, oh my god, are you sure?  Here drink this.  Sit down-I
mean-well-stay seated, are you dizzy?  Should I call your husband, how bad
does it hurt on a scale from one to ten?"

   Dale shoved his blue water bottle towards her as he tried to guide her
to one of the nearby benches, though Sammy went motioned the opposite way.

   "Dang it Dale I said I'm fine, just a little stumble's all.  Jeez, I'm
not made of glass you know."

   Dale was taken aback at the biting tone in Sammy's voice.

   "But I", was all Dale managed to choke before Sammy cut in again, with a
breathing bit of laughter this time as the mood lightened.

   "You see this", Sammy said, pointing to her shirt.

   Dale looked down at Sammy's chest, his face instantly turning red upon
realizing he was staring at Sammy's round sweaty chest heaving lightly
inside her shirt.

   "Uh, yeah."

   "It means when you fall, ya get back up.  You don't lay down and sob
like a toddler when ya fall down."

   Dale realized that Sammy was talking about the slogan on her shirt. 
He'd always noticed it to be her favorite thing to wear during her
workouts, notably from the effect of how tightly it clung to her skin
before and (especially) after she had spent hours of physical exertion into
it.

   "I take tumbles every single day", she continued.  "I'm all left feet
and thumbs for just about everythin else except cookin, cleanin...and
this."

   Her voice took on an oddly defiant tone with the remark, teetering
between motivational and reprimanding towards Dale's attempt at playing
white knight.

   "And I'll be butched if I let one little fall mess up the rest of my
workout."

   Dale couldn't think up an intelligent response.  What could he say?  He
knew that Sammy's physical ability surpassed that of basically everyone
else he knew.  Unsure of how to continue, Dale simply nodded, straightened
himself up, and said,

   "You're right.  Just...just making sure you're alright is all.  Wouldn't
want you getting hurt on my watch."

   Sammy smiled at the sight of Dale puffing his chest, erecting himself
upward in an attempt at showy protective masculinity.

   "You're such a goof Dale", she said, nudging him lightly in the stomach
with her elbow.

   Immediately Dale's manly fascade dropped back into his boyish red
colored smile.

   "If you need anything, just holler." He said.

   "Sure thing", said Sammy as she turned away and back to the treadmill.

   Dale simply watched the view of her body as she strolled back upon the
mill, and resumed her workout.  As Sammy brought herself back up to a
steady run, her glance slowly shifted to the right side of the gym, where
it rested on the new trainer, Dwayne, lifting what looked like twice -no-
three times her weight in iron on the squat machine.  The angle of it made
the user face away from Sammy, so that when the person on the machine would
squat down for a repetition, their backside would slowly come into full
view.  As Dwayne went down in motion of the exercise, Sammy got another
full view of his butt, thick legs, taught back, and -most notably- the
gigantic bulge that hung just between his legs as he went down.  Sammy had
neglected to mention the true reason of what caused her fall to Dale, that
seeing the full mass of a penis easily the size of her arm sitting inside
Dwayne's pants had distracted her to the point she lost her footing on the
treadmill, and tumbled as a result.

   Good lord, the redhead thought to herself, keeping her composure this
time and not moving out of step with the machine's tracks.  That thing is
enormous.  Dwayne hadn't noticed her blunder, he was too transfixed on his
own workout.  Sammy was grateful for this, as she didn't wish to give the
new trainer an impression that she was clumsy inside as well as outside the
gym.  Upon seeing the trainer Sammy had been greatly impressed and -to a
lesser degree- intimidated by the large black man.

   The members of the Olympian weren't anywhere in spitting distance as
defined, chisled, and in shape as he was.  Hell, not even any of the other
trainers came even close.  It impressed her indeed, seeing someone that
took their health and exercise as seriously as she did, and showing almost
as seemingly boundless a devotion to their workouts as she did.  And now
added to the list of pros found in this new, hip, extremely fit trainer was
the fact that he possessed -as far as her angle of the gym could present-
the hugest member she had ever seen in her life.  Though she had done her
absolute best to press the memory of the last book club meeting down, it
still often bubbled up to the fore of her mind with how incredibly hung
(and fit) the black men she had been seeing lately were.

   Recently, Sammy, along with her dear friends Anya White, Bianca
Blackwood, Ivana Swallows, and Jenny Summers, had gathered for their weekly
Coxville book club gathering.  It was supposed to be a movie night, however
what was featured was a far cry away from what she'd expected.  Sammy had
discovered, to her initial shock, that Jenny -one of her best friends, an
elder sister figure really- had somehow been caught on video engaging in
the most intense of sexual activities with a another man.  And not just any
other man, a black man to boot.  The footage had somehow accidentally been
played before the group, and it had left them all speechless, wide eyed,
and thoroughly amazed.  They spent the entire night talking to Jenny about
her experiences, and what it was like for her getting (what Jenny adamantly
described as) "Big Black Cock".  The tales of Jenny's adventures entranced
the beautiful redhead, had entrance them all really, and aroused her in
ways she'd never thought feasible via the simple oral recanting of Jenny's
stories.  Sammy realized only later how deeply that night had imprinted
itself on her.  Despite her strict deep southern upbringing, and her
guarded childhood, Sammy had always (to some degree or another) been
curious about men of the darker complexion.  Prior to that night Sammy had
only be subconsciously aware of how black men around town would often look
at her, appraise and smile at her as she'd walk down the halls of her high
school.  The gesture hadn't meant anything outside of the norm for her
until that night, when, in a moment of what she now could only articulate
as a moment of pure madness, had taken to a young black man by the name of
Samson West.  She had taken to him in ways she'd never outwardly thought
possible, and to the degree that she herself decided to join in on Jenny's
"training session" on how to properly engage black men.

   In short, Sammy had marveled at the young negro's naked, flawless,
muscle riddled frame, and had taken a particular fancy to (at least to the
best of her ability) the young man's penis that was cradled deep into her
mouth.  Its length, girth, and degree of hardness had finally gotten the
message and meaning behind the appraising glances and somewhat sinister
grins.  The experience was something that Sammy could not describe with
tangible words or speech.  It was every wonderful meal she'd ever had all
at once.  It was the hot shower she'd take right after her rigorous workout
and the following relaxing lounge in the steam room that would follow.  It
was that occasional chocolate bar that she would give herself after
reaching a new physical goal of lifting more weight or gaining an extra cut
or curve on her already astounding frame.  It was all of those things
wrapped into one dark, velvety, twelve inch package, and Sammy had loved
every moment it, a part of her secretly confessed.  Now she found herself
here, stupefied and equally (if not more so) astounded by this new, hip,
incredibly good looking, remarkably in shape black trainer California.  The
last thing she wanted was for him to think of her as some clumsy redheaded
bimbo who didn't know how to put one foot in front of the other.  The
reason?  She asked herself.  She didn't want Dwayne to reject her, deny her
of

   Sammy almost missed another step on the treadmill, but caught herself
before she slipped again.  Luckily no one had noticed the near blunder, and
everyone continued with their moderately engaging workout.  Get a grip
girl, Sammy thought to herself.  Sammy then straightened herself up, forced
her face forward, away from Dwayne and his immense member, and continued
with her workout.

   ...

   Two hours later Sammy had finished her workout.  To her great relief the
remainder of it went without a repeated incident of her earlier tumble.  As
she walked into the women's locker room and undressed from her tight sweaty
garments of spandex and soaked cotton to take a much needed shower, she
briefly mulled over the checklist of lingering errands she had left to run
in her day.  There weren't many, as Sammy often made it a point to take
care of such chores early in the day, so as not to have to worry about them
later, and to have the freedom to get more routines into her already
rigorous regimen.  Ivana would often join her for evening session, which
was just as intense as her morning one, but was given a somewhat less
serious tone what with Sammy giving the competitive brunette tips on form
and proper pacing of energy exertion.  Sammy lathered her warm, now amber
colored body with deep gobs of liquid soap, and gently rubbed herself from
head to toe.  This was one of the moments she relished most about her
workouts.

   The soothing hot water beading on her body.  Her cleansing and
relaxation process always placed her in an almost Zen-like state of mind.
Also, Sammy had noticed, her efforts often made her feel satisfied in other
physical ways as well.  In keeping with her elder's teachings of prudent
taciturnity, Sammy would remain tight lipped about voicing this little
truth aloud, but more often than not she perceived the physical
satisfaction found in her exercises to be akin to -if not greater than- the
act of having sex.  At the very least it was an effective deterrent to her
current problem at home.  The problem being that Sammy had not had an
orgasm in almost six weeks.  It was a fact that remained unknown to
virtually everyone who knew Sammy as the prim, optimistic, and socially
gilded redhead, and a secret that remained sealed in even the most free and
loose lipped of conversations.  The "proper bred" Coxville beauty however,
despite all appearances, secretly loved the deed.

   After their wedding day, she would often attempt to engage her husband
in a proposed bout of bedroom ruckus.  Steve was an adequate lover, her
first and only, and all that she thought she'd ever need.  He was
attentive, fairly passionate, gave excellent oral, and was in possession of
a none-too-unimpressive member.  Though she would have had to confess that
it was the only member she'd ever had to compare it to any other, that
is...until recently.  Steve's work schedule over the last few months
however had made things grow rather stagnant in their bedroom.  Stagnant
being a generous choice of words, more like non-existent, thought the
redhead.  Steve had been exhausted over the previous weeks.  So exhausted
from working such late hours that he hadn't been up for the task.

   And even when he was, Sammy thought, I always end up wearing him out
before I even get started.  Sammy's energetic nature indeed applied to all
things.  Her natural hyperactivity, along with the physical fruits of her
strength and endurance training at the gym had made her into a seemingly
insatiable woman in bed.  Many a night Steve Spitzmen would gasp, grunt and
groan fiercely as Sammy rode atop him.  Her hips and ass working in concert
with one another, bounding up and down with unnatural speed and force,
making him climax -in the longest of bouts- within forty-five seconds.  His
pace and sexual appetites simply couldn't keep up with scarlet haired minx,
and in one finalizing burst of breath, Steve would spasm and jerk, his body
tensing in a ten second release of motion punctuated with a snarling,

   "Oh my gawd, I'm comin!"

   Sammy would only be nearing the crest of her own orgasm by the time she
would look down to see Steve lulled into a nigh comatose sleep, his bearish
features relaxed and sunken deep in the land of Nod.  Silently frustrated,
Sammy would then roll off of her husband and proceed to quietly pleasure
herself until she reached her own finish, a satisfying but far less active
orgasm than she would have hoped.

   For weeks now this had been the pattern, and Sammy's only recourse was
to work her frustrations out on the gym equipment that she now used on a
daily basis.  Wiping and rubbing herself down now in the shower had
reaffirmed the looming truth that while her workouts had done wonders for
her health and mental standing, she longed to be touched.  Her urges to be
sexually satisfied -no- leveled if not thoroughly dominated had been only
been lessened from a broil to an increasing simmer with her diversionary
tactic.  Thoroughly leveled like how Jenny was in that video, she thought.
Dominated like how she knew in her gut Samson West could based on how
overwhelmed she was while sucking him off and how strong he stood before
her.  Sammy hadn't even noticed she'd slipped her right middle finger into
herself until she heard her own gentle moans under the steady current of
the hot steaming water.

   The simple memory of having Samson, big and heavy and rippling was
muscle in her mouth had her incredibly moist.  She found it simply
irresistible when a man took care of his body.  The shape and feel of toned
skin had always been a hot button for her.  She used her middle finger to
probe gently into herself, the soap lather rubbing against her wet and
sensitive clit, sending light tingles up her spine, while her other finger
rubbed at the soft flesh and nipple of her breast before brushing to her
firm abs.  Bet that boy Samson knows how to give a girl a workout, she
thought.  She had seen it for herself that night in the living room while
Jenny rode him in the white reclining chair, had observed his power and
force as he pumped his dark foot of meat like a piston up into Jenny's deep
pink pussy.  Samson knew how a woman liked it on top.  She'd held the image
in her mind for a long moment, letting it coast her warming parts towards a
sweet release of ecstasy.  Jenny's deep but effeminate grunts matched with
Samson manly groans composed the soundtrack nearing her orgasm.  Until, to
Sammy's great dismay, the memory was abruptly brushed aside with the
entrance of several other voices.  A band of older women entered the
showering area.  Five of them, gaggling and gossiping over this and that.

   Sammy jumped slightly, almost slipping on the wet tile and removed her
finger from sweetening gash with a swift jerk that left her feeling empty
and a fair bit beyond annoyed with the old ladies' intrusion.  Gathering
her senses back, Sammy then quickly finished her shower, and raced out of
the room after washing the soap from her skin and hair.

   ...

   In the locker room, Sammy dried herself off with a large towel, her mind
and body now in an even state (though still coming down from her near
climax in the shower).  I've got to get a grip, she thought.  After she
finished drying off she wrapped herself in the mid sized towel she'd
brought from home around her body.  She was totally naked underneath, but
the towel was wrapped firmly enough around her torso and bound tightly
enough around her vast chest that she didn't worry too much about it coming
undone.  The towel (perhaps) gave a view of her legs and thighs than would
have been deemed a bit more than generous to some, but Sammy didn't pay it
too much mind.  She wasn't planning on being very social for the next while
anyway.  She set her bag back inside the locker, and walked out of the room
and into the long hallway.  She stepped out into the empty corridor and
walked at a ginger pace towards a large brown door that read Steam Room in
large white letters just below a solid glass widow affixed to it.  Sammy's
routine always ended with a fifteen minute stint in the steam room.  The
steam room was located in a far off wing of the gym, at the very end of the
hallway passed the men and women's shower rooms.  Most of the gym's patrons
didn't use the area, as they saw it as an unnecessary vanity tool.  Havin a
room built just fer sweatin in the south makes about as much sense as tryin
to sell a cow a carton of milk was what many of the older gym goers would
sniff.

   It had been added only a few months prior, at the behest of the gym's
owner, who wanted to add "a more modern touch to the gym's already advanced
facilities and equipment".  The gym's members however didn't see a purpose
behind the room.  Pretty much all except for Sammy that is.  She was all
about being modern and advanced, and found the idea of a place to just
relax and let the gentle steam open her pores to be brilliant.  Therefore,
because it was an area not often treaded by patrons of the Olympian Gym,
Sammy would often have the room all to herself, especially at this time of
day in the early afternoon.

   She'd capitalize on the vacant space.  She'd lay back, lounge, and
release any lingering tension in her hard worked muscles.  The steam room
itself was spacious, but quaint in size and layout.  The interior went in
an ovular shape, large enough that it could likely hold about nine people
or so with comfort.  The center of the room was bare of all objects except
for a single slim white cauldron that emitted room's heat, which was a
steady and not at all overwhelming one.  The walls were fit with smooth
crème colored tile, and the sitting areas settled in a wide arc going along
the walls of the room in a deeper brown color.  Sammy closed the door and
was immediately engulfed in the haze of the steam.  There air held a green
and slightly sweet scent, the product of some sort of herbs that Dale had
placed inside the steaming unit, specially tailored for Sammy of course.

   She found it to be a sweat gesture from the boy.  He'd even gone as far
as to set the room to the perfect temperature for her beforehand.  So your
skin doesn't get all wrinkled and pruny, he'd told her with an accomplished
smile.  The room wasn't hot, but rather maintained a gentle warmth that
Sammy found pleasant and knew would take her quite some time to be even
remotely irritated by.  The room was filled with a grayish haze from the
steam, making it difficult to see ahead of her.  It was foggy and blotted
her vision.  Not completely to the point of blind, but all the same
incredibly hard to see.  Sammy closed the room door behind her as she
walked in, and after a moment of consideration twisted the lock on the
door.

   Sammy didn't normally lock the door to the steam room, a belief in
thinking it to be inconsiderate of others in the event they wished to get a
bit of steam soaking in for themselves.  But today had been a tough -near
traumatic- workout for the redhead.  It was unlikely to occur, but the last
thing she wanted to hear today was a gaggle of older people barging in and
obsessing over the little spill she'd taken earlier.  Fawning over her to
the point she screamed.

   She didn't want to remember the fall, and therefore wanted to avoid the
embarrassing matter from being spoken of for as long as she could.  Sammy
concluded that it wouldn't kill the few (all but imaginary) people if they
were locked out of the room for a few minutes while she unwound quietly by
herself.

   Not like anyone but me uses the dang room anyway, she thought.  She
truly doubted that today would finally be the day that the other gym
patrons would decide to use the steam facility.  She settled herself on the
far side of the room, after passing the cauldron and dropping a single
splash of water onto the hot rocks for a bit more heat.  There was an
abrupt sizzle from the heated rocks upon coming into contact with the
water, and the room almost immediately went up another meager degree or so.
High enough that it would allow Sammy's pores to open.  Her body was
already in a relaxed state, her skin a pink shade beaming of health.  She
closed her eyes, letting the sensation overtake her.  Sammy was so far in
the land of relaxation that she almost didn't hear the deep silky voice
that rose from the gray mist.

   "Just when a brotha gets a nice vibe going with the heat too..."

   Sammy's eyes abruptly shot open and darted left in the direction she
thought she heard the voice come from.  All she saw however were thick
clouds of steam wafting in front of her eyes.  She waved at the plume,
waving the steam away so that she could get a glimpse of who was (to her
surprise) in the room with her.  She hadn't heard or seen anyone when she
first came in, but she hadn't exactly been paying attention to her
surroundings either.  When the waves of steam finally parted, her eyes
settled on the strongly featured face of a man.

   "I had the temperature just right too", he then said.  "Not too hot or
nothin."

   Sammy was silent for a moment.  The name behind the face settled into
Sammy's brain before she abruptly said,

   "Oh gosh!  Dwayne, you startled me."

   "Oh", said Dwayne as the left part of his mouth curled into a smirk. 
"You know my name after all."

   Sammy would have usually jumped into apologies for disturbing someone
else's steam room session, but she was too preoccupied with slowing down
her racing heartbeat that for a moment she couldn't form a coherent
response.  Thoroughly caught off guard by the fact there was actually
someone else besides her in the room, Sammy just stood there.  A red headed
cat caught with the canary in her mouth, O expression on her face and all.

   "What?" Dwayne said curiously.

   "Huh?" Blurted Sammy, looking at the deep brown orbs that were Dwayne's
eyes.  She found them to be very pretty upon closer inspection, despite the
steam obscuring her vision.  They were rich and dark and reminded her of
her the color of her grandmother's homemade brownies in their depth and
warmth.

   "You look like I just asked you for your wallet or something girl."

   "Oh...no no, you just surprised me is all."

   "I see..."

   "I mean, I'm usually the only person in here at this time of day,
so...". Sammy trailed off, losing whatever thought she had to appraise
Dwayne.

   The steam hadn't lifted entirely, but it had dissipated just enough for
her to be able to make out more Dwayne's position.  At closer inspection
from a clearer lens she saw that Dwayne was sitting comfortably, his arms
outstretched over the top of the seating area, and his legs outstretched in
front of him.  He wore just a towel that was perhaps a bit too small for
him.  It held tightly around his waist, the tied points ending at the upper
portion of his right thigh, which was left bare and exposed the mass and
deep muscle lines of his solid dark legs.

   "That's what I thought about the place too... til now."

   "I'm real sorry about that", she said, about to turn around and walk out
the door when Dwayne responded with,

   "Hey hey, don't trip, stick around.  Saunas gotta get used by somebody
right?"

   Sauna, the word lingered in Sammy's mind.  She'd never heard anyone
refer to the room as anything but the steam room.  She of course knew what
the word sauna meant, but to Sammy it was a refreshing to hear someone else
use it.

   "You sure it's alright?  I mean if I don't mean to be a bother or noth-"

   "Bother?"

   The black man laughed bit.

   "Girl it'd be my pleasure.  Come on, have a seat and chill for a
minute."

   The phrase chill didn't make much sense to her however.

   "But we're in a steam room, how are we gonna-"

   Her question was interrupted again by Dwayne's hardy laughter.

   "Dang, this is the south huh?"

   Sammy's face flushed red.  She couldn't help it.  She was embarrassed
that she didn't get his California lingo.  And even if it wasn't
Californian lingo, it was slang she'd never heard before in her part of
town.

   "Relax", said Dwayne.  "Come on, take a load off and have a seat."

   Dwayne emphasized his urging her sit down by placing a hand on the area
of the seat next to him.  After another second of thought, Sammy decided to
take him up on the offer.  She did however choose to sit a few feet away
from the large negro, choosing a comfortable middle point in the sauna. 
Her elder's counsel subconsciously guiding her moves to steer clear of
black people.  Yeah its the south alright, though Dwayne.  Dwayne didn't
outwardly respond to the gesture as offensive however.  He simply continued
to smile that warm smile of his at her.  Even through the awkward silence
that was carried on by nothing but the sound of the steam as it sifted
through the air, he kept smiling at her.  This white bitch is fine as a
muphucka, He thought.  Total change of pace from the rest of these soft
pasty redneck ass yokels that come in here.



   "So, you've got my name from Dale apparently, what's yours?"

   Sammy was a little thrown off by the question.  It wasn't often that
people introduced themselves in Coxville, as its small town inhabitants
seldom needed to.  Everyone knew one another.

   "Samantha, Samantha Spitzmen.  But my folks and friends call me Sammy",
she said.

   "Pleasure to meet you Sammy.  Looks like you were really on one today in
the gym out there."

   Sammy found Dwayne's silky Californian accent to be a kind of audible
candy for her ears.  He still used many of the broken syllabic inflections
on his words as though he were from the south, but his voice clearly hinted
that he wasn't from around here.  She was unfamiliar with the dialect, but
very much enjoyed listening to it, the smooth and sultry tambour that she
couldn't help but find herself wanting to hear more of.

   "On what?" said Sammy, tilting her head curiously to one side like a
bird making sense of an image.

   Dwayne laughed again.

   "I mean you were really goin hard out there in the gym today.  I don't
think any of the trainers here could have kept up with you even if they
wanted to."

   "Oh, right.  Thanks" replied Sammy.

   "You trainin for somethin?"

   "Me?  Oh no, I just like being active is all."

   "I see.  How often do you come here?  I mean I've been here for a little
over a month now and I haven't noticed you around."

   "Oh, twice a day about five days a week."

   "Damn!  The fuck outta here, twice a day?"

   "Yep."

   "Man, that's hardcore if I've eva seen it.  You're a beast."

   "A beast!?" Sammy blurted, taken aback by the remark.  "Now that's just
rude!  My grandmamma says if you don't have anything nice to say about
someone, then you should keep your trap shut."

   Sammy pouted and crossed her arms, not understanding Dwayne's
compliment. He laughed again hardily, throwing his head back as he did.

   "Nah nah that's not what that means.  Being a `beast' where I come from
means you're really intense you know?  All-star status.  Pro at what you
do, you feel me?"

   "Ohhh", Sammy said, her head nodding slowly.  "Man, you California folks
have some weird phrases." Said Sammy.

   "Like just the other day I was fu-uh-trainin this chick at my other job
right?"

   "What's your other job?"

   "Oh, another gym gig.  I'm also a trainer at Black Iron" Dwayne said.

   "You mean that..." Sammy stopped.  She didn't want to say that all-black
gym on the other end of town.  "You mean that other gym on the other side
of town", was what she settled on, but couldn't hide the slight sign of
disapproval by the slight scrunching of her nose and eyebrows.

   "Yeah, they got all the fight and conditioning gear I need there, so I
go there to train, plus my cousin works there."

   "I see" Sammy said.

   She knew about the other side of town from friends and relatives.  All
them, most adamantly Bobbie Sue, had told her to never, under any
circumstances to go down there.  They call it N-Town for a reason Sammy,
was all she'd say.

   "But anyway" Dwayne continued.  "There was this one chick I was workin
on.  She was real serious about getting an intense workout, know what I'm
sayin?"

   Sammy did, or at least thought she did.  There was something in Dwayne's
tone that she didn't altogether make him sound like he was telling her the
whole story.  Maybe it was simply the odd upward inflections that hung at
the end of his every sentence.  It was a peculiar manner of speech, but one
she's didn't altogether dislike.  It just made it difficult at times for
the redhead to identify the intended meaning of his words.  She did know,
accent or none, that he was leaving something out of the plot about this
little anecdote.  Something gnawing just beneath the surface, and a
punchline she just wasn't privy to.  In the end she merely pressed the
suspicion down and listened on in silence.

   "She was serious about getting some deep work in on her glutes right? 
So I obliged.  Went on for well over two hours."

   "Sounds rough" Sammy said, unconsciously leaning herself closer towards
the negro.

   "Oh hell yeah, straight wore her OUT son."

   "I see" was all Sammy could say, noting how excited Dwayne suddenly
became recanting the tale.  "Sounds like you really put her through the
ringer that day."

   "Oh fo sho, girl rolled in a week later talkin about she STILL couldn't
walk."

   "Wow, really?"

   "Yep, that's how we roll at the Black Iron."

   "That sounds like a really intense workout alright."

   "My clients only get the best from me, know what I mean?  They want a
hard workout, I give it to them.  Hell, for that chick I even brought in a
couple of my boys who was there that day to help me out."

   "You're really serious about staying in shape aren't you?"

   "It's not just a job, it's a lifestyle babe." Was what he'd said. 
Wearing white pussy out is a way of life was what he thought.  "You may
only be as old as you feel, but in my opinion, you only feel as good as you
look."

   "Interesting", replied Sammy.

   "It only takes one look at you to know you KNOW what I'm talkin about."
Dwayne said with his now familiar smirk curling again on his mouth.

   "What do you mean?" Sammy replied coyly.

   "Oh come on, don't play modest.  Workin out twice a day?  The way you
carry yourself, all that energy, you KNOW what I mean.  You're all about
going deep and pushing hard."

   Sammy wouldn't admit it out aloud, but she was well aware about what he
meant.  Sammy could never deny how good she felt after every workout.  The
feeling of her muscles stretching and contracting with each rep.  The pace
of hear breath working in union with her racing heart as she ran.  It all
made her feel alive, at her body's height and maximum efficiency.  And
knowing that she was working hard was reaffirmed by how her body looked. 
That very morning she had looked in the mirror and smiled brightly at how
shapely, toned, and healthy looking her body was.  She knew what Dwayne
meant entirely, and suddenly felt a connection to the tall, muscular black
man.

   "Yeah, I think I know exactly what you mean." She said, her face slowly
beginning to beam.  "Gosh, FINALLY I meet someone who gets it!", she said
with a kind of relief sitting atop her tone.  "Everyone else I know just
goes until they get tired or aren't comfortable any more, and then they
just quit.  Just flat out fall to the ground and gasp for breath like
they're dying or something.  And meanwhile I haven't even broken a sweat
yet."

   "You know what it means to push deep", said Dwayne, repeating himself
and putting emphasis on the word deep.

   "Yeah...I guess I do", said Sammy, her cheeks blushing a bit at the
statement.  The word deep hit a particular chord in her that she didn't
acknowledge, and only vaguely understood.

   Dwayne really gets it, Sammy thought.  HE knows what the rush is like,
how great it is when you're in the middle of an intense workout.  Sammy
could easily conclude this just by a single glance from him as well.  By
now a lot of the steam had cleared from their end of the room.  At some
point during the conversation, Sammy had unknowingly scooted over a few
feet closer to the black man.  Inched her way bit by bit so that they were
now a mere three feet away from one another.  Sammy now had a far better
view of the man.  She could see every curve, lift, and line of immaculate
muscle lining his body, and was -to say the absolute least- very impressed.
They spoke more, and over the course of conversation Sammy learned a few
details about this Dwayne fellow.  Turns out he was actually a native of
Coxville.  He had been born in the heart of N-Town, and had moved to live
with some relatives in California when he was nine after some sort of
family complication.  During his stay in California, he'd gotten into a
variety of sports, before falling into martial arts.  He'd studied under a
variety of disciplines, many of the names Sammy couldn't pronounce, and her
memory of each art were limited to the few action films she'd seen with
Steven.  Dwayne eventually found his way into the mixed-martial arts
circles, and had actually been in several matches that gained him a fair
bit of acclaim.  All of which I won of course, he added.  His involvement
in the circuit had garnered a fair bit of money from endorsements, the
selling of gym equipment, training and the like, and eventually he decided
to move back to Coxville to establish a kind of fighting base near his home
roots.

   "Keeping a place near my roots is really important to me.  In California
you get a lot of plastic muphukas tryin to come at you like they your
family, you know?  I just wanted to get away from all that and make a place
for myself back in the place I was born, near ma roots ya feel me?"

   Sammy didn't, not really, but she did her best to understand.  Sammy
prided herself on being accepting of others, and she genuinely found
Dwayne's story to be one of a touching and very compelling one.  Minute by
minute she felt a connection with him forming.  She'd never lived in strife
or had to be relocated from her home, but in wanting to understand Dwayne's
upbringing she felt it was a solid first step towards something profound.

   Her eyes eventually found themselves crossing over the lower half of
Dwayne's body not long after.  She again noted how small the towel was on
his built frame.  The slouched angle of how he sat made it possible for her
to see the faint outline of a bulge that seemed to be sitting atop his
right thigh, concealed under the thick white cotton fabric.  It looked odd
to her, and for a long moment she had to stop and actually peer deeper at
the spot to make sense of it.

   It was a large, thick mass that made it look like Dwayne had a kind of
soft tube slouched over his leg underneath the towel.  Dwayne tilted his
head back, soaking up the steam of the room and making his lower legs shift
as a result.  The fleshy mass moved with him slightly, showing that it was
in fact a part of him rather than something that he was hiding.  Good lord,
thought the redhead.  Is that his"If you want, I can train you some time",
came Dwayne's smooth voice suddenly, breaking her out of her stupor.

   "Wha-what?!"

   "I mean, you're already in excellent shape, but if you ever want a few
professional pointers, I'd be more than glad to show you a thing or two" he
said.  And then some, he added mentally

   Sammy gulped, uncertain of how to respond to what was -by all
appearances- a simple nod of acknowledgment and a cordial invitation.  An
invitation to what though, questioned Sammy.  Gnawing at it in her mind,
she went to the lesser traversed regions, the darker part of Sammy Spitzmen
that she herself was only aware at the most basic and vague of levels.  The
part of her that had come to the fore that night at the meeting, and knew
just enough about black men and -as Jenny worded it- Big Black Cock to be
capable of presenting an answer.  An invitation to break my little pink
pussy with that big ol dick, thought Sammy's darker aspect from a corner of
her brain, a mischievous voice in the back of her mind that Sammy had never
known before.

   The mere thought made her gasp.  She shook her head slightly, as though
the gesture would cut loose any crude lingering thoughts that may still be
residing inside her.

   "I dunno...", Sammy then said hesitantly.  "Sounds like you're pretty
intense.  I dunno if I could handle it."

   Sammy knew that the conversation had taken a different pace and held a
deeper quality now.  That there was an underlying hint that they were both
prodding every time they'd idly flirt with one another.  Sammy knew she
should stop, for she hadn't forgotten that she was still a very much
married woman, who was very much in love with her husband.  But still, the
mischievous part of her persisted in poking at the underside of the dialog.
Dwayne laughed again and looked over to Sammy.  His eyes went up and down,
looking over her tight body wrapped inside the now moistening white towel.

   "Baby, you're in awesome shape.  Trust me, you can handle it."

   The silky smooth words dripped into Sammy's ears, and she felt her body
tingle in response.  It was a sensation that wasn't entirely unlike the
kind she felt in the shower earlier while she was masturbating.

   "So, you down?" asked Dwayne, his infamous smirk once again crossing his
handsome features.

   "I'm sorry", blurted Sammy.  "I...I can't".

   What's gotten into me, she thought.  I'm a married woman for pete's
sake. I can't be doing this.  Thinkin these thoughts.  What I did with that
West boy in front of the girls was bad enough, but now I'm seriously
thinking about-, she couldn't finish, couldn't bring herself to complete
the thought.  Sammy abruptly jumped to her feet, and began making her way
towards the sauna door.

   "Sorry..." she said, walking swiftly passed him.

   She knew she had to get out of there.  Away from Dwayne as fast as she
could, despite the fact the other part of her was screaming, pleading,
begging for her to stay.  Her body lunged forward in a start, and was only
somewhat aware of Dwayne standing up with her at the same time in pursuit.

   "Hey, wait, where are you go-"Dwayne's voice was cut by the abrupt sound
of Sammy's sudden gasp as she felt her feet fly out from under her.

   Of course, the universe in all its wonder would ineffably conclude that
now would be the perfect time for Sammy's clumsiness to kick back in.  For
her left leg to trip over her right, causing her to plummet forward towards
the hard floors of the sauna.  Sammy shrieked and flailed her arms about
the air wildly as she fell.  Hoping to grab on to something, anything that
would keep her from falling face first onto the hard marble floor, or
-worse- into the cauldron that was now dangerously close to her.  Her heart
skipped a beat, and time went into its odd habit of slowing down in the
precise moment of crisis.  Sammy was relieved however when her flailing
right hand caught onto something solid.  It wasn't the seat, nor was it
anything particularly sturdy.  It was soft, but backed by something hard
and stable enough that she was able to grab on and break her own fall by
pulling with all she could on it and bracing herself with her other arm. 
The seam of something.

   Whatever it was, the seam soon gave way and fell along with her the rest
of the way to warm floor of the room.

   "Oh shit!" Sammy heard Dwayne curse.

   She hit the floor with an audible smack, but was grateful that her head
hadn't hit the floor, and her training and upper body strength kept her
from falling flat, and ending in her being in more of a push-up position.
Her right ankle however did smack rather hard on the tile, and a dull pain
shot up her leg and into her lower back.  All in all however, she was left
no more worse for the wear than that.

   "You alright?" She heard Dwayne say, genuine concern carried in his
silky voice.

   She lifted herself up onto her knees, her gaze focused on the lower half
of her body.

   "Ouch, dang it", she said.

   She didn't see any other signs that she had been injured.

   "That's wipeout number two" said Dwayne.

   "What?!" shot Sammy in surprise.

   Her worst fears had been confirmed.  Dwayne had seen her earlier plunge
from the treadmill after all.  He had simply chosen not to say anything
about it until now.

   "Oh my gosh you saw tha-"Sammy looked up, and her mouth abruptly
dropped, her words freezing on the air despite the steam.

   ...

   Sammy Spitzmen was a nice girl.  A kind, sweet natured southern belle
that had been raised to carry herself with nothing short of an elegant
poise and -to the best of her ability- grace.  Even when she attempted to
rebel by forcing herself to mesh and mince words to make her sound more of
"hick", she was still seen as a precious and prim little thing.  This
aspect of Sammy however died the moment her eyes settled on the sight of
Dwayne, and the long, solid black cock that dangled heavily between his
legs and a barely a foot away from her face.  It was a fat veiny member of
an easy ten inches, with an uncircumcised knob-like head that was almost
about as thick and rounded as an actual doorknob.

   "Mind if I get that back?" Dwayne then asked.  She could see the smirk
growing on his face without even looking at him.

   Sammy was awe struck at the sight of Dwayne's immense cock, and had to
rip her eyes away to look down at her right hand, and to what she had
grabbed to brace her fall.  In her hand was Dwayne's ill fitted white
towel, clutched between her fingers and lying limply on the tiles.

   "Oh my GOD!" Sammy then squeaked.

   Dwayne laughed again.

   "I...I'm so", Sammy wanted to apologize, she truly did.  However the
words immediately died on her lips upon gazing up at the towering black
man.

   "No need to be sorry baby", cooed Dwayne.  "It's only natural for a fit
girl like yourself to want to check the equipment she's gonna use for a
workout."

   Sammy's breath sat still in her throat.  She looked up at Dwayne's face,
and the solid mass of muscle that lined his body along the way.  Goodness
gracious, she thought.  He soooo built.  Naked, Dwayne was an even more
impressive specimen than she'd noted him to be earlier.  His body was a
pillar of nothing but rock hard muscle and fine ridges over smooth dark
brown skin.

   "So, what do you think baby, you like?" Dwayne said with an notable
degree of confidence.

   "Its, I mean...you're...you're enormous."

   Dwayne chuckled.

   "Been told that once or twice.  While you're down there, you wanna give
it a taste?"

   Sammy knew she shouldn't, she knew she couldn't.  It wasn't right.  She
was a married woman for the gentle lord's sake.  Her blowing Samson West
was already something that she'd wanted to feel incredibly guilty about,
and had to press deep down into the darkest recesses of her mind to ward
off the guilt.  If anyone knew what she'd done, her friends and -lord
forbid- her family, she'd be finished, ruined.  She'd lose everything that
her life contained and held promise of.  And what's that exactly, came the
darker aspect of Sammy once again.  Lose out on making more meals for that
unappreciative slob Steve?  More preening and apologizing to everyone every
time you stumble over yourself.  More cleaning, more dishes and dusting,
and keeping in shape for a husband that's always too tired to fuck?  Sammy
shook her head again in hopes the voice would go away like it had before.
However it didn't, it merely continued its tirade.  Look at this big cock
you've got right in front of you Sammy.  Look at the body it's attached to.
Think about how you felt that night when you had Samson's big block cock
lodged in your mouth.  Wasn't it big?  Bigger than anything you've ever
had? Look at it.  It's massive huh?  Think it gets as hard and spreads your
jaw as wide as Samson's did if you sucked it?  You think it would last
longer than forty seconds if you fucked it?  I think it would.  You should
try it.

   "Well..." came Dwayne.

   "But I'm married..." said Sammy, just as much to the voice in her head
as much as to Dwayne.

   So's Jenny, thought Sammy, and she seems just fine with it.  Come on
Sammy, you know you want it.  Its right there, go get it.  Get that big fat
nigger dick.  No one'll know, and you remember how amazing Jenny said it
was, you saw it for yourself.  Jenny will love hearing about this.  All the
girls will.

   The voice in Sammy's head continued, her words impelling her body to
slowly raise her left hand up towards Dwayne's cock.  Her fingers
eventually came close enough and brushed across the flesh of it, and upon
feeling its warmth, clasped as much as she could into her grasp.

   "Jesus Christ", said Sammy as she gripped it tighter.  She felt the
veins pulse below the skin, and watched as a single clear drop of pre-cum
formed a dew-like shape at the tip of Dwayne's dark urethra.

   "Don't be afraid baby." Dwayne reassured.  "Just move nice and slow. 
Start with the tip for a warm up."

   That's it bitch, get at that black dick Thought Dwayne.  First that
blonde bitch at Black Iron, now this fine ass redhead bitch at this
white-bread ass gym.  Without another word, Sammy leaned her head closer to
the Dwayne's engorged one.  That's it, taste it, Sammy thought.  Her lips
slowly parted, and soon she had to gap her mouth as wide as she could just
to make way for the approaching flesh.

   "Ok, I guess I can at least try..." She whispered.

   As her mouth enclosed on the hot head, she felt her body heat rise and
her womb flex in small waves of anticipatory pleasure.  Sammy slid the
first inch of so of Dwayne's enormous dick into her mouth easily enough,
and slowly inched upwards in a long swallow that ended at almost the half
way mark.  That's not even half, she thought to herself.  Dwayne was a fair
bit bigger than Samson was, and Sammy soon found herself feeling more than
a tad overwhelmed by the girth of Dwayne's black cock.  Before she
continued, Sammy recalled part of the advice Jenny had given her during the
meeting.  How spit was her friend in moments like this.  She gathered a
hefty amount between the roof of her mouth and tongue, all the while
stroking Dwayne in gentle passes.  She slathered the spit on her tongue and
then dragged it slowly along the top Dwayne's dickhead.  Spit dribbled was
spread from the top and fell in a thin line from the tip, and Sammy did her
best lap it up and place it back on her chocolate rod.

   It looks even better when its wet with my spit, she thought before
taking it back into her mouth.  She opened her jaws as far as she could to
get more of it in.  Her lips parted high enough that Dwayne could feel her
mouth and throat struggle to get more him.  The warmth of her mouth was a
wet heaven.  The slick pocket of her mouth dripping drool onto his cock
felt better the deeper she'd tried to go on him.  For her efforts there
were abrupt gack and gurk noises that came as she pushed for each inch.

   "Oooh" Dwayne sighed.  "That's it baby.  Work that big black dick into
your throat.  Work for every inch."

   She pressed her lips together to slap more spit onto the flesh.  She was
nearing the halfway point on Dwayne's cock, and tears were already
beginning to form on the edges of the red head's eyes and she became short
of breath.  Oh my god, and I thought Samson's cock was huge.  Before she
found herself needing to gasp for air, she pulled back from Dwayne's now
fully erect dick.  Wet strings of spit followed her pursed lips as she
jutted back.

   "Oh God!" she blurted.  "This thing should be classified as a deadly
weapon".

   "That an awesome start for a warm up though baby" complimented Dwayne.
"That throat you got just needs to relax and stretch a bit more.

   Sammy appraised her work.  She'd succeeded in getting Dwayne hard, and
seeing his cock hard and wet made her moistened gash quiver with
excitement. The longer she stared at it, the more her curiosity churned to
see if she could really take on something that big.  She noticed that the
wet traces formed a path where her mouth had stopped just shy of the
halfway mark, the untouched regions being dry.

   Seeing the dry parts angered her somewhat.  She wanted Dwayne's big
black cock to be smothered in her spit.  Smothered down to the balls, she
thought.  Jenny said it was the best way.  She could have simply spat in
her hand and gotten it wet by jacking him off, but Sammy felt that method
would in effect be cheating, and would much rather prefer the challenge of
getting him fully down her tight little throat, or at least give it a hard
effort.  The playful deviant inside Sammy found herself wanting to
experiment with how long exactly Dwayne was.  She took her other hand, and
brought it up to Dwayne's chiseled lower abs.  She took a moment to
appreciate the firm lines of his body before sliding the free hand down
further to beginning part of Dwayne's cock.  She did her best to enclose
her hand around the meat, her fingers not being able to connect in a full
ring it was so thick.  Near the equivalent in girth to a Pringles can she'd
have guessed.

   "I wonder how many hands this thing would make", she said playfully. 
Her eyes took on a darker sheen as they shot up to look at the black man's
still smirking face.  She reciprocated the confident smirk with her own,
and it somehow made her features darken.

   "Let's find out then Count", chuckled Dwayne.

   ...

   Sitting at his desk in the front lobby of the gym, Dale Walton stewed.
He was angry at Dwayne for hounding in on his time with Sammy, for
embarrassing him the way he did, and for overall being what Dale thought
was a complete jerk and a showoff.  Above all else however, Dale was angry
with himself.  He was angry at how he'd smothered Sammy the way he did when
she fell off the treadmill earlier.  Indeed it had looked like quite a
spill from his perception, and indeed it had been the considerate thing to
do in running to her rescue.  But the fact he'd played up the `knight in
shining armor" role so hard had made Sammy feel like she was some weak
little thing that couldn't hold a glass of water without help.  He'd been
too considerate, as contradictory as that may have sounded in the boy's
mind.  I know she's tough and all, he thought.  But I really overdid it.

   Overstepped his bounds with the towels and the water and the panicking.
He knew he'd gone overboard with his reaction, and he knew he'd have never
reacted in such a way if it had been anyone else in the gym.  Hell, there
were a few people in the gym who he'd likely pay good money to see take a
good dive on one of the gym machines.  Again Dwayne came to mind.  Dale
sighed in his chair and slumped.

   "I really messed up" he groaned.

   He wanted to find Sammy, to apologize (again) for acting like such a
chauvinist.  Wanted to tell her he thought the world of her, and that he
was well aware that she was a cut above Wonder Woman, but that it just left
him all broken up the thought of seeing her hurt.  He knew how clumsy she
was and just wanted to look out for her.  After another minute or so of
contemplation, Dale abruptly then shot up from his seat.

   "That's it!" He then said aloud.  "I'm gonna go find her and tell her
how I feel."

   Dale's mind was made up.  He'd find Sammy and do what he knew he should
have done ages ago.  He'd apologize for being unnecessarily mocho, and
spill his proverbial guts to her that he acted only out of an impulse of
undying love to the gorgeous redhead.  It didn't matter if she rejected him
or kissed him passionately in response.  Anything would be preferable to
letting his feelings fester silently, slowly driving him mad by inches. 
And with that, Dale bounded from his chair and headed off towards the main
corridor of the Olympian Gym.

   ...

   Sammy then proceeded to count how many hands it took to get from one end
of Dwayne's cock to another.  She counted a steady "1...2...3" each count
marked by the cupping of one hand where the other one ended.  "4...5...6".
The redhead had gotten to six before finally running out of room, with just
enough space left for his bulbous head to poke out towards her.

   "Dang..." She cooed.  "Six hands and then some."

   She spat another slab of spit onto Dwayne's pulsating black cock head
before shoving it back into her mouth.  She was determined to get that
thing all the way down her throat.  She slurped and sucked on it with a
growing intensity.  Dwayne stood firm with his hands on his sides, letting
the feeling of Sammy's tongue massage on his dick overtake him.  The trick
Jenny had taught her worked wonders for her speed, as the lithe redhead's
bobbing motions increased into a rapid pace.  The faster she got, the more
Dwayne would moan.

   "Aghh shit baby!"

   His groans and curses urged her on.  She liked hearing him moan, his
silky voice echoing through the room made her even more wet.  Her
increasingly hard sucking urged Dwayne on to push himself deeper into her
throat.  The steam in the room was still about them in faint patches, but
any significant heat in the room came from the pair of them.  Looking down
Dwayne could still clearly see the hungry look contained in the redhead's
brilliant green eyes.  The feeling of her sucking on his massive cock was
amplified greatly by how sexy the sight of it was.  Her looking up at him
while trying to down his dark rod.  She cooed with each wet pass, and the
gurk sound from her throat grew louder with each new inch.

   "Shit Sammy.  That's what up.  You're doing sooo good.  You're a beast."

   There's that word again, thought the redhead.  Now knowing what the term
meant however, she was rather charmed by it.  Turn on it by the idea of
being a pro at sucking that monster cock.  She raised her left hand up to
underneath Dwayne's cock, and firmly gripped his two enormous testicles. 
She slid the black cock out of her mouth to the head, and ever so gently
placed her teeth against the meat of it.  She growled, making a mock
gesture of a dog or wolf with a piece of raw meat trapped in its jaws. 
Dwayne laughed at Sammy's sense of humor.  Sammy was really having fun with
this.  More fun having sex than she'd ever had before.  In a long wet
motion she lapped Dwayne's large balls with her tongue after hoisting his
massive cock up with both hands.

   "Ah" said Dwayne.  "Workin those arms too huh?"

   "This thing is heavy enough for me to." Replied Sammy in a mischievous
giggle.

   She jacked off the huge throbbing member with both hands, the
accumulated spit lathering it making it easy for the redhead to motion back
and forth on it.  Her shoulder and arm muscles pumped slightly the forward
and backwards gestures.  Dwayne was walking on clouds from the effort.  The
redhead had magic hands.

   "Alright Sammy, now this time let's see you deep throat me."

   Sammy's heartbeat fluttered.  She had wanted to fit the entire thing in
her mouth, but hearing it from Dwayne made the task sound more daunting
than she'd realized.

   "Alright...it's just so big" she said, not wanting to sound like she was
whining, but an apparent worry was carried in her tone.

   "That's alright.  I'll work you through it.  You just gotta push."

   With that Sammy nodded, and opened her mouth wide, her tongue sticking
out in wait for Dwayne to shove his giant cock down her gullet.  Without
another word, Dwayne pushed himself inside Sammy's pretty little mouth.  He
aided her by placing a large powerful hand behind her head, gripping her
fiery hair.  The deeper Dwayne went, the more Sammy's eyes and mouth
watered.  When Dwayne hit the back of her, Sammy could see that she'd
finally reached the halfway point.  I've still got half to get down, she
thought.  She stuck out her pink tongue to make way for it.  She fought the
urge to gag on Dwayne's massive cock as he pushed deeper.  Her stomach
lurched and her ab muscles tightened.  Gotta push, she thought.  Another
long few seconds, and Sammy suddenly felt Dwayne's cock slide down the rest
of her throat, pushing passed her tonsils, uvula, and then far deeper. 
She'd closed her eyes in attempting to shove it further inside, kept her
hands clasped together tightly to fight the urge to pull away, despite the
fact Dwayne's iron grip on the back of her head had already made that
impossible.  She felt it fall into her throat, a sensation of being filled
to the brim, and felt her nose push against the lowest part of Dwayne's
abs.

   "Ugh!  FUCK yeah baby!" Dwayne grunted in triumph.

   She'd done it, and with the knowledge of completion she'd found a second
wind and burst of energy that was even able to force herself to motion her
head left and right slightly, feeling the huge black cock cramped the sides
of her mouth and throat, press down on the full length of her tongue.  The
tip of her tongue could just feel the outer curves of Dwayne's balls he'd
gotten far down into her.  If Dwayne had thought Sammy's hands were magic,
he didn't have the foggiest idea of what sort of sorcery resided in the
redhead's wet throat.  He wanted to come, the contents of his balls begging
to shoot into her.  But after another long moment, Dwayne released his hand
from her neck, and she pulled away in one large wet gasp, Sammy watched as
the full foot of dark meat exited her mouth, and Dwayne's near orgasm
subsided.

   "Jesus!" they both said in unison.

   Sammy could feel the tears running down her face and the lingering lines
of spit dripping from her lips.  Wet saliva and possible traces of bile has
splattered on the floor in front of them.  Sammy ignored it, wanting to
jack Dwayne off more with her hands.  He was properly slick now, and the
sight overjoyed her.  The entire span of his giant pleasure rod was soaked
and shiny with spit.

   "That was incredible Sammy, said Dwayne.

   She ignored the compliment.  Sammy was too fixated on shoving his black
rod back into her mouth and sucking it hard and fast.  The adrenaline rush
from taking it in and holding her breath as it bottomed out her tight
fauces had put her in a near hypnotic state.  Her pussy was wet to the
degree it dripped gently between her legs and onto the floor tiles.  Damn,
where the fuck has this fine bitch been all my life?  Thought Dwayne.

   "You ready for the next part?" asked Dwayne, pulling his dick out her
mouth, and noticed what might have been a slight stirring of anger from the
gorgeous fire haired woman in doing so.

   She looked up at him, her eyes furrowed in a sneer.

   "Give it back." She demanded.

   Dwayne laughed.  "I got something better for you baby.  Come here."

   Using one hand Dwayne helped Sammy to her feet.  He guided her over to
the seating area of the sauna, and gently laid her down on her back, her
legs laying over the edge.  Before he proceeded any further, Dwayne kneeled
down towards Sammy's pussy.  He noticed the sparse dot of pubic hair on her
and knew by the color that she was indeed a natural red head.  He smiled,
and stuck his tongue out while parting her wet quivering pussy lips with
two hands.  Sammy immediately jerked as his tongue sunk into her, teasing
the nerves of her and shooting darts of pleasure upon and down her body. 
He wafted his tongue up and down, slowly.  He then proceeded to go left to
right, and then clockwise.

   "Oh my good god" Sammy howled.  "That's sooo good".

   She felt her body tense, and then release with the approaching orgasm.
Dwayne could feel the seeping liquids from her sweet gash wet his tongue,
and knew as well that Sammy was on the verge of climax.  He lifted one of
her legs up with a strong arm, and held it in place as he lapped faster on
her delicious clit.

   "Don't stop.  That's incredible!"

   Dwayne quickened his pace, and before he knew it Sammy was using both of
her hands to clutch at the black man's head as she squirmed with delight.

   "That's it...I'm-I'm-" her words became choppy with her breath. 
"COMIIIINGGGG!!"

   Sammy writhed in place, her upturn leg squirming as her quivering pussy
leaked a profuse amount of juices across Dwayne's outstretched tongue. 
Sammy didn't even have a chance to recover from the subsiding trimmers of
her orgasm, when Dwayne rose to his feet, and with one hand on Sammy's
ripped stomach and the other still holding the redhead's shaking leg, took
his foot long cock and pushed it into Sammy's wet fuck hole.

   ...

   Dwayne knew the task of shoving his solid foot of hard meat into the
redhead's tight wet opening of (perhaps) three inches or so in length and
width would be a challenge, but it wasn't until brushing the head of it
against her taut outer walls and noting its resistance to give way that he
realized how much of a challenge it would truly be.

   "This is probably the tightest pussy I've ever come across." Dwayne said
as he slowly tried to push his way inside her.  "I can barely get the head
in".

   As he bent forward, hoping the added pressure would aid him, Sammy's
pussy slowly began to spread, the inner muscles relaxing and making way for
Dwayne's immense member to enter.

   "Steve says it is really tight", replied Sammy with a mix of a smile and
a grimace as her parts were stretched way passed familiarity.  "And he's
not carrying a baseball bat between his legs like you are".

   Sammy was becoming impatient.  Dwayne's cock was brushing against the
nerves of her labia, and the shocks of pleasure that it caused was driving
her mad.  She wanted the rest of it in him now!  She took her right hand
and lifted it to Dwayne's left hip, gripping the firm lines of muscle that
led to the V shaped cut on lower abs.  Bravely she pulled him forward ever
so slightly towards her, his cock pushing deeper into her vaginal opening
as a result.  Immediately Sammy flung her head back in a mesh of sudden
pleasure and pressure outlined with faints bits of pain as his cock slipped
another inch, causing her to scream.

   "OH GOD!!" came Sammy in a sharp squeak.

   "There, got the head in" said Dwayne.  "One inch down, eleven more to
go."

   "Are you serious?!"

   "As a heart attack baby.  This pussy is in for a serious workout."

   She hadn't been given a moment to prepare herself for the influx of so
much meat into her untrained pussy.  Now that Dwayne's huge member had
found some ground inside her tight snatch, he drove his hips forward more
confidently to get the rest in.  Sammy was still coming down from that
incredible orgasm Dwayne's had given her with his tongue just moments
before, which was bliss personified as far as she was concerned, and was
only thrown into a deeper ecstasy when a stint of seven greatly thick ebony
inches slid into her with a smooth jut of Dwayne's sculptured lower body.
Her scream echoed throughout the sauna, and her body immediately tensed in
concert with Dwayne's as her wet pussy seeped its juices onto his black
cuddle.

   "OOOOOH!" she scream.  "It's SO BIG!"

   Dwayne aligned his body above hers, his arms placed at the tops of the
sitting area on sides right and left of Sammy's head.  His legs were
outstretched and straight behind him, and he placed all of his weight
between the balls of his feet and his core.  Sammy loved what the act of
his balance did to his stomach muscles, and spread her legs wide to give
him room.  Dwayne in turn loved what the motion did to her body as the firm
muscle lines of her legs and thighs stretched for him.  His abs and upper
body were punctuated by him pulling his hips back, his cock receding to
near the tip just before burying itself deep into her with an audible clap
of balls and hips against soft skin.

   "SHIT!" Sammy cursed in a guttural register.

   Her stomach muscles instantly tightened as she felt the huge black cock
traverse a path through her insides, and didn't stop until it fell into
what Sammy could have sworn was the upper portion of her stomach.  That was
definitely new, she thought.  She'd never felt anything like it before.  To
think all this time Sammy had believed her husband's dick had been delving
into the deepest part of her.  The reality however -as Dwayne had just
proved to the redhead- was that on his best day Steve's dick (rock hard)
couldn't measure up (literally of figuratively) to what Dwayne had just
done in one thrust.

   "Oh my god, I think it's in my stomach." she gasped.

   "Yep" replied Dwayne with a grunt.  "By the time I'm done Im'ma know
exactly what you had for breakfast baby."

   Dwayne repeated the motion, pulling back and then shooting forward again
into her quivering wet pussy.  Each thrust was reward with a deep moan or
curse layered gasp from the gorgeous woman.  The process gradually caused
Sammy's speech to curl into an array of nonsensical grunts, beginning as
words such as "So" and "Big" and "Jesus Dwayne".  As Dwayne leaned forward
and bucked his hips forwards and backwards at a quicker pace -each effort
dipping far into the bowels of Sammy's womb- all knowledge of proper
pronunciation was lost.

   Sammy's heart raced as Dwayne collided into her again and again, every
other smash driving her head long into a quick, but mind numbing orgasm. 
They came back to back, a tingling sensation that started in her pussy and
then spread to the rest of her body.  The several minutes he'd spent
bashing into her pussy could have been one long orgasm as far as she knew.
Dwayne continued to grunt, beads of perspiration beginning to show on his
Adonis like body from his efforts.  Eventually he straightened himself and
placed his large hands on the fabric of her towel and felt her tight
stomach underneath.  He could actually feel his cock rumbling around in her
stomach.

   "Can you feel it?" Sammy purred, looking up to him with a seductive
smile.

   Something had changed in the redhead.  Breaking into her womb had caused
something to break inside her.  Her innocent features had melted away to
present a woman of wanton lust and seemingly insatiable hunger for his
ebony rod.

   Her smile, that natural Glasgow smirk set a fire in him.  Her pussy was
being stretched to its limits, but the look still dared him to go harder,
to go deeper.  No longer able to contain his urges to fuck the beautiful
redhead with more force, he scooped her up with of his strong arms.  She
looked surprised at first, but her shocked expression was soon replaced
with one of pleasure that bordered on delirium.  In one motion he had both
of her legs straddling his ripped sides as he held her in the air, and
furiously he went back to fucking her.  She immediately wrapped her arms
around his well framed shoulders biting down on his left -the area where of
his trapezius muscle- to brace her screams from each impact.  He heard her
mouthing the words,

   "Yes!  Yes!  Yes"

   He pumped upward, deep into her dripping pussy.  Sammy felt Dwayne's
mammoth balls slapping against the wet expanse of her ass.  The added noise
of their bodies slamming together in thick wet claps, small explosions of
skin against skin, near drove her mad with rapture.  Her damp wavy red hair
wafted up and down with each motion, and with only the cloth of her
moistening towel to act a buffer for Dwayne's onslaught, the fiery little
athlete's little pussy was all but defenseless.

   "AGGH yes!" she screamed.  "Fuck me Dwayne!"

   "Yeah!" Dwayne grunted in acknowledgement.

   Jesus, Sammy had thought as a particularly thick inch of Dwayne's cock
hit a deep region of her womb.  Steve would have come twelve times over by
now.  Though the thought of what she was doing registered as one hundred
percent wrong in Sammy's brain, the deep onslaught of Dwayne's cock, and
the questioned of,

   "You feelin this workout bitch!?" that Dwayne asked her, made such
concerns fall further back into the area of her mind labeled
"after-thoughts and other nonessential items".  All Sammy could bring
herself to say, all she could bring herself to think was,



   "FUCK YEAH!  I LOVE THIS BIG BLACK NIGGER COCK!"

   ...

   Dale had spent the better part of twenty searching for Sammy.  He'd
checked every room twice before he thought to make his way to the girl's
locker room.  He had wanted to avoid the area, for fear of him being dubbed
a pervert or a peeping tom should one of the old biddies in there see him
and get the wrong idea.  He had quietly poked his head into the locker
room, to find the place was unoccupied and completely empty.  He'd started
to think that perhaps he'd missed her.  That perhaps Sammy had finished her
workout a bit earlier than he'd expected, and had walked out at some point
during his search.  The thought pained him, for he truly wished to see her.


   "Dang" Dale murmured to himself.  He had even checked the sauna first
some time before his decision to find her.  The only person who had been in
there was Dwayne, who he had no desire to be around.  Dale was standing in
the hallway, genuinely about to give up on his mission, when he thought he
heard a noise of some kind coming from down the hall.  He'd been wrapped up
in his own thoughts and wondering if whether or not he'd pick up on his
confession tomorrow when Sammy came in, if he'd have the nerve to do it the
next day.  He stood there for a moment, ears perked up and listening for a
follow up noise.  Just when he'd concluded the sound to be one of the other
gym goers, he'd heard it again.  This time it was clearly coming from
further down the hall, and it most definitely a woman's voice.

   More importantly, it was a woman's voice who Dale had recognized.  Of
all the spills and tumbles, missteps and trips he'd heard Sammy utter and
shout over the years, he'd never heard one quite like that before.  He
known it was her from the very beginning, but the tone of the shout was
something very different than anything he'd heard before.  There was
something about it, a particular pitch and undertone.  Dale walked towards
the source of the noise, his ears up and his eyes on the alert to pinpoint
the spot where Sammy had undoubtedly fallen.  His steps eventually guided
him towards the end of the long corridor, and on some strange unknowable
level, Dale prepared himself for an as of yet unnamable blow.

   ...

   Dwayne was pounding Sammy with as much force as his standing position
would allow.  It was apparently more than enough for the gorgeous redhead,
since she'd just come down from riding the wave of what had already been a
small series of orgasms.  He could feel her pussy beg for more meat -
despite how thick and overwhelmingly long it was - as it seeped sweet warm
juices down his balls and thighs.

   "Oh-god, ooh-go, ooooh gawd!" was all she could bellow between thrusts.

   "That's it baby, work through it.  Get it!

   Sammy was on the verge of yet another orgasm.  She'd stopped counting
some time ago, as the angle and force from Dwayne's body and monster cock
had stretched her tiny gash to the point she thought it would rip her in
two.  She looked down to see herself held in the arms by the powerful
negro. His abs flexed from exuded force, while hers did so in defense
beneath her towel with each thrust the muscled black gave her.  Looking at
the sweat forming across his sculptured body made her drip.  He was working
hard so that she'd keep cumming hard.  He was performing above and beyond
the call of duty from how her body felt.

   When Dwayne felt his own climax approach, he abruptly stopped, and
pulled out of her.  Traces of her bodily fluids coated his cock, and
immediately upon its release Sammy dropped to both knees, took the black
piece back into her mouth, and furiously began face-fucking herself with
it. All the while she made loud near growling noises and her head rapidly
bobbed forwards and backwards.  My pussy tastes delicious off Dwayne big
nigger cock, she thought.  When she finally pulled Dwayne's huge member
from her greedy maw, her chin surrounding area of her lips were shiny with
new spit and the lingering remains of her sweet secretions.

   "Mmmm, tastes so good off your chocolate cock..." she purred.

   Dwayne laughed.

   "You like that baby?  I knew you had the freak in you."

   This bitch is totally cock crazy, he thought.  I love it.

   "You ready for the next part of the workout?" He asked while looking
down at her.

   I know I am, but I'm not sure my pussy is, she thought.

   Sammy enthusiastically nodded her head in an excited yes.

   "Alright, bend over there" he said, nodding for her to turn around onto
the seating area.

   Sammy slowly turned and placed both her hands against upper part of the
seat.  She bent over and placed one toned leg onto the seat and arched her
back.  The motion made her exposed ass cheeks spread and revealed the sweet
pink slit that waited in between them.  Seeing it instantly sent another
strong pulse of blood to Dwayne's raging hard on.  The way she propped her
ass up into the air reminded him of a cat when it stretched, and her
chesire-cat like smile didn't aided the comparison.  Without another word
he approached her.  A silent fever rose inside the room.  Sammy's perfect
slit was waiting for Dwayne.  He took one hand and cupped a single firm ass
cheek, spreading it to the side to make room for him.  His other hand
rested on Sammy's opposite hip.  Her towel -which somehow hadn't been
fucked off of her yet- ended just at her hips.  The position she was in
exposed her delicious underside in its entirety.

   "Just go slow ok", said Sammy, the first hint of nervousness creeping up
from her throat as she felt Dwanye's massive head rubbed against the outer
part of her pussy.  She knew this position would be the scary one.  Dwayne
would be in complete control, and thus far her pussy had been manhandled by
that beast he wielded.  He was teasing her, slowly waving the bulbous golf
ball sized head up and down along her entrance to make her crazy.  Finally,
Dwayne aligned his cock with her sweet opening, and pushed himself inside.



   "Got damn" grunted Dwayne.  "You'd think after all that your pussy would
be easy to get into by now.  This shit's still tight a fuck.

   Sammy turned her head and looked behind her at the strong black stud
coyly.

   "Oh really?"

   "Yep, I'mma have to put in work double time on it."

   "Don't go easy on me" she giggled as Dwayne aligned his long cock with
her opening.

   Give it to me nigger, I can take it...I think, came the voice in Sammy's
head.

   In a gnashing of teeth and forceful plunge of his hips, Dwayne shoved
himself back into Sammy.  Getting the head was still a bit of a chore, but
once she took that first inch Sammy shuttered as the rest of her black bull
slipped inside her.

   "Mmmmm..." she groaned, Biting her bottom lip as she felt her insides
get barreled into.  "So much COCK...".

   "What's wrong baby, hubby don't give you dick like this at home"
chuckled Dwayne, gripping the firm shapely orbs of Sammy ass.

   "Hell no" replied Sammy.  "Not even close, ugh!"

   "Too bad for him, the lining in this pussy `bout to get fucked right
out."

   "Oh no!" came the redhead as Dwayne punched his hips forward.

   "UGGGH!" he bellowed before upping his speed and pulling Sammy back and
forth onto his dick harder.

   ...

   Dale stood just outside the door of the gym steam room.  Again, he'd
heard screams and talking coming from beyond the threshold.  He hadn't been
able to clearly make out the words, but there was grunting involved, and
quite a few cuss words to boot.  Against his better judgment, Dale looked
through the small glass window on the door.  He couldn't see much, the
plumes of steam were obscuring his vision, and the angles one could get on
the room's interior were limited.  Dale shifted his head left to see -with
the best of visual ability- nothing.  He shifted his head to the right, and
saw a particularly dense mass of steam wafting through the room.  After a
moment, Dale realized it was dense, because of the dark body that stood
amidst it.

   It must have been of the steam, because Dale could have sworn the body
was stark naked, the bare ass of the figure facing him.  The steam curled
and coiled around the body, and after a few more moments cleared up just
enough to show more of the towering figure.  He'd seen those muscles
before. Remembered them from the locker room.  Granted it hadn't been in
the manner that Dale was currently observing, the back and hips pumping
back and forth with a significant amount of effort based on the beads of
sweat that were rolling down his back.  Dwayne was busy and up to something
in there, and Dale's heart immediately sunk when a bit more of the steam
cleared.

   First he saw a leg.  A trim, curvy whitish pink one with immaculate tone
lines and muscle definition.  Then he saw the peculiar angle of what Dale
knew from his collection of skin magazines and his secret collection of a
adult DVD's as a female vagina, a pretty and -currently- very much occupied
one getting stuff with a man part that Dale would have better suited on a
prize race horse rather than a human being.  Then he saw the other leg,
hefted up onto the seating bench inside the room.

   Dale gulped nervously, a part him not wanting rest of the steam to clear
away and expose the upper half of who it was Dwayne was putting a
particularly intense pounding on.  And of course, answering his call, the
steam cleared further to show an immaculately curved torso and upper body,
concealed only by a single clothing article consisting of a mid sized towel
that was coming undone with each hard crash from Dwayne as he thrusted into
her.  And lastly, the lingering few swirls parted around the woman's face,
revealing a wanton, decadent, and ravishing beauty of a woman.  Dale knew
that face, but more effectively from the fiery red head of hair that wafted
wetly in the steamy room with hard forward and backwards motions that could
only come from two bodies colliding into each other.  He'd memorized every
line, curve, and flawless angle.  He'd created a thousand different
scenarios and hosted hundred of hazy daydreams that consisted of looking
into the brilliant green eyes that were now staring back at Dwayne with a
ravenous hunger and insatiable lust.  He didn't even want to give her a
name now, couldn't bring himself to even think of her name after seeing
this.

   All Dale could do was look on in fascination, hurt, shock, disgust, and
a peppering of anger at the sight of Dwayne -biggest asshole in the
universe- engaging his long time heartthrob Samantha Spitzmen in what he
could only define as the hardest and -despite his self loathing at
acknowledging the act as such- most intense looking position of doggy style
he'd ever seen.



   ...

   Dwayne's cock bent at the halfway point inside Sammy's defenseless
pussy, but held firm in between her taut ass cheeks.  The position of her
upturned ass clamped down on every inch it could before it bottomed out
completely.  Her tight and toned bubble butt threw him into frenzy.  The
redhead's chaotic groans and sensual grunts had only reaffirmed how much he
wanted to gut her pussy.  She was writhing now, and had actually worked up
the nerve to start pushing her ass back a little with each thrust to let
him know she wanted him deep in her, and loved every inch he had to give
her.  Her face was contorted in a grimace hinting of pleasure and pain, her
white teeth exposed from the effort.  Dwayne sped up.  The increased pace
created audible claps as Dwayne's huge balls swung and hit against Sammy's
underside.  The force of it felt like baseballs were getting slapped
against her skin.



   "OH GOD, OH GOD!  YOU'RE GONNA BREAK MY PUSSY DWAYNE!" she writhed.

   He fucked her harder, wanting to put that theory to the test.  Sammy's
pussy was incredibly warm.  A tight pocket of summer that made him yearn to
bury his dick down to the balls and call it his home.  The steam in the
room was now no longer just steam, but the body heat of their efforts as he
gave and Sammy gladly took.  Dwayne know that if he continued he was going
to nut, and likely drown the woman with the contents of swelled balls. 
Sammy was coasting on the constant waves of pleasure.  Let them sail her to
a series of intense orgasms.  The impacts from Dwayne's solid body drove
her insane.  She absolutely loved getting fucked by him, and she discovered
she had a particular fancy for doggy style, where she could be completely
dominated.  Jenny was right, Sammy thought.  Black Cock is the way to go.
She didn't know how long they'd been going at it, but Dwayne's pace hinted
that he was nowhere near spent.  He hadn't even cum yet, a prospect which
somewhat frustrated her.  She knew Dwayne could fuck for hours, and she
loved that.  She knew Dwayne's cock was more than enough to satisfy her, as
her multiple orgasms had strongly proven.  Now she caught herself wondering
how his semen tasted.  If it was as good as Jenny had made it seem, she was
bound and determined to find out...after she got her fill of Dwayne
pounding her brains out of course.

   "Now, time to show me what you got in you" said Dwayne as he suddenly
stopped smashing into her guts with his humungous dark pipe.  He wiped a
bit of sweat off of his face and took a seat nearby.

   "Let's see how well you ride" he said.

   Sammy turned, her knees shaking from the lingering effects of her last
orgasm.  She wiped beads of sweat from her own face.  Fucking nigger dick
is a real workout, she thought.  She was hot, and the room's temperature
hadn't been tampered with in some time.  It was just idle streams of steam
that was coming from the cauldron.  She was sweaty, glistening from the
intense cardio session Dwayne was giving her.

   "Ok..." she said with a smile.

   She approached him, but before she came into contact with him she untied
the top part of her towel, unclasped it from its folded areas around her
large perky breasts, and let it drop to the ground near her feet.  Dwayne
lay propped up on his elbows on the bench, his ass half hanging off the
edge and his cock standing high and proud at attention before her.  She
still couldn't believe she'd managed to take something so massive inside
her.  Fully erect it looked like it could equate to a baby's full arm in
length and girth (with probably more to spare).  He took a long moment to
appraise the gorgeous redhead's glistening body, all the muscles and curves
of her perfect form on display.

   "Goddamn baby, you're a goddess." He smirked, and she shot him back one
in return.

   Sammy giggled and came closer to Dwayne, and lifted one leg over him
that she straddled him.

   "Thank you.  I try" She said in return.

   "More than try, you succeed gorgeous."

   Sammy blushed.  Awww, he's sweet too, she thought.  She then leaned
forward and kissed him passionately.  A long moment went by, with both
their lips connected and their tongues lapping together at the intersection
of their mouths.  The kiss was deep, with both participants pressing hard
into one another, knowing that neither side would relent for the other. 
When their mouths came away, a thin trail of spit appearing like a minature
tight wire between them, wearing his now infamous smirk Dwayne said,

   "Now give me some more of that good pussy."

   "Now, time to show me what you got in you" said Dwayne, wiping a bit of
sweat off of his face and taking a seat nearby.

   "Let's see how well you ride."

   Sammy turned, her knees shaking from the lingering effects of her last
orgasm.

   "Ok..." she said with a smile. Without another word, Sammy reached behind her with her right arm, and
gripped the shaft of Dwanye's dark baton.

   ...

   Until that moment, Dale wouldn't sworn that what he was witnessing was a
crime in the making.  He'd have sworn to the image of Dwayne having sex
with -no- brutally pounding Sammy beyond what he thought ever to be
possible between man and woman was a vile case of rape happening in front.
He'd have sworn that Dwayne -being the muscle bound jerk that he was- had
forced himself on Sammy, HIS dearest Sammy, and violently pushed his
gigantic man parts into her against her will.  Dale hadn't moved, despite
his outrage.  He knew barging in and trying to stop the huge intimidating
negro would have been the heroic thing to do...but Dale's more cautious
side had deeply advised against it.  Dwayne was a reputed martial arts
expert, on top of having more muscle mass in his left bicep than Dale
probably had in his entire upper body.  Dwayne would pop his head like a
zit if he ever tried to take a swing at him.  Maybe put him in that danged
triangle lock he'd shown him once online from one of his barbaric cage
fights.  A crime was what he'd have sworn was going on.

   That had to be it.  For not in a million years would the Sammy he knew
ever willing do something like...THAT with another man besides her husband.
And even then Dale couldn't (or rather wouldn't) picture Sammy being
capable of appearing so...so...Dale couldn't fill the empty space with a
fitting word.  So -animalistic- during the act.  Looking at her current
state, her sweaty body and the intense almost feral glare that was captured
in her normally gentle facial features, it wasn't at all like the Samantha
he'd known.  And yet...it was when Dwayne stopped brutishly pounding his
beloved that the word rape suddenly was erased from the equation.

   Now Dale wasn't at all personally versed in, nor had he ever bore
witness to such an account, but last time he'd checked, women didn't stop
to take off their own towels before their attackers during an attempted
rape.  They didn't run a hand through their hair seductively, unraveling
the tangled ends as their attacker calmly took a seat and caught his breath
nearby them.  Women who were being raped didn't climb on top of their
attacker, and as far as Dale knew they certainly didn't grab their
attacker's -notably huge- swollen cock and position it near their lady
parts after spreading it with two wet fingers.

   And most caustic of all to Dale, the most damning and damaging image of
the scene, was the fact that...women who being raped didn't often take it
amongst themselves to kiss their attackers.  Hell, he hadn't seen loving
couples kiss as passionately as those two currently were even in the movies
he'd seen.  The sight hurt Dale.  Cut him deep down in his chest.  It made
his heart drop down to his stomach, where it wanted to curl up in itself
and rot.

   But watching Sammy then lower herself onto Dwayne and that wholly
unnatural third arm he had stood up high like a flag pole made Dale's own
member harden, its full five inches straining on the inside of his pants.
She's really gonna put that thing in her, thought the blonde boy.  He
wanted to turn away, wanted to turn and run from the sick ritual of his
cherished Sammy's sullying at the hands of that black bastard.  He wanted
to...but his feet didn't move.  They were frozen in place and his face
never quite got around to turning away.  Dale's cock was moving though. 
Stirring in his pants as it became rock hard, and nearly came -hands free-
before Sammy even managed to nestle the humungous black cock head between
her hot pink pussy lips.

   ...

   "Here it goes..." she said, sliding the fat head up to sweet hole, and
shoving it back into her.

   She would be in control this time, and the thought made her nervous as
well as excited.  If Sammy had known how much fun fucking black cock was,
she'd have told Steven to take a hike a long time ago.  She'd have most
certainly kept him around as a friend she thought, but it wouldn't have
been much more than that.  All the words of caution that had come from
Sammy's sister Roberta, her grandmother's warnings about staying away from
the blacks in town, the council from her peers and elders to keep her steps
far away from N-Town would have been balled up and chucked away in the part
of her mind labeled "nonsensical bullshit".  As Sammy's perfect pink pussy
lips spread to accommodate Dwayne's huge black cock, she wondered to
herself if Bobbie Sue even knew what big black cock was like.  In order to
keep her cover - she didn't want others thinking badly about her still- she
wouldn't ask her to her face, but it was something to ponder.  If only
Bobbie Sue and the other women in her family knew how good big nigger dick
was, she doubted their opinions on black men would be as negative.



   His mouth dropped, and hands came up to the window in an unconscious
motion to push the door open.



   "OH...OH...OHHH!" was all Sammy could squeak out as the dark rod
penetrated her.

   "That's right baby, push yourself on that dick."

   "Jesus Christ!" she bellowed.  It was difficult for the redhead to push
herself down on it.  Her pussy was naturally small, and it struggled to
accept her partner's god sized bludgeon.

   She took it until her tight pussy bottomed out, and again she felt her
insides stuffed with inches upon inches upon more inches of rock hard ebony
goodness.

   "Now move up and down on it", Dwayne said.

   Sammy lifted her taut bubble butt, and then brought it back down as far
as she could on Dwayne's dick.  After three or four deep dips onto his
chocolate stick, Sammy could feel her juices slicking the steely shaft.

   "Good, that's good Sammy" Dwayne encouraged.  "Just like that baby, push
for every inch of it."

   Sammy looked down to Dwayne, who had his arms comfortably folded behind
his head.  She liked that Dwayne allowed her to take control.  Even though
he was in effect giving instruction on how take such a massive member, he
wasn't such a control freak that he felt the need to physically guide her
using his hands, or take the flow of their fucking away from her by bucking
himself upwards into her.  Thank goodness for that, Sammy thought.  He
pulls me down any further on this monster and he'll split me in half.  And
Sammy moved, up and down at an even pace at first, allowing her body to
acclimate to its new heights.  When she got comfortable with the amount of
cock she slid down on, she boldly began thrusting her hips harder.

   Her previous experiences with riding Steve's cock came as no help when
taking on Dwayne.  Steve's penis (a fair size she once thought) was buried
to the hilt whenever she'd be on top.  In the forty seconds it took to make
him climax, Sammy could shake and shift her hips forwards and backwards
with almost complete free control and motion of her body.  Her muscles
could easily handle such a feat, and her speed knocked Steven down for the
count with even less effort.  Dwayne on the other hand was a completely
different.  On top of his humungous man part, Sammy could barely move her
ass up and down at half speed.  Dwayne's cock was so long that it kept her
from upping her pace, each stroke requiring full control of her ass and
hips.  She could go from the head, down to little further than the half way
point, and back up again.  She couldn't chance taking the whole thing, and
when she arched her back and looked down to her own ass, she saw that it
was a very long way down to Dwayne's large balls that swung proudly beneath
her.

   "Speed up baby, you can take it" whispered Dwayne in his silky tambour.

   "OK" said Sammy without question.  She knew it'd be difficult, her body
already glistening with sweat from her labors, but she had to try.  Sammy
Spitzmen was gonna push hard and fuck that big black dick with everything
she had.  She placed her hands on Dwayne's hard stomach and chest, propped
her ass up to the tip of Dwayne's cock, and swiftly began to bounce her ass
up and down on it.  Her speed was incredible, and Dwayne began to groan
with pleasure.  Sammy's ass was a tight, toned, heart shaped mass.  It was
very round and looked simply exquisite as it motion up and done in
conjunction with her shapely back and sculpted thighs.  To get a better
glimpse of the feet, Sammy shifted her upper half to the right, and turned
her head look at her own ass.

   My ass looks so good riding Dwayne, she thought.

   She could feel the pulse and throbbing from Dwayne's cock inside her,
and knew that it was a sign that he agreed as well.  Added as proof to his
approval Dwayne took a hand and cupped one of Sammy's ass cheeks.

   "Ohhh shit ya.  Move that fine tight white ass" he purred, a deep
lion-like tone.

   With his encouragement Sammy became brave, and lifted herself up from
forward position.  She brought herself up, back turning into a muscular
arch, and placed her hands on both of Dwayne's knees for support. 
Furiously she then started swinging her hips back and forth on Dwayne's
slippery dong.  Her abs tensed and released rapidly as she used her body to
shift on Dwayne's powerful cock.

   She screamed and grunted, a barrage of curse words spilling from her
mouth as she fought for every inch and did her best to conform to the
incredibly tight fit Dwayne made of her.  She was wrapped in the seemingly
endless shockwave of their bodies scrapping and rocking against one
another. Dwayne slid his hands from behind his head and grabbed two
handfuls of Sammy's vast bouncing bosom.  The act left the redhead on the
verge of melting.  The combined sensations of Dwayne's cock, plus the
feeling of his hands groping her breasts and fondling her sensitive nipples
was maddening.  Dwayne gently twisted and plucked at her nipples, massaged
the soft skin of her breasts, and bunched them together before lifting up
and taking them to his face and mouth.

   "Oh, oh, oh!" she screamed with every thrust.

   They were both lost in one another, driven by sheer animalistic passion
and through the abilities of their fit bodies.

   And it came only as a fleeting afterthought for Dwayne to raise his
chiseled left arm up behind the writing Sammy, and in a single gesture from
his balled fist, outstretched his middle finger towards the window on the
sauna door, where Dale -face stuck in a permanent O of shock- stood and
watched them from the outside.

   ...

   "I'm gonna nut!" Dwayne grunted as his body tightened.

   Sammy was just calming down her most recent -- and by her estimate most
intense -- climax.  Upon hearing Dwayne's signal that he was reaching his
own end, she immediately hopped off of Dwayne's lap.  Her knees hit the
tiles at the same time Dwayne released his first powerful gush of semen
from his dark swollen cock.  Sammy opened her mouth wide and stuck her
tongue by its full length to catch the thick drops of white that shot up
from her black stud like a geyser.  Cum sprayed up in white globs and
rained onto her lips, chin, forehead and both her cheeks, while higher
drops landed in her wavy red hair.  On her taste buds it tasted divine, and
Dwayne's faced contorted into a countenance stupefied by pleasure.

   "AW SHIIIT!" he groaned.

   Sammy used one hand to grab a handful of Dwayne's huge balls.  She could
actually feel the swollen hefty pair pulse as they drained.  She tilted her
face down and took the head back into her mouth.  Furiously she bobbed her
head on the dark pole, swallowing as much of the rich bounty as her mouth
could hold and swallowing it down her throat just as fast.  As it slid into
her body, a epiphany fell upon the energetic redhead.  Gosh, Jenny was
right.  Black cock is amazing, she thought, silently kicking herself for
not doing this sooner.  On the night of their book club meeting, Sammy had
left the Summers' house with a great deal of guilt on her shoulders.  She'd
been skeptical, enticed, aroused and later apprehensive.  She honestly
thought that Jenny had been embellishing details on taking native cock of a
darker persuasion.  The young Samson West had been by far the most
thrilling blowjob she'd ever given, she'd even caught herself being a tad
bit envious of Jenny watching her fuck the young negro with rabid abandon.
And even still, Sammy walked away with a few lingering doubts as to their
prowess.  That was then, and not a week later she was down on her knees,
sucking on the head of giant black cock with skill that made her resemble a
professional.  If you want it...go get it, the beautiful buxom blonde had
told them.  She'd accepted the dare and taken it on.  And lo and behold,
Sammy Spitzmen had finally been let in on the secret, and discovered her
love of big black cock.

   ...



   Another presumed fact crossed Dale's mind as he stood outside the sauna
door; women who were being raped didn't typically drop to their knees and
enthusiastically start swallowing the ejaculating semen of their attackers.
The furious manner in which Sammy bobbed her head up and down on Dwayne's
(unfairly) massive cock looked almost superhuman to the forlorn young man.
It baffled him almost as much as the gigantic load of cum that would
shooting up from the head of Dwayne's cock like a black fountain.  The
first jut of white alone made the orgasm he'd hand some moments before -
the orgasm that had left a solid dark circle on the front of his pants -
seem feeble at best.  Dale was stuck, transfixed moth to flame like with
watching the display.  And despite his innate wanting to be disgusted, he
couldn't help but silently applaud the black bastard and the redheaded slut
that was ardently servicing him.  His entire collection of porn seemed to
lack luster after watching that performance.

   Dale had never come without using his hands before, and the orgasm he'd
had watching the interracial pair had topped virtually all of his other
solo carnal endeavors by several leagues.  The young man was torn between
jealousy, disappointment, and a pervading feeling of sexual arousal.

   "S-sonofabitch..." said Dale.

   Inside he saw the two figures lavish in the waning moments of their
lust. Dale figured he'd best use this chance to get away.  Dwayne had
already seen him, and made a point to let him know as such near the apex of
their fucking.  Dale quickly turned and near sprinted to the men's locker
room.  Despite all he'd seen, most likely because of what he'd seen, Dale
couldn't bring himself to face Sammy.  It hurt too much to think about it,
but somehow the blow was numbed by the memory of how hard his orgasm was
watching her.  Can't let her see me, he thought.  Dale raced down the
hallway and threw himself into the men's locker room.

   ...

   Some time later, Sammy Spitzmen had finished her second shower of the
day.  The hot water was heaven on her skin, and she was so thoroughly
relaxed that she didn't mind having to use several extra applications of
shampoo to get all of Dwayne's cum out of her hair.  Reflecting on how it
dripped down her skin, how it glazed her face and rolled down her neck and
tits made her horny for more.  Even then she could feel the onset twinge of
desire set on her well beaten lady parts.  That was soooo good, she
thought. Back in the sauna Sammy had told Dwayne as such.

   ...

   "Definitely was baby.  I'll definitely have to be sure to up my protein
before next time.  F'I wasn't trained, you'd be wearin a nigga out."

   "Next time?" said Sammy, her green eyes illuminating at the thought.

   "Oh yeah, we're definitely gonna have to make this a regular thing",
Dwayne had said while rising to his feet.  "As your new trainer, it only
makes sense we meet up at least a few times a week to keep your body lookin
right."

   Sammy beamed at the thought of taking on Dwayne again.

   "Ha-ha, I can't wait." She giggled.

   Sammy rose to her feet, but failed to notice the towel she'd taken off
was right in her path.  The abrupt slide of the towel on the tiles caused
her to slip backwards and fall hard on her butt just before the cauldron.
There was wet smack and an even louder clatter of an object hitting the
ground.

   "Ouch, dang it!" cursed Sammy.

   "We should probably work in some balance training while we're at it" he
said while placing a hand on his head in embarrassment for the girl.

   ...

   Sammy was embarrassed by the third little spill she'd taken, but was
coasting too joyously on the knowledge of future workouts to really care.
Her clumsiness had landed her onto something monumental.  It made her smile
to think that she'd be meeting with Dwayne regularly from now on.  Her
workout routine would have a whole new layer of excitement.  On her way out
of the gym after she'd thoroughly cleaned herself and gathered her things,
she noticed Dale was sitting at his desk.  He was giving her the strangest
look.  His eyes were two big blue softballs stuffed inside a pale white
ghost face.

   "You okay Dale?" she asked.

   "Y-yeah", squeaked the blonde boy.

   "You sure, you look really pale."

   Dale grumbled something under his breath, though Sammy wasn't able to
make sense of any of the words besides `dark'.



   "What was that?"

   "Oh, nothing" said Dale, trying to force a smile for her sake.  "I...I
guess I'll see you later this evening then?  Turns out the boss caved and
decided to give me more hours."

   "That's great Dale.  I'm not coming back for my second workout though.
After the workout I had today, I'm plum worn out."

   "Ha-ha" Dale laughed nervously.  Yeah, three feet a cock'll leave anyone
tuckered out I'd bet, thought Dale in a silent bite on envy.

   "I'll see you later though" said Sammy before striding out the front
door.

   Dale thought he should have confronted her.  Confessed to her, shook her
by the shoulders and told her he'd seen her and that bastard Dwayne in the
locker room.  Demanded an explanation of why and how could she do that him,
to her husband Steve.  That he knew her to be far above such behavior.  But
despite the voice screaming in his head to do what he felt was the noble
thing, he didn't.  Because, came the tinnier voice that sat in the dark
regions of his mind.  Because, if you tell her you know, she'll no doubt
leave the gym.  And if she leaves the gym, she won't...Dale had to cut
himself off from completing the thought, uncertain of what it would say
about him and his own standing as a man if it were allowed to be completed.


   It was well into the afternoon hours when Sammy Spitzmen finally
returned to her home.  She was, in every way conceivable, exhausted.  She
barely made it passed the doorway before dropping her duffel bag
unceremoniously onto the floor.  She trudged up the stairs at just shy a
snail's pace, and collapsed into her bed just as the last bit of her energy
had given out.  Screw the other house chores, she thought.  When the house
phone rang she ignored it, choosing the allow the answering machine to do
the work for her.  Sammy received two phone calls.  The first was from
Ivana.

   Sammy?  Sammy it's Ivana.  Look, something last minute came up at work
today.  Not sure how long its gonna hold me up, but it looks like I'm going
to have to skip out on our workout tonight.

   "Fine by me..." grumbled Sammy face down in the pillows.

   I know I know.  No pain, no gain and all that.  I can feel you pouting
from here.  You know I wouldn't cancel on you if there weren't an
absolutely good reason for doing so, so trust me when I say I'm onto
something massive over here.  I'll explain later.  Make it up to you next
week.  Talk to you later dear.

   The second message was from Sammy's husband Steve.

   Hey sweetheart!  Weird, I'm not used to you not answerin the phone.

   The last thing Sammy planned on doing for the next while was moving, so
she simply remained motionless in bed.

   Anyway, looks like I'll be gettin home a few hours early today.  Don't
know about you, but after a hot shower and a good meal I think I'll be
ready to make up for a little uh...lost time, if you catch my drift. 
Ha-ha, see you in little bit honey.  Bye.

   That's not happening, thought Sammy.  If Steve tried having sex with her
now, even if Sammy weren't completely wiped out, he'd definitely know
something was up.  Sammy knew that even after her body finally recovered,
it would take a hell of a lot more time for her pussy to shape back down to
Steve's size...if ever again.  No, her and her husband wouldn't be getting
into anything remotely steamy that night, that was for damn sure.  She'd
lay there, face flat on her soft pillows, and reflected yet again on the
incredible events of the day.  If she were going to keep up this pace,
she'd have to be sure to stock up on workout recovery drinks on her next
visit to the market.  She let the images parade through her mind and lull
her into a hazy sleep.  And the last thought to cross her mind before
drifting off into a much deserved slumber was,

   Wait til the girls hear about this...