Eric
The first time I saw Kara’s pretty little ass walk into my gym, I knew she was a fucking winner. But even I couldn’t have predicted that she would be this fucking good.
Ever since she signed on to model for my brand, Kara has thrown herself into things completely. She’s lifting harder, eating better, and squatting more every day. I’m watching her body change right before my eyes—and wrapped around my cock, too, as often as I can coax her onto it.
The only person I’ve ever met who works as hard as I do is Chase, and there’s definitely something wrong with that muscle-bound son of a bitch. But now, Kara makes three of us—and with a trio as good looking as us, as driven as us, and as amazing at sex as we are, I’ve never been more fucking confident in my life.
We could take over the world together—Kara, Chase, and I. But for now, I’ll settle for conquering the international fitness community—and as much Kara as I can fucking get.
I’m beginning to think I’m actually falling for this girl, which is fucking ridiculous, because I never fall for anyone. I know Chase feels the same.
We’re competitive bastards in and out of the bedroom, but when it comes to Kara, she’s the one thing that we’ve agreed we can’t compete over.
Even though I fucking know I make her come harder. What can I say? With a body like hers, it’s hard not to keep score.
I’ve had my housekeeper scrub my house spotless for Kara’s visit today. I’m not calling it a fucking date, because it’s not one—it’s strictly business between Kara and me today.
We need to talk strategy, areas of focus—her strengths, her weaknesses, and we need to figure out a talent for her to do.
I’m not seeing a woman of Kara’s caliber reduced to launching ping pong balls out of her snatch like some kind of cheap peep-show girl. She’s a classy bitch, and she deserves a classy routine that can really show the world what she’s made of—in her clothes or completely out of them.
If I’m being honest with myself, though, I was sure to shave extra close this morning anyway—even if this isn’t a date. If there are two things in this world that are sure to get my blood pumping, it’s scheming and her.
And when Kara’s around, my blood is usually only pumping in one direction. So once we get business out of the way…well. I’m sure she’d love to feel how silky the sheets are on my king-sized bed.
I kiss her when she comes in—I’m a businessman, but I’m not a fucking eunuch. Obviously, I’m going to get my hands all over her as much as I possibly can. It’s just not in my character to miss an opportunity to take advantage.
“How come when I’m with you, I always end up so fucking sweaty?” she asks, throwing a fist at the punching bag downstairs in my home gym.
She’s got a good right hook, but even as I hold the bag for her, it’s not enough to shift me out of my stance.
“I guess I must be good at getting you all hot and bothered,” I joke, letting her take another swing.
She’s getting fucking strong, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t into it. Our little Kara is getting some muscles on those slender arms of hers. Unsurprisingly, it suits her.
“I think you just like putting me through my paces,” she flirts back. “Walk me through this pageant thing again. First, I lift weights, right?”
“Wrong,” I correct her. “Parade first. You’ll be walking the stage with women from all over the country—completely nude, of course, save for heels.”
“Piece of cake,” Kara assures me. “I’ve walked scarier runways. Then there’s the weights.”
“Also nude,” I remind her. Christ, the image of Kara squatting heavy weight with that pretty little cunt flashing at the crowd gets me hard every time I think about it. “You’ll lift as much as you can—but it’s more about form, physique, and looking good while you’re doing it. Shouldn’t be a problem. You’re improving every day.”
“Then the talent portion,” Kara muses. “Also totally nude, I know. But I’ve got nothing for that as of yet—unless taking two cocks at once counts as a talent. Wait…does it?”
I laugh at her, and she takes an especially hard swing at the punching bag. It’s fucking cute, the way she tries and fails to throw me off balance.
“It would win you points with the viewers, if nothing else,” I admit. “We’ll think more on that later, though. How’s your public speaking? The last portion of the pageant is the speech.”
“Ugh,” Kara groans. “I’m dreading that part. I never did like talking in front of crowds.”
“Completely nude,” I remind her. “It’s your chance to let your personality shine.”
“Yeah, that sounds like something out of one of my recurring nightmares.” Kara laughs. “Plus, my personality’s shit.”
“It’s not,” I reassure her. “You’re perfectly charming…when you want to be.”
Admittedly, when she swings at the bag that time, she knocks it hard enough into my chest that I finally feel it.
Who am I kidding? I’m fucking falling for this girl, and I know it, too.
After our workout, I cook us dinner. I’m worried that Kara doesn’t fucking eat enough—she’s tried every crackpot diet on the market, and frankly, it’s fucked her perception of food a little bit.
“Pasta? Really?” Kara says, eyeballing the spaghetti noodles on her plate.
“With olive oil, garlic, aaaaand…” I grate a little Pecorino on top. “Cheese. Eat up. I’m an excellent chef.”
“That’s like, ten different things that I’m not allowed to eat, Eric,” she says, staring the plate down.
Breaks my fucking heart that she doesn’t think she’s allowed to enjoy herself like that—but fuck if I’m letting her go on thinking that way.
“You need the fuel, Kara,” I say, pushing the plate a little closer to her. “If you want to work out with me, you need to eat something substantial afterward. Non-negotiable.”
“But the calories…” Kara bites her lip, looking uncertain.
“You need calories,” I inform her. “And nutrients. And you ought to fucking enjoy them, too. That’s an order.”
“Is it, now?” Kara says. Her voice is doing that sultry thing again. Makes my cock even harder. “And what if I don’t, Daddy?”
I lean in nice and close until I can feel her holding her breath.
“Then you don’t get any fucking dessert,” I growl.
“Will you take me over your knee?”
“Oh, Kara.” I chuckle darkly. “I’ll be doing that tonight no matter what.”
With the thought of another orgasm and a nice, hard spanking in mind, Kara relents. I love watching her eat—she really savors her food. Moans the whole way through the meal, too. Little slut.
I push a Protein Plus shake her way for dessert—because I know she fucking loves the things. This one is Pump-kin Spice. If she was moaning her way through the pasta course, she’s having a full fucking orgasm as she drinks down every last drop.
“God,” Kara pants, slamming the empty bottle down on the table. “I swear, those things are too fucking good to be real.”
“I think you just like them for the special ingredients,” I joke—even though, hell, that seems to be the only reason women like them.
“I think I’m still hungry, Daddy,” Kara coos, getting a wild fucking look in her eye.
“Have you licked your plate clean?”
Fluttering her eyelashes at me, Kara dips her tongue down to the olive oil still on her plate and gives it a long, lingering lick.
My cock salutes her effort through my sweatpants. She’s made me hard, she’s done a hell of a workout, and she’s even eaten my cooking.
“I’d say you’ve earned a treat,” I relent, standing.
By the time Kara is on her feet, I’m already around the table, sweeping her up in my arms and carrying her toward my bedroom.
“Is it time for my spanking?” she asks, kicking and giggling the entire way there.
“That’s not a bad place to start.”