I ended up agreeing to this ridiculous answer again. At this rate, I’d think everything he says is right.

“Should I touch it for you?”

“What?”

“You experienced it last time, but I have a sports massage certification. I can loosen up muscles well.”

His fingertips slipped subtly under the edge of my leggings. My face heated up a bit. Even I found it a little funny that I felt embarrassed by this behavior now, but meeting his gaze while he stared down at me, feeling even the direction his body heat moved—I couldn’t help but be embarrassed.

His eyes curved wide as he spread his hand and caressed around my pelvis for a while. Finding that fascinating, I stared blankly again.

“Did you not wear them on purpose?”

His hand was already kneading my b*tt. I nodded slightly, pretending to be innocent. After gripping my b*ttocks fully in his grasp and releasing them, he pulled his hand out and slapped my as$ over the leggings.

“I’ll get a better view today. I was always wondering. Whether you were wet or not.”

My face flushed hot at his words. Even though I’d deliberately taken off my underwear in the changing room, I felt shame at his single comment.

“Get on the carriage. I’ve set the springs to blue. Put your knees against the shoulder rest and…”

I positioned myself following his words. He corrected me here and there, starting with light movements combined with stretching. 

While holding the through bar in front of me with one hand, I had to twist my body to the left and maintain the position.

The carriage, which was the floor, sat on rails with springs attached, so I had to firmly tense my legs to avoid being pulled backward.

Naturally, my thighs came forward and my waist and back angled diagonally backward. He corrected my position from the side, counting one, two, three, and placed his hand on my protruding lower body.

Click. A brief noise came from the spring fixing the through bar colliding. I’d trembled my hand momentarily from surprise. He made a shushing sound with his mouth.

“Focus. Tense your thighs. Keep your waist from bending. Eyes on your back fingertips.”

Unlike his voice that gently rode a melody, the hand attached between my legs found my cl*toris well even over the leggings. It wasn’t a forceful swing. Just a gentle, light touch, exploring quietly.

He counted to eight, and until I repeated the movement once more in the opposite direction, he rubbed below in circles, round and round.

“Rest your head on the headrest and lie down. This movement stimulates the hip joints and is good for flexibility.”

The position was a bit embarrassing. Though lying down, my knees were bent like squatting, and my left leg was spread wide open to the outside. He pulled my knee further outward and quietly looked down at my lower half.

“You’re wet here.”

“Ngh!”

He poked right in the middle.

When I squeezed my eyes shut to focus on the position and opened them, he said the wet area on my leggings was too small.

“Ahng!”

He traced a line down the center. From the cl*toris to where the hole would be. I felt it getting wetter and wetter.

“Do you like hot pink? That’s exactly the color.”

Today’s leggings were a creamy pink tone. Like strawberry milk. But the part he was tracing had become hot pink, he said. I tried to ignore his gaze while releasing the position and hooking the strap on the opposite leg.

I stretched my leg out straight, then bent my knee and lowered only my right leg outward. He counted slowly. From the class room next door, a female instructor’s booming count echoed loudly. You can hold it! You can hold it! The sound of her shouting encouragement too.

Amid those noises, he stripped my clothes off with his hands. Because it was too wet this time, he said.

“The hanging pull-up has a full-body muscle relaxation effect. It’s also good for hip lifts and abs. Straighten your body more.”

It was a position where I gripped the bar crossing the ceiling with both hands, hooked my feet in the straps that came down like handles, and maintained my body horizontally. 

I lowered my b*tt to make my body V-shaped, then repeatedly used my abs to lift only my b*tt and make my body straight. He stood in front of the equipment near my feet and watched the hole gaping open each time I lowered and lifted my b*tt.

The positions grew increasingly difficult. After hanging upside down like a handstand, the movement of splitting my legs front and back required keeping my body straight, and with no wall behind me, I had to endure with only the strength of my arms gripping the straps and my abs.

And what about the leg splits. My br*asts, hanging down in the opposite direction, bounced violently with my slightest movement. The instructor pinched my n*pples and pulled them down a few times, then tapped them upward with his palm like bouncing a ping pong ball on a racket.

Then he climbed onto the fixed carriage and stood in front of me hanging upside down. He spread my plump l*bia between my split legs and fiddled with the exposed flesh inside.

When I flailed my upper body, the metal bar made a creaking sound. 

By now, these small noises sounded loud in this space. All the classes in the center had finished and the instructors had each left their positions. 

My class didn’t end until 12:30, but all other classes finished by 11:50. After that, afternoon classes started at 4 PM, so the morning shift instructors either left work or took break time.

“That’s a relief. I was actually worried it might be torn.”

He said while spreading and stroking the small petals.

“Ahh, obviously more than there… it hurts inside.”

“Did it?”

“I’m fine now though… ngh!”

I tried to protest a bit while maintaining my position but stopped. He started thrusting his finger into the hole. The splashing sound grew embarrassingly loud.

“Then, shall we take a look?”

“What?”

“You can’t see whether it’s healed, client.”

“Hngh!”

He hooked his fingers on both sides and spread the hole open.

“Could you try tightening your perineum, then spreading it?”

“Hahng. Instructor…”

“Tighten more. Like last time.”

At those words, I tightened below like holding in urine, then released it wide.

“Ah…”

He let out an exclamation. Pleased by how that sounded, I tightened hard once more and released it wide.

“Looks good. I didn’t know it would show this deeply. Bright red, and the hole is long.”

He thrust one finger in.

“Want to try once more?”

When I squeezed his finger hard and released it all at once with a pop, he suddenly abandoned his composure and started stirring right away.

“Haaah!!”

Squelch, squelch. The obscenely wet sounds grew loud, and unable to endure anymore, I let go of the strap and hugged the instructor’s thighs in front of me. 

He wrapped one arm around my waist, and I wrapped my flailing legs around his torso. Still hanging upside down, his fingers thrust deep inside me.

p*ssy juice splattered everywhere. He lowered me down and made me grip the bar at the top of the equipment. Then he lifted one of my legs like splitting me apart and hooked my ankle in the strap.

Standing, with one leg spread wide. He took off his pants beside me. His er*ect member stood so stiffly it pushed up and panted, lifting the long t-shirt hanging down.

Through the mirror papered on the wall, I saw his menacing p*nis with bulging veins. Drip, something flowed down between my widely spread legs. 

Unable to close my legs to hide it or rub them together, I had no choice but to show the p*ssy juice overflowing and dripping steadily. 

He stood behind me, lowered his position, slowly rubbed his tip against my entrance, then thrust it deep all at once.

“Ahng!”

After gripping my waist firmly, he started pounding mercilessly from the start.

“Aaah, slowly. Slowly!”

He applied so much force that the flesh around where his hands gripped began turning red all over. Thud thud thud! Following the squishy s*x sounds keeping a fast beat, my moans sped up accordingly. My gaze was stolen by watching his thoroughly soaked, glistening member repeatedly coming out and going in through the full-length mirror. Watching my lower half growing redder and redder too.

The coupling area showed so explicitly that just watching it felt like my brain was melting. The instructor’s thick thighs swelled even more in a horse stance, and I felt pleasure from those split thigh muscles and the overwhelming force making my br*asts bounce violently.

My br*asts, repeatedly surging upward and falling, sometimes rotated outward in a circle from the weight’s momentum. He gripped one br*ast being flung in all directions like bursting it. Chunks of flesh protruded between the man’s long fingers.

Creak. Creak. The sound from the metal bar. Smack! Smack! The sound of thrusting his thick c*ck up into my lower half. Nnngh! And my moans trying to endure his force.

The s*x interval training continued until my limbs went limp and collapsed, until my whole body became a rag.

He drove me until I felt like dying, then gave me room to breathe while slowly rolling his hips in circles. 

Then he’d put me back on top of the peak of excitement until I convulsed and shuddered, then repeatedly caressed me until all my muscles relaxed and I dripped. His earlier words about having a long pace were exactly right.

“Client, next class we’ll focus on building flexibility. You need to handle high-difficulty movements too. Think of now as the preparation stage.”

In the class I took two days later, we were both n*ked from the start. The location was the personal room where one-on-one instruction took place thanks to my tuition investment.

From breathing to the main movements, he steadily built up pleasure, and for the finishing stretch, he pounded me from behind while I stood between the equipment in downward dog position. 

Pushing both b*ttocks tightly inward to narrow even the passageway for entry and exit, he thrust in like piercing my inner walls, then eventually came between my as$ crack.

With my upper body collapsed to the floor, his fluids naturally flowed down my spine to my nape. He caught his rough breath while spreading my as$ cheeks and rubbing his shaft between the gap. The p*ssy juice melted from climax dripped, mixed with s*men.

“After hanging from the bar, try hooking each ankle in the straps. I want to try it in the air.”

“Ah…”

“Keep exercising with me.”

Exercise with him continued beyond the scheduled time. 

Penetration on the equipment allowed various positions and brought full satisfaction, and as the frequency increased, his and my breathing gradually synchronized, and we became the best-matched personal partners for each other.

I came to love strength training with him.

fin.