Chapter 3: Tension Builds
I was still catching my breath from the warm ups when Dom clapped his big hands together, the sound echoing off the mirrored walls. My legs felt a little shaky already, and we’d only been going for twenty minutes. He loomed over me, sweat starting to glisten on his tattooed chest, those gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips. God, the man was built like a wall.
“Alright, Riley, time to ramp it up,” he said, voice that deep rumble that always hit me right in the gut. “Squats. Real ones. Not that light shit you do at college. Grab the barbell. We’re doing sets of eight, deep as you can go. I want to see your ass nearly touch the floor.”
I nodded, wiping my forehead. “Okay, Coach. I’ll try.”
“Trying ain’t enough,” he shot back, stepping behind me as I positioned myself under the bar. His hands came down on my shoulders first, adjusting my stance. “Feet wider. Shoulder width plus two inches. There. Now drop. Slow on the way down. Control it.”
I bent my knees and lowered, feeling the burn hit my thighs immediately. The tiny black shorts rode up even higher, digging into me. On the third rep, Dom moved closer, his body heat blasting against my back.
“Deeper, kid. All the way,” he growled, one hand pressing firmly on my lower back while the other gripped my hip. “Push that ass back. Like you’re sitting on something. Yeah… just like that. Hold it at the bottom for two seconds.”
I held, thighs trembling. “Coach, it’s burning already. My legs feel like jelly.”
“Good. That’s the point. You wanted me to push you, remember?” His fingers dug in a little harder on my hip, pulling me down even further. “Four more. Don’t you dare half-ass these. I can see your form slipping. Arch your back more there. Fuck, look at you. So flexible but still so tight in all the right places.”
My face flushed hot. The way he said it… it didn’t sound like regular coaching. I finished the set and stood up straight, panting. Sweat was trickling down my spine, soaking into my tank top. Between my legs, I could feel myself getting seriously wet. The fabric of my shorts was starting to cling in a way that made me want to die of embarrassment.
Dom didn’t give me much rest. “Again. This time I’m spotting you closer. And stretches after. We’re gonna work those splits hard today.”
We did another set. This time he was right up against me, his crotch brushing my ass every time I dropped low. I could feel the heavy outline of him through his sweatpants. It made my pussy throb so bad I had to bite my lip to stay quiet.
“Coach… you’re really close,” I whispered during the hold at the bottom.
“Damn right I am,” he replied, voice low and commanding right by my ear. “How else am I supposed to fix that lazy posture? Keep your core tight. Squeeze those glutes at the top. Good girl. Fuck, you’re getting stronger. But something else is getting wetter, isn’t it?”
I nearly lost my balance on the next rep. “What? No, I….”
“Don’t lie to me, Riley.” His hand slid from my hip to my lower back again, but this time it lingered, pressing just above my ass. “I can see the spot forming on those tiny shorts. Right between your legs. You’re soaking through, kid. Every time I push you down, you drip more. That turn you on? Your old Coach manhandling you like this?”
My heart hammered. I finished the set on shaky legs and turned to face him, crossing my arms over my chest like that would hide anything. “It’s just sweat, Coach. It’s hot in here. You’re making me work really hard.”
Dom stepped forward, towering over me. He tilted my chin up with one thick finger, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Sweat doesn’t leave dark wet patches right on your pussy like that. I’ve been training girls for years. I know the difference. You’re fucking drenched. And it’s not the first time I’ve noticed either.”
I swallowed hard, thighs pressing together instinctively. The pressure only made it worse I could feel more slickness leaking out. “I… okay, maybe a little. But it’s embarrassing. You’re forty-five, I’m nineteen. You’re my trainer. This shouldn’t be happening.”
“Shouldn’t?” He smirked, that possessive glint in his eyes making my knees weak. “Your body doesn’t seem to agree. Look down. Those shorts are ruined. Turn around and show me in the mirror.”
I hesitated, but his stare didn’t leave room for arguing. I turned, and there it was clear as day in the reflection. A obvious damp spot right at my crotch, the black fabric darker and clinging to my folds.
“See that?” Dom said, standing behind me now, his hands on my waist. He pulled me back against him so I could feel his cock, half-hard and massive, pressing against my ass. “That’s not sweat, little athlete. That’s your tight college pussy reacting to a real man correcting your form. You like when I get aggressive, don’t you? When I spread you wide and push you deeper.”
“Yes…” I admitted in a small voice, barely above a whisper. “It feels good when you touch me like that. I get all tingly and… wet. I can’t help it.”
“Damn right you can’t.” His voice dropped even lower, rougher. One hand slid down my stomach, stopping just above the waistband of my shorts. “We’re not even at the real stretching yet. You think this is bad? Wait till I have you oiled up and legs pinned back. But first, more work. Straddle stretch on the mat. Now.”
I moved to the mat and sat down, spreading my legs wide into a straddle. Dom dropped down right in front of me this time, his massive frame between my thighs. He grabbed my ankles and yanked me wider, almost painfully so.
“Deeper, Riley. Lean forward. Chest to the mat if you can.” His hands pressed on my inner thighs, thumbs digging into the soft skin. “Fuck, you’re flexible. But I bet I can make it better. How’s that feel?”
“It burns… but good,” I gasped, forehead nearly touching the mat. Sweat dripped off my face. My shorts were pulled so tight now that the seam rubbed right against my clit. “Coach, I’m getting even wetter. I can feel it dripping.”
“I know you can,” he growled, leaning in closer. His breath fanned over my neck. “I can smell it. Sweet and needy. You’re making a mess on my mats already. Keep holding. Tell me how bad you want me to stretch you deeper.”
“So bad,” I moaned softly, unable to stop myself. “I need it, Coach. Your hands… they make everything feel more intense. Please don’t stop pushing me.”
Dom’s grip tightened, spreading me another inch. “Good girl. That’s what I like to hear. But we’re just building tension here. Imagine what happens when I really start breaking you in. You think you’re wet now? Just wait.”
He released one leg and trailed his fingers slowly up my thigh, stopping inches from where I was aching most. I whimpered, hips twitching without meaning to.
“Coach… you’re teasing me.”
“Teasing?” He laughed darkly. “This is still training, kid. But yeah… I see how bad you need more. Keep stretching. We’ve got all day to see just how far you’ll let me take this.”
My whole body was on fire thighs burning, pussy throbbing, mind spinning. The age gap, the power he had over me, the way he talked… it was all too much. And we weren’t even halfway through the session yet.