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From: Thinking Horndog <im_a_thinker@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Friendly Traveler's Inn: Room 212 08/12 {Thinking Horndog} (MF MFF mM mm MM M+m M+f mf Ff blackmail rape reluc bd humil oral)
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Date: Sat, 03 Nov 2007 12:10:01 -0400
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Chapter 8 of 12



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<1st attachment, "=?utf-8?q?FTI212=5F8.txt?=" begin>

Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Friendly Traveler's Inn: Room 212
Part: 8 of 12
Universe: Friendly Traveler's Inn
Summary: Mike Webber had trouble dating, so he set out to visit the 'hook-up'
motel his friend told him about and met Lois, who had even worse issues, and
wasn't quite what she appeared to be -- or was she?

Keywords: MF MFF mM mm MM M+m M+f mf Ff blackmail rape reluc bd humil oral
anal voy bi 1st tg

Chapter 8

	'This' was the Fitness Center, where a somewhat different training
session was going on...

	Marcus "Mac" or sometimes "Big Mac" Goff had been cycling through the
weight machine stations when Mike and Lois had first clicked past.  Marcus was
a fitness coach -- and he looked the part, heavily muscled, slightly Teutonic
of facial feature and gracefully catlike in his movements.  He was a lifter --
a gym rat -- all of his friends were lifters, and all of his girlfriends were
lifters.  He was here, though, because he needed something different, some
change of pace...

	His friends all had -- and worshipped -- hard bodies, male and female
alike.  He himself could -- and did, when properly stimulated -- go both ways,
accepting attention form both males and females.  But hard bodies were hard
bodies -- and Mac had reached the point where male hard bodies and female hard
bodies didn't seem to be much different.  The big thing that bothered him was
breasts -- female lifters lost theirs and went flat, as a rule, and he had
this unaccountable fascination with big, natural jugs...

	Model-types could occasionally have some endowment to them, but they
were thin and sticklike and brittle -- and not generally a lot bigger in the
breast department than female lifters.  No, big naturals tended to be mounted
on a different model...

	Mac had a lot of trouble with the concept -- both from his own belief
system and from the ragging that he got from his friends -- but he couldn't
help goggling at the big, fat, soft racks of tit-flesh that some of the chunky
housefraus that worked out at the health club where he worked carried on their
chests.  They bobbled, they jiggled, they did little dances as the women
thumped on the steppers or the treadmills or the bikes -- sometimes seeming to
be independent not only of each other but the woman they were mounted on.
Thin, well-muscled women had breasts that gave a little springy bounce, maybe,
when they jogged, but the ones Mac loved did figure eights and rocked and
bobbled and flopped and did AMAZING things!

	The women that sported the flesh that brought joy to his eyeballs were
regularly awful; to a man to whom the body was a temple, they tended to be
garbage dumps.  But Mac would inevitably find himself hovering over some poor,
sweaty beginner, teaching her proper movements and helping her benefit from
her pain-filled labors in order to have an opportunity to watch her chest rise
and fall -- and make other movements.  His friends and colleagues -- male and
female -- disparaged these poor, stupid cattle among themselves (not publicly,
they were their bread and butter, after all) calling them sweathogs -- or just
pigs.  There was no comparison between those jiggling piles of flesh and their
hard, sleek bodies, and while they might feel sorry for them, in general, they
were beyond help.  "Hey Mac, look at that little piglet on stepper number
four!  Sweet in the face, but gawd..."  Only that morning one of his female
colleagues had leaned close and said that -- and it was typical.  He had
friends who worked at the all-female clubs that laughed themselves sick
telling horror stories about some poor wreck with thunder-thighs and a
cellulite-pocked moon of an ass trying to do some simple exercise...  The
women that came to his club seemed to come in two schools; the vast majority
never lasted more than a month -- or at best, a month at a time as they ran
out of willpower and dropped out then came back gamely for another run at a
cause already lost...  "We should teach her the refrigerator lift," was one of
his colleagues' favorite sayings.  A small -- VERY small -- number, made real
progress -- some for a while, and some steadily -- and when they got there,
they were just as snobbish -- if not more so -- than the pros...

	Could Mac pick up one of these women?  To date, he hadn't, although
occasionally one made it known to him that she might be approachable.  Most
were married -- and the club was his workplace -- and, well, the breasts were
beautiful, but the things that came with it didn't meet his standards -- he
couldn't justify getting involved with an overweight woman just to have her
breasts.

	So Mac went to the Inn -- not because he was desperate; he could pick
up girls, quality girls -- no problem.  He was looking for some kind of
miracle chick -- one he couldn't even visualize, because the parts seemed to
come from two different kits...

	Ten o'clock came and went and nothing appeared either on the Hosts or
the Visitors screens in Mac's room that captured his interest, so he went down
to the fitness center to work off his excess testosterone.  The weight machine
was a joke, but he could find ways to get tired on it...  That's what he was
doing when Lois and Mike first viewed the fitness center.

	Enter Melissa Thorndyke, wearing an XXL white T-shirt that said 'For a
good time call' and an up-arrow over a red sports bra, spandex sweatpants, and
running shoes.

	Melissa was twenty-six, a college grad, and worked at a local branch
bank.  She had a fresh face, light brown hair, freckles, and washed-out blue
eyes that could be very expressive, dimples...

	... And a pair of BIG, 44DD jugs.  Unfortunately, the rest of Melissa
was similarly sized -- which was why she showed up in the fitness center.
Melissa had never been small -- and seldom 'gotten lucky' as a result; when
she had, it was her monster mammaries that reeled the fish in, as a rule.
That being the case, she generally knew what to wear and how to wear it to
attract attention -- not that it had been helping, lately...

	Melissa had collected a boyfriend during her senior year in college
and they'd lived together for some time -- but Nick had never wanted to move
beyond that -- and eventually, she found out that warming his bed and feeding
him and doing his laundry didn't keep him out of other women's panties.

	The crash had been horrific, and Melissa, utterly despondent, had let
herself go to Hell for almost a year -- but three weeks previous, her boss
told her that her performance ratings were in the toilet and she needed to do
something serious in the way of an attitude change or she was going to be
jobless after the next review.  Then her doctor told her that she was showing
the early signs of diabetes and MUST get her act together if she wanted to
avoid all kinds of health problems.

	That got her to the gym and to Weight Watchers -- but both experiences
were miserable for her.  A girlfriend, however, had discovered an ad for the
Inn and suggested to Melissa that if she had the impetus of having a man -- or
several -- showing a little interest, it might help her set and achieve her
goals...

	This trip had been without expectation; she was here to learn the
ropes and see if the Inn was the Mecca it claimed to be -- and tonight hadn't
been all that exciting.  Still, she'd seen some things that indicated to her
that if she could get above the bar, there would be rewards out there...
Romantically, the visit had been a bust, but there was a fitness center, and
it was likely to be deserted; she could slog on the treadmill or the stepper
and improve her endurance without the shrew at the health club making
backhanded compliments and smiling her smarmy smile...

	There was a muscle hunk in the room when she got there, so she asked
the guy, "You don't mind if I use the stepper..."  He'd waved, and that was
all she wrote -- Melissa had no illusions as to his level of interest.  She
got on the stepper and started slogging...

	...And it sucked.  She was sweating like a pig in thirty seconds and
puffing and blowing...  The stepper was the same model as the one she used at
the club and she'd set the same settings, but she hadn't brought her
headphones, and all she could do was stare at the countdown clock and think
about how goddamned painful this was...

	Mac had seen her and been mildly irritated initially, but she'd been
polite and he didn't own the place.  He'd seen her picture online, too, and it
hadn't sparked any interest.  Now, watching her, he felt sympathy for her but
was in no position to volunteer to help.  He shifted to the bench and started
pulling the bar down, running a couple of hundred pounds -- easy stuff.

	This movement brought him to a position generally in front of Melissa,
so her eyes naturally drifted his way -- and stayed there.  He was this
collection of lumpy muscle that she figured could lift small cars, and he was
wearing loose shorts... Was there a little something extra there at the
opening of the right leg?  That made Melissa REALLY hot; she got pink and
panted and the sweat ran...  "Hey, can I take off my shirt?  It's hot in
here..."

	Mac didn't think it was particularly hot, but he was shirtless.
Besides...  He waved at a sign on the wall that said, "Our patrons are
reminded that this is an adult area -- full nudity is allowed.  Patrons
bothered by this should use the family fitness center as we are specifically
providing an environment where patrons may go nude."  "Looks like it to me.
The way I read the sign, it's your call."

	"Thank God!" Melissa gasped, throwing the wet shirt over her head.
"I'd strip down to nothing, but I don't want you to have to either puke or
leave..."

	Mac smiled.  "You'd be surprised what I've seen -- I'm a fitness
trainer."

	Melissa, just getting going again, snorted.  "Are you guys all
sadists?  My trainer seems to think I should enjoy the pain..."

	Mac grinned.  "That's because we do -- the endorphins kick in and give
us a high -- but some of us forget that average people either can't or don't
want to push that hard."  He didn't know why he was talking to her -- except
maybe because it gave him a chance to get a good look at the yard of cleavage
she was displaying, even in a sports bra...

	"I need... other incentives..." Melissa puffed.  "Actually... I...
have incentives... but... when I'm pushing these pedals... they're too far
away..."

	"You need a distraction," Mac told her.  "Something to take your mind
off what you're doing."

	"Uh huh," Melissa panted.  "Well, there's you..."  Mac snorted, and
Melissa pressed, "Gee, I can look, can't I?"

	Mac snorted.  "Sure."

	"Why aren't you nude?" Melissa panted.  "I bet... you aren't...
shy..."

	Mac eyed her.  "I just noticed the sign myself.  Do you need that much
of a distraction?"  Was the woman coming on to him?

	"It would... sure get... the juices... flowing..." Melissa panted.
"I... know better... than to expect... more..."

	Mac sat up fully, straddling the bench.  "Tell me about your
incentives and goals."

	"Uh oh..." Melissa panted, "I... let the... sadist out..."  But she
grinned, and Mac found himself grinning back.  "Had a... boyfriend...  Lost
him...  Let myself go," she gaped.  "Too heavy... Doctor says... health
problems... around the corner...  Need to... get my... shit together..."

	"Pretty ephemeral, if your legs hurt," Mac noted, nodding.  "You need
a more focused goal or two -- and a distraction.  How much longer?"  He waved
at the stepper.

	"Oh, God," Melissa panted, "Four minutes and forty seven seconds..."
It was eternity in Hell...

	"Okay, supposing I worked out nude.  Would that do it for you?"

	Melissa ducked her head but her eyes glowed.  "Probably."

	"What's in it for me?"  Mac had a sudden flash...

	"I...  What would you want?"  'I'd fuck him -- I'd burn this thing out
trying to get to it!' Melissa thought.

	"I'm uh, into big naturals..." Mac said quietly.

	"Well, shit!" Melissa crossed her arms at the bottom of the bra,
skinned it up, and sent it flying, "THOSE I've got!"

	Mac's eyes bulged.  His mouth opened.  They were MELONS!  With big,
fat, soda-can sized areolas in baby pink topped with fat, chewy nipples!
"Wow!"

	Melissa dimpled.  "Why, thank you, Sir!" she puffed.  "Is there...
anything else... you want me... to do?"

	"Just keep stepping," Mac groaned.  "I want to watch them... move..."

	"Okay," Melissa grinned.  THIS was cool -- watching him devour her
titties with his eyes!  But...  "You haven't..."

	Mac's eyes never left her as he stood and shucked out of his shorts.
Melissa was more than pleased with the result -- he was a god!  With an
erection!  Pointed at her!  "Ooohh, that's so nice..."

	Mac sat back down, straddling the bench -- and his hand went to his
erection, sliding up and down it before he realized what he was doing.  "Oops!
Sorry!"

	"You can... do that...  I'd be happy... to watch that...  I'd be
happy... to do more..." she puffed.  "I... take it... as a... compliment!"
She kept stepping.  "Are they... moving... enough?"

	"Yeah."  They shook.  They shimmied.  They bounced.  They did little
combo movements that involved two or more of the above...  They bounded
together and swayed apart and...  Mac was in Heaven!  Women in the gym had
never taken their tops off; Mac realized now that he'd have fucked any one of
several of them, if they had.  The fact that they were sort of under control
and not fully visible was the only reason he hadn't broken down and accepted
an invitation...  He could fuck THIS one!  She'd as much as said so!  And
those were the finest set he'd ever laid eyes on...  He was fisting his cock
again.  "I think you need a new personal trainer -- don't you?"

	"Yes!"  Melissa's eyes were glazed; she was marching on that stepper
like it was actually getting her closer to that beautiful dick the head of
which kept appearing and disappearing in his fist...  "I sure do!"

	Mac, totally into the situation, got up and came close, watching her
eyes map his cock.  "You need a goal.  What do you want?"

	"It..." she gasped.  "I want to suck it.  I want to hold it in my
hands..."

	"Finish your stepping, and you can suck it," Mac told her.  "I'm going
to play with those titties while you suck it.  We'll make some new exercises
with rewards like you've never had before..."

	"Yesss.  Oh, God..."  Melissa had never wanted anything as bad in her
life!  The guy was Adonis!  She wanted that cock -- it had to be seven inches
-- somehow, she would find a way to wrap herself around that...  She KNEW he
could probably go all night!  He could have her titties -- do anything he
wanted with them!  She didn't care!  She started hammering away at the
stepper, jacking up the speed of her efforts, pouring it on -- she wanted to
get there!

	Mac reached out a hand and palmed an orb; it shook and jiggled and
bounced and shimmied in his hand, dancing to her efforts like a wild thing --
and Mac jerked his hand away from his cock for fear that he would shoot and
deny the woman her reward...

	The timer pinged and Melissa stopped, dazed.  "I made it!"  She became
aware that she was sweating profusely.  "Gawd, I'm covered in sweat..."

	"I'm used to sweat," Mac told her.  "Get down and come to the
bench..."  But he stopped her before she got to him.  "Take of the rest of
that stuff -- I need to make an assessment."

	Melissa didn't argue; she toed out of her workout shoes and started
wriggling out of her spandex.  She didn't care -- not given what she'd been
promised...

	Mac looked her over critically -- like he hadn't already seen all he
needed to see.  She was up there -- probably weighed more than he did, despite
being three inches shorter -- and it wasn't hard muscle, either, of course.
Given her wide build, she would never be a hard-body -- even if he melted a
hundred pounds off of her.  Wait a minute...  She'd never be a hard body...

	She came up to the bench, dropped heavily onto her knees, took his
hands and made sure that each of them had a heavy handful of breast flesh, and
lowered her mouth to his aching cock.  It was great -- she didn't go at it
like she was killing rats (he'd had that from both sides of the aisle) and she
used her tongue and her mouth was very wet.  Mac knew that he wasn't going to
last long at all -- in fact, maybe he wouldn't last long enough...  "Stop!
This isn't helping you, even if it is helping me.  We need to add
something..."  He glanced around.  "Sit-ups.  Yeah, that's it.  Sit-ups."  He
got up and pulled her to her feet and led her to the inclined board with the
rollers used for inclined sit-ups.  Under no illusions, he set the incline at
just above floor level.  "You know how this works, right?  You put your ankles
under the rollers..."

	"Yes..."  He wasn't putting her off, was he?  She sat on the board and
worked her thick ankles under the rollers, then flopped back.

	"Put your hands behind your head and do a sit-up," he told her,
straddling the board.  "If you get to it, I'll help hold you while you suck me
for a bit.  We'll do this until I don't think you can go any more -- not until
YOU don't, until I don't!  Understand?  If you're a good girl, we'll move on
to squats.  You'll LOVE squats..."  His tone told her all she needed to hear
to fire her imagination.  She leaned up, and as promised, he braced her while
she sucked for a few seconds, then let her drop back.

	That's how Lois and Mike accidentally found them -- Mac straddling
Melissa while she did her sit-up and suck exercises.  Mac was just releasing
her to drop back from her third sit-up when the screen lit with them.  "Wow!
Look at that!" Mike grunted.

	"Yeah, that's hot..."  The guy on the screen was obviously in control;
they watched the woman struggle up and take in his cock while he braced her,
fucking her face.  The woman seemed thrilled to death...

	They did it seven times while Lois and Mike watched; Mac judged that
Melissa wasn't going to get upright again, so he told her, "Okay, we're gonna
do squats now."  He helped her unfold herself from the sit-up board and led
her to a place on the mat, where he lay down on his back, "Settle on that and
squat.  Go up and down -- I'm sure you can figure it out..."

	Melissa had no problems at all with that!  She straddled him and
settled until she could feel his pole as he pushed it vertical with a finger.
Insertion in her pussy wasn't that difficult -- she was dripping!  But it
didn't mean she wasn't tight...  Mac marveled while his pole slowly pressed
into her, going deeper and deeper; she managed to get down to the point where
their pubic mounds were touching.  Then she raised her ass and lowered it,
starting slowly, but picking up speed.  "How... long?" she panted.

	"Until you cum," Mac gasped back.  "Then we'll roll over and do pelvic
thrusts, okay?"

	"Okay!"  Until she came!  God, this was SOOO good!  Melissa hadn't had
a cock in months -- and she'd NEVER had the likes of THIS one!  The guy's body
was like stone and he was pressing up into her almost as hard as she was
dropping on him -- and she was going for the gold!

	Mac was more than pleased; he'd wanted something different, and this
-- this was a surprise!  He laced his fingers in hers to help her brace
herself and drove into her hot, soft pussy, watching her big, fat tits swing
in circles, one clockwise and the other counterclockwise, banging together and
swinging out while she moaned and panted.  This was what he was looking for,
after all; she wasn't bony or hard-muscled -- she was soft and padded --
utterly different...

	Lois and Mike watched avidly -- this was weirdly hot, largely because
of the couple's total immersion in the fantasy they had generated.  It was
obviously some kind of perverted training session...  The big woman seemed
perfectly happy to do whatever the muscle-bound trainer told her to do -- and
it was yielding benefits -- if not from weight loss, from an orgasmic point of
view...  Lois pulled Mike's cock back into her mouth and sucked it idly; Mike
started toying with Lois' nipples.  And both of them watched the heavy woman
bounce on the weightlifter like a house afire.

	Mac had set Melissa off completely -- and he realized dazedly as she
drove herself up and down his erection that she'd placed herself in his hands
absolutely without reservation!  This was a new thing -- nobody else had ever
done that before; people who are devoted to fitness must have willpower to
maintain themselves and to press forward to new goals -- and for that reason,
he was used to negotiation during sex.  Melissa, on the other hand, just did
whatever crazy thing came to mind...  He decided to test it, "Stop!"

	Melissa ground to a halt.  The look on her face was priceless -- she'd
been close -- but she obeyed!  "Resume!" Mac barked, and she took off again.

	For her part, Melissa had been confused and devastated by the order to
halt -- had she done something wrong?  She'd been that close...  Relief
flooded her when her trainer/lover ordered her to take off again, and she
redoubled her efforts; she didn't want to have to stop again before she could
cum!  "Why... did you...?" she gasped.

	"I wanted to see what you would do," Mac replied.

	"And...?"

	"I'm very pleased."

	A different kind of pleasure than the pleasure sex was generating
washed through Melissa -- but it was additive; suddenly, orgasm loomed close!
"Oooooh!  OGOD!  OGOD!  OGOD!"  Shockwaves flashed through her, causing her to
jerk and spasm and lose control, "OMIGAAAWD!"  She leaned forward, putting her
weight on their interlaced fingers to stabilize herself, because her legs were
bucking.

	"Come down to me," Mac directed.  Melissa did so gratefully; once the
load was off, the effort of what she'd been doing was telling on her.  The
incentive had been urgent and she'd been unstoppable, but now she was paying
the price...

	The woman was like a blanket -- so soft...  Mac wrapped his arms
around her and told her, "We're rolling to the left..."  Melissa had to fall,
basically -- not a problem; she found herself on her back with her new, rock-
hard lover towering over her.  "Time for those pelvic thrusts..." and his hips
started to move.

	It was quickly evident that the man was a machine -- some kind of
Terminator, or something!  Melissa got her legs up and her feet on the mat on
either side of him and the guy just kept powering into her, his pubic bone
thudding into her, her pussy making sloppy noises as his thick cock pushed her
juices out of her around it.  He was some kind of love machine!

	Mac found that he could let go and pound her, at full raw power --
without injuring either of them.  Her big tits were going every which way,
describing circles, slamming into each other and bouncing away, juddering all
over her chest -- and the sight of it drove him nuts!  There was no holding
back -- he couldn't, and for once, he didn't HAVE to!

	The action on screen got to the watchers; in a congested voice, Lois
husked, "I think we need to fuck."  Mike got momentarily wrapped around the
axle when Lois got up on her hands and knees, but she whispered, "Right now
I've got only one hole -- just use it.  It'll be okay."  Mike knelt up behind
her and she took his cock in her hand and guided it to her anus.  "Slow to
start -- you'll know when..."

	Her ass knew cock.  Mike Fox had ridden her, his father had ridden
her, there had been any number of strangers -- and Ed.  She knew how to open
herself up for a man, how to clamp down once he was inside -- and how to enjoy
it.  And she was GOING to enjoy it!  She was out of practice, though, so it
took her a moment before she could loosen up -- but she pressed him against
her opening and it slowly remembered what it was supposed to do when a
stranger called... she panted as sensations that had once been a regular thing
flooded her ass.

	Mike felt her accept him, surprised at how easy it was.  She held him
for a moment against her -- fairly tightly -- and then he slowly began to sink
inside.  Mike had never fucked and ass of ANY description and he didn't know
what to expect -- but it started out pretty good... and stayed that way!

	"Uhnh!" Lois grunted -- but it wasn't pain that brought it.  It was
Mike's cock sliding past her prostate.  Lois smiled to herself, remembering Ed
referring to it as her G-spot.  At least she had that...  Mike was being
gentle and it was GOOD -- but she wondered if he would be grossed out if she
reached under herself to rub what was left of her little tallywhacker...

	"Ah, God!  Let me know if I get carried away..." Mike gusted.

	"It's good," Lois panted.  "Fuck me!"

	Mike picked up the pace.  The grip of her anal ring on his cock was
exquisite -- and it kept pulsing.  But he found himself bothered...  "Do you
need to... touch yourself?" he panted.

	"I don't have to," she gasped back, "but it would be nice..."

	"Do it," Mike insisted.  "I want you to get the most you can..."

	"Th -- thanks..."  It almost wasn't necessary; Mike kept finding her
'G-spot'.  Given the side-effects of stimulation there, it was doubtful she
could have gotten an erection, even when she had balls, but she WAS incredibly
sensitive...  She ran her fingers alongside the tiny soft shaft and grunted
her pleasure at each of his pounding strokes.  "Unh...  Ugh...Umh... Uhh...
Ohh... Ahh..."  She looked back at Mike, "If it... Uuh... Loosens up...
Aah!... Give it... Uhnh!.. A swat..."

	"Am I... hurting you?" he puffed.

	"No!  God, no!"

	At that moment, the TV erupted with a protracted wail,
"OMIGAAAAWDDD!!!  AAIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!"  The woman on the screen went
wild, bucking upward frantically!  "OGOD!  OGOD!  OGOD!  OGOD!!"

	It was all that Mac could do to hold on!  His woman -- whatever her
name was, they'd never gotten to that -- nearly bucked him off!  Her eyes were
wild, locked on his as she wailed, "FUCK ME!  GOD!  FUCK ME!!!"  He held on
until she subsided, then resumed cycling through his stroke, pounding her
chubby, lightly furred mound, listening to her grunt and pant, interspersed
now with endearments, "So good... Uuhh!  You're mine...  My trainer... My
god...  Oohh... Train me!  Fuck me!  Love me!  Aah!"  That she probably had no
concept of what she was saying mattered not at all to either of them; they
were there, in the moment, and she had surrendered to him, granting him
dominion over her -- which was good, because he had no intention of letting
her slip away...  Her hands clutched his and she drove her pussy up to meet
his strokes, matching his urgency while he powered deep into her, taking it
however he chose to dish it out -- hard and fast or slow and soft -- but
neither of them could slow for long...  She ramped up under him, rising to
another orgasm, wailing, gasping -- and it went on and on until she wailed, "I
can't cum any more!  I'll die!"

	"Good!" Mac yelled, took three strokes and exploded inside her.
"AAAAAAAAAHHH!!!"  He'd been hanging on the edge, deliberately doing things
that would keep him from popping over the hump while he extended her orgasm --
but it had gotten to be insane!  It took nothing at all to put him over the
top; he'd been losing it, anyway!

	Melissa felt a stream like a fire hose hit her cervix and wailed,
"OMIGAAAWD!" -- nearly blacking out.  Mac let himself collapse atop her and
she folded both arms and both legs around him, unwilling to let him go
anywhere!

	"Who is your trainer?" Mac puffed.

	"Tawnya Lezynski," Melissa panted.

	"She's a bitch -- she does not WANT you to succeed!  You will come to
MY club -- we'll work there, after hours.  I'll melt fifty pounds off of you!"

	"Ony fifty?"  The doctor had told her she was probably ninety pounds
overweight.

	"We'll start you there and fine-tune things, after," he panted.  "I
don't want you bony, and I DON'T want you to lose THESE!"  Bolt upright on his
elbows, he collected a double-handful of breast flesh.

	"I'll try not to," she promised, rubbing his amazingly hard back.
"But where IS your club?  What's your name?"

	"Mac.  I work at," he named a major chain, "the one on the north side
of Smithfield.  Is that too far for you?"

	"Not in the evenings," Melissa purred.  "I'm Melissa."

	"Come, Melissa."  Mac seemed to levitate to his feet and hauled her
upright as if she were a feather, "We'll go up to my room and do a second set
of pelvic thrusts, then I want to go to sleep right there..."  He put a finger
on her breastbone.

	The second Melissa got vertical, a flood poured down her legs.  "Oh,
boy!"

	"What?"

	"I didn't put my diaphragm in...  I was coming downstairs to work
out..."

	Mac chewed a lip.  "Well, either the damage is done, or it won't
happen," he rationalized.  "They say doing it more than once does something
that precludes conception."

	"Really?"

	"I read it somewhere.  It COULD be wrong, but..."

	"I don't care if you don't."  Melissa bent to gather her gym clothes.
"This is a LOT better than my current workout schedule!"

	"Tawnya will coddle you until you buy a six-month membership, then
grind you into the dust so you won't come in," Mac took her hand, leading her
out of the visual field of the camera, "It's a standard tactic..."

<1st attachment end>


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