Winnmen's Gym

The following is fiction, intended to entertain. If it doesn't, by all means erase, exit or otherwise eliminate it from your life, as is your right. If I offend or disturb you in anyway, I am sorry, for that is not my intention. If by chance, I make you smile, or maybe wiggle in your seat, well, you'll be getting a touch of what I felt while writing this story. And that's exactly why I wrote it. Thank you sincerely, for your precious time.

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Chapter One

"Are we the last ones here?" Marie asked Julia while standing near the gym's exit, checking herself one last time in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. She liked what she saw. At 45 years old, she was finally beginning to bloom. She chuckled at the metaphor. The fat days were over -- her body had deflated in the physical sense. It was her life that was in bloom. She'd written off her old appearance so thoroughly that she saw herself as reborn, a new person, blossoming into a whole new life, with beauty and agility and the excitement of a child. She even looked young, her peppy spirit and sharp features belying her age.

More than a year before, she had accepted reality at face value. Fat people just don't live the same life as "normal" people. They don't go skiing, or swimming for that matter. They wallow. They don't walk or run, they waddle. They don't get the mates of their dreams, they read romance novels and chase after second chances with the rare blind date. It just sucks, and when it sucks enough, they reach a critical point -- they give up and accept it, maybe even kill themselves, or they revolt and remake themselves into what they believe they truly are.

Marie made her choice and turned her life inside out. A year later, there stood a beautiful woman in the mirror, a woman of confidence she'd never known before, and a woman with the whole panoply of life ahead. Sure, she was dating occasionally, still unhappy with the results but at least finally in the game. She was free, free at last to do whatever she wanted. There were no more physical limitations. She could participate in sports, or walk or run for miles. She could enter a room full of people and feel eyes on her for different reasons than before. She didn't bump into people unless she intended to. She no longer hated the airlines for charging fat people for a second seat. She didn't hate herself for taking that extra ration of food, sweets or booze. She was free at last.

She stood proudly before the mirror, especially proud as her new look held up so well even in the harsh light of the florescent noon light above. Down from a hundred and eight-five pounds, a weight she had been steadily approached since childhood, she was now one hundred and thirty-one and still loosing. Her face had become a part of her appearance again, no longer dismissed without regard over her obesity. And a pretty face it was. She had large black eyes, so black you couldn't tell if her pupils were dilated or closed. When people looked closely, men usually, they were suddenly taken aback, like they'd seen a ghost. She liked shocking people this way -- it meant they were interested. Her breasts, only recently a promising attraction for the first time in her life, had been dwarfed and obscured by her exploding belly. No one noticed their fullness and unusually firm stature. The rather ample cheeks of her ass had also been covered in fat that hid their treasures from all but her, who could only believe deep down inside that one day, somehow, she would regain her youthful beauty and show the world who she truly was. She turned sideways and cringed slightly at the work still to be done, but maintained her smile at her progress thus far.

"No, our love birds are still in the locker room." Julia answered, stepping up behind her. She cupped both of Marie's ass cheeks in her hands and asked, "Wanna join them?" She kissed Marie on the ear.

"Right. I've done all this, just so I could join the finger brigade." She laughed and squirmed away from Julia's touch, a move she exaggerated a bit more than she really felt compelled to do. That kiss had touched a nerve. She felt a stirring, but, no.

They were about to leave when the imposing woman, ever insulting by her mere presence among those who were still struggling to achieve a perfect body, and owner of the all women's gym, came through the glass office door and said, "You guys are putting in the time, but the effort too?"

For a moment, Julia thought Valerie Winn, owner and chief cook and bottle washer of "Winnmen's Gym," was going to compliment them about their perseverance, only to have her question their determination once again. It was frustrating. Valerie was like a drill sergeant -- tall, broad shouldered, muscular and with chiseled facial features that said, "Go ahead, fuck with me and you're dead." Even men kept their distance for she was an imposing figure. Seeing her arms up close, or worse, bumping into her, one knew right away this was a caged animal just waiting for a fight to the death. Men stayed away for the most part, and those that braved it out to try and reach her were usually found later in a dark alley, not beat up but hiding in shame at their embarrassment at being shot down like a fly swatted off the ass of a horse by its tail.

She walked over and stood behind the two women now exploring themselves in the mirror. Val put her hands on her hips and somehow pushed her tits out and hips as well as if to say, "That's it ladies. Take a look. There's your goal. Let me know when you think you can compete with this."

"We're not alone," Julia said, directing the conversation away from more criticism.

Valerie smiled, thinking she was referring to her.

"Yeah, the love birds will probably be in there half the night," Marie answered, trying to make it look like they were ignoring Valerie.

Val's eyes brightened and she stepped back. Slowly, she turned and said before walking toward the locker rooms, "Lock the door, will you girls? See you tomorrow."

Marie and Julia smiled at each other. They had become very close over the past year, so close they often read each other's thoughts. It was Julia who winked first. She reached over to open, then close then lock the entrance door, loudly, so Valerie would think they had left. She and Marie put their bags down, and walked silently back to the locker room door that Valerie had just passed through. They entered the same space where now five people existed in three groups, each believing they were alone.

Julia leaned to peek around the corner of the wall in the locker room's entrance, the wall that prevented those outside the room from seeing anyone inside the locker area. She pulled back abruptly.

Whispering into Marie's ear, she said, "Val's not six feet away." Her words were followed by the slightest hiccup. She motioned the direction to look and stepped aside so Marie could lean and peek too.

Valerie was glad she had never taken sides over gay vs straight. If she had taken the straight side, the one she thought she was on, she would have a tough time explaining to herself why she was so hot watching Jen and Lanny on the locker room bench. As the two continued to sixty-nine each other, Val strained to see Jen's tongue flicking Lanny's clit. There was no doubt that was happening because Lanny was bucking her loins up at Jen's face as fast as she was trying to replicate Jen's efforts, on Jen's clit. Then Val slipped a hand down her spandex shorts, the other already massaging one of her magnificent tits.

Marie didn't move back when Julia tugged on her sleeve. She anchored herself to the spot, watching Valerie closely. From their position, they could see Val easily, and beyond her, the two women on the bench. It was comforting, as if in confirmation to both Julia and Marie, to see Val so turned on she was fingering her pussy and mauling her tits. The idea of peeping on a participating peeper was over the top for Marie and she felt her vaginal canal moistening.

Julia gave up on tugging and got on her knees to peek around the corner directly below Marie's head. Now she knew why her friend would not move. She too felt a moistening slit between her legs as she watched Valerie trying to get herself off on watching the lesbians on the locker room bench. Julia sniffed. The aroma of sex was in the air. It couldn't be from the lez action for they were just too far away. It also couldn't be from Valerie, simply because she had only just started to stir, and was also too far enough away. It had to be Marie! Julia looked up and saw the source.

Lanny, lying below and facing up, had her hands facing up and cupping Jennifer's breasts. She manipulated them, occasionally pulling on their nipples or squeezing their flesh. The scene was hot, and the action on each was exhilarating regardless of its mutually feminine origin.

Marie had her hand up her skirt, panties pulled aside, and fingers rubbing up and down her clit, intermittently sliding into and out of the opening just below. Julia swallowed at the sight of her friend. She was hot. She was turned on by watching another woman! And it was Valerie, no less. Julia wiggled her ass to slide her thighs back and forth against each other to rub her pussy lips together. She was fully absorbed now in Marie's play and quite surprised at her impulsive inhibition.

Lanny was the first to cry, "Uncle." She collapsed on the bench after rocking and bucking up at her partner, probably desperately remaining silent to conceal their play. Her legs, previously up and trying to grab Jennifer's head and pull her down harder into her groin, fell to the floor like over cooked spaghetti. Jennifer must have had enough too, Val thought, for she also collapsed, her body falling down upon Lanny's and the two of them luxuriating in the scent and wetness of each other.

This was Val's cue to exit. She removed her hands from her breasts and vulva and tidied up before backing slowly toward the entrance.

Both Julia and Marie scooted back as quickly but silently as they could when Val pulled her hands free. They didn't dare linger for Val would surely exit quickly to avoid being seen. It was apparent to Julia and Marie that she was more about leaving this venue open for future productions, than being caught as a voyeur.

The other two voyeurs were in the lobby again, approaching the door when Valerie emerged from the locker room and said, "I thought you guys left."

"We did, I mean, we almost did," Said Julia. "Uh, Marie here thought she'd left her ring on the weight rack."

"I see," Said Val, too worked up still from the action in the locker room to question the excuse. She scarcely watched as the two did leave now, through the lobby entrance and disappear.

Jennifer and Lanny came out fifteen minutes later and smiled nonchalantly at Val as they said their good-bye's and disappeared as well. Val looked down at her spandex shorts behind the counter where she'd been standing, hoping to hide any stains she may have created. There were none, at least that extended above the crease in her thighs where people could see. She was frustrated now, anxious about what she had seen, and about it ending before she could get herself off while basking in its light.

She shook her head to no one as she mumbled, "I need a man! Or a woman!" She locked the door behind her and left.

Chapter Two

An hour later, Valerie left her condominium and drove. She didn't know where she was going, only that she had to do something. Since the incident in her locker room, her mind would not detach from her genitals. She fondled herself in the shower when she got home. She modeled in front of the mirror. She put on a garter belt and stockings, crotch less panties and a peek-a-boo bra, all for an itch she didn't quite understand, but felt compelled to scratch. She rushed through this performance, only to find herself getting into her car and not knowing where she was going.

About twenty-five miles outside New York City, she passed a club on Long Island. Like a zombie, she found herself slowing down, making a "U" Turn, and driving back and into the well populated parking lot. She'd never been there before, and only knew it was there by having seen it as she wandered east on Northern Boulevard. She didn't even know what town she was in, but perhaps that added to the moment. It was a topless club, a strip joint, something she hadn't been near since one night during her college years, and would never be caught dead in by anyone she knew.

Valerie pulled into a parking space away from the entrance, still in a precarious state of mind, and tried not to reflect on why she was here. What the hell she was doing wandering into a strip club all alone? She just kept following where her instincts led.

The place was busier than she'd expected, not that she'd established expectations more than second or two before entering. A woman was on a key shaped runway, dancing around a pole with a G-string and a man's tie. She was contorting herself into all kinds of sexy poses for the attentive men around the large end of the key, much to their libido and financial delight. And financial delight wasn't lost on the dancer. Her G-string was stretched to the limit with mostly twenties, though as Valerie got closer, she saw a few fifties and even a couple hundreds in the green and black melee. Valerie sat down at the key, her first time ever in a front row seat at a topless bar, along side several cheering and jeering men.

"Do it baby!"

"Oh, yah baby, shake it."

"A little wider honey, that's it, Mama Mia."

They were all into the dance and stuffing more and more money into the woman's flimsy garment. Val was grateful in a sense that they were so involved they didn't notice her sitting in their midst. She did notice however that a bouncer, or what she thought was a bouncer, a large, muscular brute in a black T-shirt and tight black jeans, shaved head and arms the size of her own muscular thighs walked over and stood just to her side and behind. She was already on edge with her bizarre behavior and tried to feel safer in his midst.

The music ended and a voice from speakers acknowledged "Daisy's incredible talent," and asked the crowd for one more round of applause. The braless beauty with only a few minor blemishes on her face and ass took one last bow, turned one hundred and eighty degrees in the bowed position so any last minute contributors would have a chance to see her crack and tuck a final twenty or two against her ass. Then she left the stage to catcalls and a crescendo of applause. They liked her a lot.

"Man, what I wouldn't do to follow her home," One man said, reaching down for his drink.

"She could tie me down and sit on my face for the night," Said another.

"Tie me down, bend me over, drive me crazy!" Said yet another.

Valerie wondered why all these men seemed to want to be dominated by the dancer. She could understand their desire to fuck her -- she was well built, in good shape and obviously sensual, at least on stage. But Val saw nothing of a bondage bent in what little she'd seen of the performance. It was strange, she thought, but she soon got her answer.

"Ben, you gonna go back and get your tie?" The fellow to her left asked the guy across the key from her.

The guy across the key was sitting there with his mouth open, looking at Val and not his friend.

"Ben! I asked, are you gonna..." He had looked to his right to see what had his friend's attention and interrupted himself saying, "Whoa!"

Ben said, "Where did you come from?"

The friend next to her said, "I'm sorry. My name is Jack." He put his hand out for her to shake.

She didn't take it. Instead, still riding a wave of blind confidence, she said to the guy named Ben, "She stole your tie?"

Ben took a moment to fathom the question. He was as busy as the rest of the guys at the end of the key looking her over. He was also the one who'd professed his eagerness to be tied up and fucked by the dancer.

From where Ben sat, the newcomer was taller than his friend, at least from the waist up, or she just sat up straighter, and she was what Ben would call a brutal beauty. She was obviously fit, muscular even, more handsome than pretty, and brazen. "Stole it? Nah. I gave it to her. She needed it to pull me into her uh, between her thighs."

The guys around the dance floor/table chuckled.

"You need to be pulled?" Val surprised herself by asking. It came out more like a challenge than a question.

That caught Ben off guard. There was a resounding "Whoa," around the end of the key, encouraging Ben to take the lady up on her challenge. He stood up and said, "You interested in doing a little pulling?"

The next groan of encouragement from the group brought the bouncer another step closer. Val stood up and said, "I might." And then she shocked herself by adding, "Care to step outside?" It sounded so much like a challenge for a fight that she added, "I'll drive."

The groan from the other men became a cheer and Ben really had no choice but to follow Val out of the club. As they walked toward the door, Daisy, the dancer, stopped in front of Ben and sensually returned his tie, sliding it over his head, around his neck, and pulling him close enough for a kiss on the ear. She obviously took a liking to this guy, singling him out from all the others in the place.

Ben was a bit uncomfortable. He'd tried enough times before to attract Daisy, but failed. Now she was coming on to him and he could do nothing about it. Worse, he had to turn her down. He gently pushed her back, titling his head slightly to lead her eyes toward his new found "date."

Daisy frowned, but looked at Val and said, "You caught the best one honey, have fun with him." And she twirled and sauntered off toward the bar. Half of Ben's audience drooled after Daisy, while the other half wanted to cheer their friend on with the new broad.

The victor led Ben all the way to her two year old Corvette before turning at the passenger door and opening it for him to get in. He stepped within a few feet and stopped to look back at his friends and others, all gathered around the club's door, some still cheering and a few with their jaws down in disbelief. The knockout broad was taking Ben for a ride in her hot little "Vette," and Ben was going along, and they knew nothing about her. One guy in the crowd started to pull out a pen to take down the license plate, but the sports car's engine revved and Ben was gone before anyone thought to memorize the number.

The group of men at the club began making jokes, mostly to cover their deepest envy, and drifted back into the club. The fun was about over and Fantasia was next to step out on to the runway.

Valerie pulled over less than two blocks from the club, into the parking lot of a convenience store and stopped the car. "You don't have to do this, you know." She didn't know why she was giving the guy an out, only that something new was driving her tonight and she was taking all of it one step at a time. She had a life, and a business to protect, not that she was acting all that responsibly anyway, but she would try to convince herself otherwise.

Ben looked at her and breathed a bit easier before asking, "And just exactly what is it that I can get out of?"

Valerie thought about that. She really didn't know. What the hell was she doing going to a strip club and picking up the first guy she meets? This was ludicrous, let alone downright dangerous. But the left side of her brain finally overcame the right and a fantasy came magically to her mind, one she'd had on lonely nights for many years, and one which had still not been fulfilled. "I'm going to blindfold you and have my way with you." She didn't even bother to tell him he would like it, for if there was any question in his mind, she didn't want to start with him anyway.