My post-workout protein shake is my husband's cock

My husband, he’s my perfect partner in crime. He’s the one who fuels this fire, who gets off on watching me be the ultimate fucking tease.

It was Leg Day. The holy grail. I’d chosen my armor with precision: these microscopic black shorts that were basically a belt, the fabric so thin it settled into every single lip of my pussy, leaving nothing to the imagination. My top was a flimsy, neon green thing that barely contained my tits, my hard nipples poking against the fabric with every rep. I was a walking, breathing sin, and I knew it.

My targets were two meatheads by the squat rack. All biceps and ego. I set up my station right between them. Every lunge, every hip thrust, I made it a performance. I’d catch their eyes in the mirror, biting my lip as I sank into a deep squat, my ass on display. I’d moan just a little too loud, wiping the sweat from my neck, letting them see my body glisten.

The best part was the “accidents.” The gym was packed, a perfect excuse to “squeeze” past them. I’d brush my ass against one’s thigh. Later, reaching for a weight my fingers “slipped” and grazed the thick bulge in his shorts. He jumped like I’d electrocuted him. I just gave him an innocent, “Oops, so sorry, sweetie,” and sauntered away, feeling his hungry stare on me. Across the room, leaning against the water cooler, was my man. He wasn’t even pretending to work out. He just watched, a sly, proud smirk on his face, sipping his water and loving every second of my little game.

The tension was a live wire. By the time I finished, the two guys were practically drooling, and I was soaked—and not just from sweat. I was dripping, aching, desperate for my husband.

We didn’t even make it to the car. The second the heavy gym door closed behind us, he shoved me against the cold concrete wall of the parking garage. His mouth was on mine, his hands ripping at my tiny shorts, tearing them aside. I fumbled with his shorts, freeing his rock-hard cock. I was so wet he slid in with one brutal, perfect thrust. I screamed into his shoulder, my legs wrapping around his waist as he pounded into me right there against our truck.

It was raw, filthy, and so fucking loud. Our skin slapped together, my moans echoing through the concrete cavern. And that’s when I saw him. In the car directly across from us, a guy sitting in the driver’s seat, frozen. But his hand was moving furiously in his lap, his eyes locked on us, on me getting absolutely wrecked by my husband. Knowing he was watching, that I was his personal pornstar, made me explode. I came screaming, my body convulsing around who followed right after with a guttural groan, filling me up.

We collapsed against the truck, breathing like we’d just run a marathon. The guy in the car quickly looked away and drove off. Mark and I just looked at each other and laughed. Another perfect workout.