My Married Trainers Keep Turning Me Into A Dripping, Desperate Mess
I’m supposed to be a professional.
But right now, as I walk into the ship’s luxury gym in my tiny black sports bra and tight grey shorts, my p***y is already throbbing with shame and anticipation.
For the past two weeks, Ryan and Sophia Thompson have been “training” me during my three-hour guest period. They’re one of the richest couples on the cruise — late thirties, stunning, and dangerously seductive. Ryan is tall, ripped, with a deep voice that makes my knees weak. Sophia is pure s*x — toned body, perky fake t**s, and a dominant stare that makes me feel like prey.
They offered to help me “get in shape.” I should have said no.
Now I’m addicted.
Today’s session is pure torture.
Ryan stands behind me as I do squats
