My name is Dom Mazzetti, AKA The Brofessor™️, AKA The President of the MILF Slayers Club™️. And I'm not just the president, I'm also a member. The day is going about as well as it possibly could. I just banged out a PB on curls. That's right! 500 reps at my 1 rep max… of 420 pounds. Letting the bar fall to the ground, I hear the whiny voice of some small guy saying I shouldn't 'drop the weights on the floor' or whatever. I ignore him and focus on what's important, reflecting on my progress thus far. And by reflecting on my progress, I mean actually looking at my reflection in the mirror to see how big my muscles are. Since every day is a Personal Best, my muscles are always at their biggest. Today is no exception.
I take the time to flex my biceps good and long. Every vein pops out so much my arms look like their made of penis meat. I smile, my wide jaw covered in a thick carpet of perfectly manscaped beard. Oh, that's not what 'manscaped' means? Yeah maybe not for you. For me, every inch of my body is covered in perfect, Italian velvet. As I stand there, admiring the work of art I have created, I can't help but notice a juicy piece of ass in the gym right behind me.
Sitting on a bench, struggling with some grannie dumbbells, her wide child-bearing hips look like they've seen some action and her big titties look like they're still in operation. With her hair tied in a pony tail, I know she's serious about getting a workout. And with her freshly bought exercise clothes on January 3rd, I know she's insecure about her body and looking to make a change… for about a week or so until she gives up and goes back to shoving her face full of chocolate ice cream and blaming her love handles on her ex. I can tell she's in her mid-to-late thirties and that puts us both up against the clock: the biological clock. I can practically see her eggs going bad one by one and for sure she can too.
Not wasting any time, I strut up to this broad and deliver one of my patented one-liners; guaranteed to flood any nearby panties, or your money back.
"'Sup?" I say, lifting one leg up onto the bench she's sitting on. "Like what you see?"
This broad can't take her eyes off my crotch; probably because my nuts are like 6 inches from her face. There's a look of confusion on her face; like she doesn't know what part of me to compliment first.
"Your… arms are big," she finally stammers. "You come here a lot—"
"Yeah," I chuckle. "Yeah they are. You need a training buddy? I could teach you a thing or two."
She meekly nods as I lean in.
"Yeah so you want a little one-on-one training?" I continue. "I got just the training regimen that chicks like you love."
"S-Sure," she says sheepishly. "My name's Sarah, by the way."
"The name's Dom," I bellow, striking a dramatic pose. "But you can call me… your new baby daddy!"
"I'm sorry?" Sarah asks.
"What are you on protection?"
Not waiting for her to answer, I change the topic.
"So yeah, let's start working on squats," I say, leading her to the squat rack. "You're gonna want to make sure you reach full depth to make sure you get the most out of each rep."
Sarah takes the unloaded bar and begins. I kneel behind the rack, taking in full view of her juicy, thick ass as she slowly squats to depth then struggles to push her way back up. With each dip, I watch as the muscles in her thighs and ass struggle to fight the weight of the bar. Soon, I know I have to step in.
"Here, let me spot you," I say, easily lifting the bar off her shoulders.
With a relieved sigh, Sarah gasps. Her athletic gear is stuck to her body with a thin layer of sweat and I know it's time to strike.
"Looks like it's time to hit the showers," I say, wrapping an arm around the woman. "Maybe I could help spot you in there too, eh?"
I can tell there's more than sweat sticking her exercise shorts to the inside of her thighs. She looks up at me with a delirious lust.
"