My Favorite Pits..... So Far!
by Mr. Chain

As I watched her walk towards me, I have to admit, I was at first, disappointed. Working as a personal trainer in my local gym, I was often lucky enough to have some beautiful women as my clients. And as a single, fairly good looking, single, 29-year-old man, working with beautiful woman was my favorite parts of the job. But in this case, I wasn't feeling particularly lucky.

Don't get me wrong, Madeleine certainly wasn't an unattractive woman, she just wasn't what I was hoping for in a female client. In her late 40's or early 50's, she could best be described as stocky. Wearing a black, tank top, body suit, it was obvious that she was uncomfortable and out of place in her surroundings. She had an affable face, pretty brown eyes and short, black hair, and though none of her features were striking, none were unpleasant to look at either. But she was the kind of woman who as soon as I set eyes on her, my mind shifted out of "get her into bed" mode and into "just train the client" mode.

Sensing her discomfort, I tried to make her comfortable, so we sat and talked for a few minutes. She explained how her husband had passed away about a year and a half ago, but she was now ready to try and start dating again. Not having dated in over 25 years, she knew it would be uncomfortable to meet someone, especially at her age, so she wanted to do what she could to give herself some sort of advantage. She decided that the best thing she could do was to try and lose some weight and get her body into shape. As we continued to speak, she explained that she hadn't been in a gym for a very long time, and was a little overwhelmed and intimidated by the whole experience. That was why she hired a personal trainer, to help her get started and make her feel more at ease. We agreed that she would initially sign a one month contract for my services and then we would take it from there.

She continued to tell me more about herself, which made me begin to feel sorry for her. Her self-esteem was really low and even though she had now taken the first step toward improving herself physically, she knew that she still had a long way to go. But despite her low self-esteem, she also spoke with determination. I could tell right away that she was serious, and prepared to work hard so I tried to make her feel comfortable, taking her for a tour around the gym before we began to discuss her work out regimen.

Her initial goals were to lose some weight and tone her body, though she had no idea how to do that. We began by doing some stretching, and I could tell right away that we had lots of work to do. But even though she struggled through the easy stuff, I could sense her resolve. I took it easy on her for the first session, though she still worked up a pretty good sweat. Afterward, we discussed her diet and set a schedule for the coming weeks. We would get together twice per week, gradually increasing the intensity of the work-out each session.

As I got to know her better, I grew to truly like her as a person. She was very sweet, a genuinely nice person, though obviously very vulnerable. She was, for the first time in her life, on her own, and scared about that. I did my best to reassure and encourage her, and we gradually became good friends. But after the second week of working with her, I noticed that she seemed to become a little flirtatious. It seemed cute to me at first, and harmless. If figured that she was probably just trying to experiment, you know, test her powers of seduction on me, so I went along with it. I didn't take it very seriously, and in fact began to enjoy the sport of it. She would purposely brush up against me while I helped with her exercises, so I wouldn't shy away. Though not at all interested in her sexually, I nonetheless enjoyed her innocent flirtations. It seemed to make her feel good about herself as well, so what was the harm?

At the start of the fourth week, I decided it was time for her to begin to do some serious weightlifting to try and tone her muscles. Up until that point, we focused on aerobic exercise and increasing her flexibility, but in order to achieve her goals, we needed to get serious. I discussed it with Madeleine, who by now had grown to trust me completely. I also think she had begun to grow fond of me in other ways too, but that didn't bother me. Little did I know however, that things between us were about to get very interesting.

We started the session off with Madeleine doing some serious stretching, more aggressive than usual. After that, I got a telephone call and had to step away for a minute. Rather than have her standing there waiting for me, I decided to put her on a treadmill for a few minutes before I went off to take the call. The call was an important one, and took longer than expected. By the time I got back to her, fifteen minutes had passed and Madeleine was huffing and puffing, trying desperately to keep her pace. I slowed the treadmill to a stop before she stepped off, panting furiously as perspiration began to drip from her face and body.

I let her catch her breath before we hit the weight machines, but that did not give her enough time to cool off. The first exercise we worked on was called Lat Pulldowns. In this exercise, Madeleine was seated at the apparatus, her arms spread apart and extended over her head while holding onto a bar. The idea is to pull down on the bar, which is attached to some weights, thereby stretching your lats and helping to give the body a nice "V" shape. As she held onto the bar, her arms spread wide apart, I stood in front of her, making sure she was positioned correctly. But right then, our relationship would never be the same.

She was wearing the same, black, tank top bodysuit as she had in our first session, but by now it was soaked with her own perspiration. And as she sat in front of me with her arms fully stretched and extended over her head, I realized, for the first time, how big her tits were. I had never looked at her in this way, but as I leaned forward to adjust her grip, they were only a foot or two away from my face, making them hard to miss! And not only were they big, but they were wet!

Trying not to stare at them, my eyes darted to the right, but that proved to be even more trouble. Her left armpit was a deep, smooth, soft, canyon of skin, and I instantly fell in love with it! No matter how hard I tried, I could not take my eyes off of it. The combination of her large chest, fleshy arm and soft, smoothly shaven skin had all combined to form the deepest, smoothest, most sensually contoured armpit I had ever seen! Not only did she possess the most stunning armpit I had ever seen, but it too was soaking wet and sparkling under the lights, further highlighting each graceful curve and magnifying it's cavernous depth.

As she struggled to pull the bar down and release it back up, over and over, my eyes darted from armpit to armpit, staring in excitement. I felt an erection immediately sprout from within my shorts, hoping that this sight could last forever. Though I could see her arms begin to tremble from the strain, I nevertheless chided her to keep going. Being the dedicated student she was, Madeleine struggled to continue, though she soon after relented and gave up the struggle.

As she sat in front of me, I could not hide my embarrassment, and since she was staring straight into my crotch, I couldn't hide my arousal either. Madeleine smiled shyly, and I could tell that I had made her day. Though I'm sure she didn't know what I was staring at, it didn't much matter to her. She was obviously flattered that I was obviously aroused. We continued the exercise for three more sets, each one an exercise in ecstasy for me. Upon watching her finish her last repetition, I quickly tried to think of other exercises where I could get another glimpse into her succulent pits. I decided on the Incline Bench Press.

This exercise required Madeleine to lay on her back on an inclined bench seat, which allowed her to sit fairly upright. Holding onto a handle grip on each side of her body, she pushed them upright against the weight resistance. This exercise would work her chest muscles, but importantly, it would again expose her pits to me. She asked for a rest, but I refused to give it to her, not wanting to allow her the opportunity to dry off. She sighed, but then took her position on the bench.

With a deep breath, she pushed the grips upright and again, her deep, wet armpits were open for viewing. I stared at them, trying to study each inch of skin and each drop of sweat before she lowered her arms to complete another repetition. She was a definitive brunette, with dark black hair and fair, white skin, so I was amazed at how smoothly shaven and free of any sign of stubble her pits were. There was not a sign of black hair on her smooth underarms. As she continued to strain, her fair skin turned to a bright pink color from the exertion of the work-out, which made her armpits appear even whiter! No matter how much I realized that I had to stop staring, I couldn't help myself.

After just a few reps, her arms again began to quiver, and she asked for my help. I leaned forward, drawing my face closer to her underarm. It took every ounce of fortitude I had not to just dive forward and bury my face in her sweaty underarm, but just then Madeleine took the opportunity to arch her back, thereby thrusting her chest upward in my direction.

I snickered to myself, realizing that she was under the impression that I was ogling her chest. But as she tried to push her tits further toward my face, I steered my face in another direction. As our game went on, she struggled ferociously to do another repetition, but finally could do no more and dropped the bar.

We repeated the exercise for three more sets, and though Madeleine could only do two or three reps each time, the jockeying for position by each of us continued; Madeleine shoving her chest at me and me shoving my face toward her underarms. Upon completing the exercise, Madeleine looked as of she were thoroughly exhausted. But I was not yet ready to end the ecstasy, so I suggested that we end the session with some pull-ups. She looked at me in dismay before explaining that there was no way she could do even a single pull up.

I gently encouraged her to give it a try, and like the perfect student she was, she agreed. We walked over to the chin up bar, and as she reached up, I helped to lift her from her ribs, much to her delight, as she grabbed hold of the bar. As she hung down, I spied a drop of sweat slide down from her elbow, racing down the inside of her arm before rolling into the cavernous recess beneath her arm. For a second or two I daydreamed about being that drop of sweat, but she broke my concentration with a loud grunt. She was desperately trying to do a pull up, her body jerking in all directions... all direction but upward.

I backed away, ensuring the best view possible as I peered into heaven, loving every minute of it. But again she groaned loudly, knocking me back into reality. Her bodysuit was drenched, her face ashen with exhaustion as her body hung limply, unable to even make even another attempt. I walked over and helped her down, hugging her in appreciation for the effort.

We sat down on a nearby bench as I tossed her a towel, allowing her to wipe the considerable perspiration from her face. I complimented her on her efforts and smiled at her, and although she was physically depleted, she smiled back, happy to have pleased me. We then set the next appointment, one which I planned strategically.

I asked her if she could perhaps make a late appointment, and she nodded eagerly. At this point I think she would have done just about anything I asked, so I took advantage of that. Knowing that they gym closed at 10:00 PM, and began to empty out by 9:30, I asked her to start the session at 9:30. She hesitated for a moment or two, a quizzical expression on her face before it was replaced with a wide smile which stretched across her lips. It was obvious that she had the wrong impression of my intentions, but I wasn't going to tell her that. All I wanted was the opportunity to have those deep, wet, luscious armpits all to myself. She then got up and trudged wearily into the locker room, weak from fatigue, but with a renewed bounce in her step. As she reached her arms up to pull the towel from around her neck, I wished that I was standing in front of her one last time to catch my last glimpse for the evening. Though it was not to be tonight, I looked forward to our next session.

TO BE CONTINUED?

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