Bare Fitness

Cherry, Amirah, and Angelika were supposed to be lifting. Turns out squats led to something stickier. Cherry started it—how she always does—tugging down Amirah's leggings and burying her tongue between those tight cheeks like it owed her rent. Amirah braced on the bench, ass out, moaning loud enough to wake the weights. Angelika took one look and jumped in, mouth open, spit running down Cherry's thigh as she slid her cock between her lips and started thrusting without much ceremony. The mirror caught it all: Angelika's balls smacking Cherry's chin, Amirah getting finger-fucked from behind, the slap of skin mixing with grunts and half-laughs. They moved like they'd done it a hundred times—positions traded without words, tongues everywhere, sweat flying. Amirah ended up on her back on the mat, legs wide while Cherry rode her face and Angelika drove into her from behind. Every thrust pushed Amirah's moan straight up into Cherry's cunt, and Cherry ground down harder for it. Nobody bothered to lock the door. They didn't care. The gym could watch. The whole city, even. Right now it was just three women and the kind of workout nobody puts on the whiteboard.