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“Don’t stop.” I panted. “Keep going. Almost there… almost…”

“Ahhhh… ahhh…”

“Faster… yes… like that.”

“Hah… hah…”

“Aaaand done! Take a breather.”

Jim collapsed to the ground, and I found myself collapsing right next to him. I really did push him past his limit there. I didn’t know what came over me. I just wanted to see if he could go all the way, and when he managed it, I couldn’t help but feel pride and joy.

“Miss Jenny, I feel like you’re trying to kill me.” Jim panted.

“It’s Misses…” I responded. “And if I was trying to kill you, I have better ways.”

“Oh?” Jim looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. “You’re still married? I didn’t see a ring on your finger.”

I blushed, hiding my hand instinctively. “Ah, it’s just, I didn’t want to lose it by accident.”

Jim rolled over, facing me. He was still panting hard, and I could feel his hot breath flutter across my skin. I could feel my face only growing hotter. Why was it always like that with him?

“What better ways?” He asked.

I forced myself to look at him, not wanting to give him the wrong impression. We were both sweaty after a long workout, and if I turned away or tried to avoid him, I’d only make him more self-conscious. I knew this all too well because I used to be just like him. I used to be overweight and lacking in confidence.

“Hmm… maybe, I’d smother you between my thighs.” As soon as I said the words, I regretted them.

I had just been thinking of types of assassination and women, and the femme fatale who kills a man with her thighs popped up. However, no sooner had the words left my mouth than I realized just how flirtatious that sounded.

“What a way to go.” He responded, rolling back onto his back.

I let out a breath of relief that I hadn’t realized I was holding. That’s part of what appealed to me about Jim. He never seemed to respond too much to my nervous habit. I’d flirt a little, but he wouldn’t start expecting something from me.

In some ways, Jim had become my last hope. It was a little weird, but he was what I needed. You see, when I began, I had grand dreams of being to help people out and making them feel better about themselves. People like Jim were exactly why I wanted to do this.

It probably started when I was in high school. I was a fat girl nearly from birth. I was over two hundred pounds by the time I reached high school, and I stayed that weight until the end of high school. I ended up not going to college, and it was when I started finding jobs going to prettier, skinnier girls that I started to realize just how much my weight had been controlling my life. Eventually, one employer who was hiring me for a waitress job just flat out said that I was too fat to work in waitressing.

Thus, while living with my parents, I started reading a ton of books, forming weight loss plans, and working for nearly four years before I figured out the right combination to keep me fit and healthy. It was shortly after that when I met Tom.

Tom was exactly the kind of guy that I never got to date in high school. He was handsome, rich, and sociable. He had represented everything I had ever wanted, and everything I couldn’t have because of my weight.

Thus, when he started showing interest in me, I folded quickly and succumbed to all of his charms. Even though he was ten years my senior and had a daughter from an earlier marriage, we still ended up becoming infatuated with each other and quickly married. There was some pushback. After all, his daughter was only eight years younger than me. However, we were in love, and that was that.

At first, our marriage was blissful. He was a successful car salesman, while I kept the house clean. Yet, several years passed and I never got pregnant. He told me it was because I was working out too much and that it was my fault. I was so scared of becoming fat and undesirable again, that I couldn’t quit, and that’s when our relationship started to become distant.

I decided that since I was working out so much, I’d try to make money off it. At first, my husband was not happy with it at all, but it was something I wanted to do, so I did it anyway. I didn’t do it behind Tom’s back, but I didn’t advertise it either.

Jim was the first person to call me, and my first customer ever. He was exactly what I was looking for. He was someone who had potential but had lost that potential the same way as I had.

Of course, while he was the first, he wasn’t the only one. My good experiences with him had urged me to get a large base of clients. I had ended up meeting numerous people, and as time passed, I realized Jim was a rare exception and not the rule.

Most of the guys who had met with me had other intentions. They had seen pictures of a cute girl and were looking to exploit me. Many of them weren’t even that out of shape but thought they could score with me if they paid me enough. Some of them treated me like I was a prostitute they could throw money at, and those were the good ones.

I couldn’t complain about any of this to my husband. He didn’t want me to do the business at all, but I was bored out of my mind and I wanted to contribute somehow. Yet, most of the men dropped out as soon as they knew I wouldn’t sleep with them, and the rest got kicked out when they attempted to take things too far. I’d make a flirtatious joke, and the next thing I knew, my butt was being grabbed.

Get female clients? I had tried that too. I eventually asked around on various online coaching boards to find out what I was doing wrong, and someone eventually messaged me telling me that the problem was me. Women were self-conscious as it was to lose weight, and when they had to work out next to a woman like me, it made them feel shame. In short, I was too attractive. I had big boobs, and a shapely body which I had toned for years, and I was also in the prime of my life, and it made them all jealous.

So, a year passed by, and my business flickered and nearly died. The only reason I hadn’t given up was because of Jim. He would come to every workout session with a smile on his face. He’d do everything I asked him to do. He was polite. He wouldn’t get into my space. He ignored my flirting. He was the perfect guy. I mean, the perfect workout client. It was just business.

“I’m really hot.” He panted, lying next to me in the grass.

Although we had first started in the fall, it was now the middle of August, and the sun was beating down on the pair of us. After a long 10-kilometer run, I was just as hot as he was. Of course, I wasn’t one of those coaches that told them to do something and then didn’t do it myself. Since he ran it, I ran it with him.

During our run, I had tried to push him to a faster pace… only for him to meet it. Things got a little out of control, and we both ended up running like we were in a race. That’s ultimate what wore us out.

“Then, take off your shirt.” I declared.

“You take off your shirt!” He responded.

“If I did that, I’d scare the school children.” I turned to him with a grin.

He looked back, chuckling. “I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be fear they feel, although you might ruin a few pants.”

“You’re so dirty.” I giggled, glancing at him. “What about you? You take off your shirt, you could drench a few panties.”

“If any girl saw under my shirt, they’d be horrified,” Jim responded.

“You’ve lost a lot of weight.” I defended.

“Not as much as I wanted.”

“Yeah, but some of that is muscle weight,” I explained. “It weighs more than fat. Come on, it won’t be that bad.”

“You want me to take off my shirt?” He raised an eyebrow as he sat up.

This was part of my coaching job too. It wasn’t just a matter of losing weight, but accepting in your mind that you are no longer fat. That took me nearly as long as the weight loss. One of the reasons I jumped into Tom’s arms so quickly was exactly because I still had this mentality of being undesirable, and he was the first man to show any significant interest in the new me.

If I knew four years ago that it would have left me as basically a trophy wife. If I knew my husband would be gone all day working, and that he’d come home smelling like some other woman’s perfume if I knew our sex life would dwindle to the point where we haven’t done it in months, I might not have married him.

I gave Jim an encouraging smile, even sitting up on my knees like I was eagerly awaiting to see what he wanted. This was a moment to build his confidence, so no matter what, I would compliment him on how much better he looked.

Jim stood up and after giving me a hesitant look, to which I responded with another nod and a big grin, he reached down and pulled off his shirt. It had been covered with sweat, so it mostly peeled off his body.

My mouth fell open as I took in his body. I had been with him the entire time. So, I hadn’t noticed how much he had been improving. He wore the same shirts he wore when he was fat. They were baggy, and they did a good job hiding his figure. That’s why I was completely floored when I saw he had a six-pack.

His body was ripped. He had nicely toned muscles, and his skin was a nice tan. He had hair in all of the right places, and for the first time, I realized just how hot Jim was. Why did I never notice? No, why did he never notice?

Jim was giving me a worried look like I might turn away in disgust. My heart was beating so fast. I felt a bit light-headed. Compared to my husband, he was practically an underwear model.

Was this the same 400-lbs guy that I had started with almost a year prior? It had taken me four years to lose less weight. Testosterone was a heck of a hormone. He had gotten so jacked, so quickly, it took my breath away.

“See… I knew it.” He put his shirt back on, shaking his head unhappily.

“What?” As soon as my view of that beautiful body was taken away, I snapped back to reality. “I mean, you look good.”

“It’s fine.” He responded. “I still have a lot of work to do.”

I had taken so long to respond, he thought that I didn’t have anything good to say, but it was the opposite. I opened my mouth to correct his misconception, but then a thought hit me.

He’s already fit. He does not need me anymore. If I tell him, won’t I be alone again?

I bit my lip. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He shrugged, picking up a sports bottle and squirting some water into his mouth. “I guess I’ll see you in a few days, right?”

“R-right,” I responded.

He got up and started heading to his car, while I remained on my knees, watching him leave. My heart was still beating so fast.

I had done everything I had set out to do. He was in shape. He just needed to maintain it, and gain back confidence in his body. I should be happy. Yet, I felt extremely sad. I didn’t want to lose him. He’s the only thing that kept me sane, the only time I felt free. What was I going to do?

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