Gym ‘Member’ Ship

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The following Mature category tale describes what happens when a 37 year old Gym owner becomes entranced by an lovely 18 year old college coed who dreams of winning Olympic gold. Will the short, full breasted beauty be seduced by the tall, blond gym owner? An erotic romance that hopefully will titillate you — enjoy!


Most guys would have chosen the blond. And she was exactly my type!

And why the heck not? Tall, long legged beauty with large, firm, high cones that threatened to poke through the pale yellow tank top she was wearing. Gorgeous blue eyes that sparkled as she smiled back at me. An eighteen or nineteen year old so fresh and ripe she took a man’s breath away.

But for some reason it was her little, dark haired friend that had grabbed my attention when the two had walked into my office. There was a gamin like cuteness to her that just drew me in. I momentarily wondered if she’d turn out to be worth the trouble.

The club was simply called ‘courseys college bods’. I’d opened it up three years ago in the four story aging, red brick industrial building I’d bought with some profits I’d made in the tech stock boom. Yahoo and Google and Dell had paid for the weights and machines and fancy locker rooms. Had also paid for the modern two thousand square foot apartment I’d built for myself on the top floor.

It was located just east of the campus, part of an area that was quickly becoming the ‘in’ entertainment area. It was a trendy zone that still had a certain edginess to it and which catered to the thousands of students that flooded into our city in the first week of September every year. And university students these days have lots of money to spend. I had an Internet Café/Juice Bar on the ground floor that stayed open 24/7, a photography studio on parts of the first and second floor, and the fitness club which took up part of the ground floor, half of the second and all the third. The operation had been a gold mine since it had opened.

“We’re interested in joining the gym,” the short, dark haired cutie blurted out before she settled her small but perfectly shaped teenage fanny into the chair.

“Hi ladies, I’m Jim Coursey,” I announced in my salesmans voice, standing with a big smile on my face, my hand extended to shake theirs.

“Didi…Didi Palmer,” blondie said with a big smile as she took my hand in hers. “And this is my friend Melissa Taylor…Mel,” she added.

“We’d like to know how much it’ll cost to join…for the school year,” Mel asked without standing or hardly even acknowledging me. Rich bitch I guessed immediately. The kind that could get my dander up. I usually didn’t like these short, mouthy girls.

Even though she wasn’t much over five two, and she was wearing baggy sweats both top and bottom, I could see at a glance she was an athlete. Something about the way she held her shoulders instantaneously made me think swimmer, a thought only strengthened by her black hair that was cut short in a tight spiky bob and which highlighted her pale skin and dark eyes.

“It depends…there are quite a few factors involved,” I delayed, not willing to let this young girl take my fun away from me. I loved making my salesman’s spiel. “I better give you two a tour first.”

“Can’t you just tell us the price?” she asked, the irritation clear in her voice.

Oh sweetie, I thought, I’m going to have some fun with you. “You haven’t even filled in the application form yet. Now c’mon girls, let me show you around.”

“We have friends who are members…we know all about the club…I’m in a rush,” bossy Mel insisted.

Are you, I thought. “All right Miss Taylor, while I give Didi a quick tour you can start filling in your application. Flicking my intercom I told my assistant, “Jill, I’m going to put a Miss Taylor in the conference room, could you give her the Gold Star Triple X application form please?”

I could hear the excitement in Jill’s voice when she answered, “Of course sir.” She knew from past encounters that she was going to be entertained this morning.

“But,” young Melissa protested when I’d deposited her with the waiting Jill who, grinning, held the five page, double sided, single spaced, ‘special’ application form in her hands.

“We’ll be back soon young lady,” I promised Mel as I took the pretty blonds arm, and then escorted her towards the cardio room.

Twenty-five minutes later I led a delighted Didi back into my office. I’d given her my number one sales pitch and she was dying to sign on the dotted line. And after twenty-five minutes of drinking in this beauty’s body I was going to make it very easy for her! But maybe not so easy for her friend.

“Melissa’s probably getting impatient,” Didi said as we both turned and watched her friend sitting next door through the one way glass that looked from my office into the conference room.

“Why don’t we finish you up first Didi, then I’ll get around to your little impatient friend. Here, why don’t you fill this in,” I said as I passed a one page form across my desk. It simply Gaziantep Sınırsız Escort asked name, address, phone numbers, e-mail address, height, weight and student status.

“This doesn’t seem like the form you gave Mel,” she said as she slipped the form back to me a minute later all filled out.

Ignoring her reference to her friend, I said as I started to type figures onto my computer screen, “You know Didi; I think you’re going to be very happy with our price.”

“I am?”

“You qualify for just about every discount going…and…gosh, look,” I said pointing to the screen, “You’re our one hundredth new member this month…that doubles the discounts.”

“It does?”

“Uh huh. Look, the standard monthly rate is usually three hundred dollars.”

“WHAT! Three hundred,” the shocked coed squealed, “I could never afford that.”

“Yes, but after all the discounts, the special promotions, it works out to just twenty-five bucks a month for you, and of course you also get one free massage and one free session with one of our trainers thrown in.”


“Only $200 smackers total for the eight month long school year. Would you like to pay by cheque or credit card?” I asked with a salesman’s smile.

“Credit card,” she announced eagerly and then slapped down a Gold Visa card that her rich daddy had happily provided her. “But what are all these discounts anyway Mr. Coursey? How did the price go from three hundred a month to only twenty-five?” Didi asked wonderingly as I ran her card through the machine.

“Please, call me Jimmy. That one’s the student discount,” I said pointing to the first deduction, a thirty percent chop. “And that one is because you’re nineteen, that one is because you’re blond, that one”

“Blonds get a discount?” she interrupted.

“Of course! Haven’t you noticed how we’re always picked on? Made fun of?” I asked as I ran my hand through my golden locks.

“I know…I hate it, it’s really not fair.” she agreed. “They’re always saying we’re stupid.”

“Exactly! So here we give twenty-five percent off for being blond.”

“Mel won’t get it?”

“She’s not blond, is she? And this discount is because of your height, we prefer tall girls here, and this one is because you have blue eyes,” I continued as I ran my finger down the list.

“And what’s this last one?” she asked, pointing to the last five per cent deduction on the list.

“It’s because I like you,” I whispered.

When the beaming beauty finally got up to go I asked her to send in her friend. Then I watched through the glass as Didi talked excitedly to the obviously impatient and angry Melissa.

“What kind of stupid application form is this?” an irate Mel demanded almost before she was through the door to my office. “What does all this have to do with joining a health club? Didi said her form was only half a page long,” she added as she slapped the five page form down on my desk.

“This is a Gold Star application Miss Taylor.”

“I want the same darn one Didi got. I didn’t ask for any Gold bloody star,” the little teen fumed.

“Unfortunately Didi got the last student special we had available.”

“I’m a student.”

“I’m sorry Miss Taylor, but management only allows a limited number of student specials each year. That’s why I gave you the next best thing — the ‘Gold Star Triple X’,” I said with a big smile.

“But these questions have nothing to do with joining a health club,” she said as she held the five page form up and waved it in my face. “Some of these questions are even against the law to ask,” she added angrily.

“They are? Which ones?” I asked with a serious look.

“Well,” she started as she leafed through the pages. “Like this one, ‘Are you a lesbian?’ or this one, ‘Are you a virgin?’ or this one, ‘How many times a week do you masturbate?’,” she read.

“Perfectly reasonable questions. It helps our staff tailor a program that meets all of your bodily needs. We are a health club miss,” I said while trying to keep a straight face.

“Are you crazy? I didn’t answer half of your stupid questions.”

“I didn’t design the form,” I lied. “Are you ashamed of being a lesbian; I thought all you girls were proudly out of the closet now…marching in parades…kissing in public…”

“I’m not a lesbian!” the little sweetie shouted.

“Well that’s excellent. The heterosexual girls shower and change room is much, much nicer than the lesbian’s.”

“What! You have two separate rooms for women?”

“Yes Miss Taylor. You don’t expect us to let innocent heterosexual coeds be preyed upon by deep voiced, men haters do you?…If you had only taken the tour with Didi and I you’d know all this. We could have saved time. I better just tick off heterosexual on your form so we don’t put you in with the lesbians,” I said as I took the form from her hand.

And then the little swimmer blushed beet red when I went on to ask, “So are you a virgin then?” My god, I thought watching the embarrassed girl, she is a virgin. Christ, and I’d come to believe that our great university didn’t accept unbloodied young women into their midst anymore.

Finally recovering Melissa simply spat out, “How much…how goddam much to join?”

I spent minutes scribbling on a scrap piece of paper. No computer printout for little Mel. “Two hundred and thirty-five…”

“Didi said hers was only two hundred for the year,” the again irate cutie said.

“…a month,” I finished.


“Which totals twenty-eight hundred and twenty Miss Taylor. For you I’ll round it down to an even two thousand eight hundred dollars.”

“You don’t want me here do you?” the little darling accused.

“Of course we do Melissa. You do understand what the Gold Star XXX Membership comes with don’t you? You get a free massage each week from one of our trained staff as well as a biweekly session with our best trainer. Plus the triple X surprise.”

“Which is?”

“You’ll like it,” I promised.

“Listen Mr. whatever your name is, I have absolutely no intention of paying a penny more than Didi. You people should be dying to have me here. I’m going to be one of the University’s top athletes. I’m on a full athletic scholarship. I’ll be in the Olympics one day.”

“Surely our great centre of learning isn’t sponsoring tiddlywinks teams now are they?” I asked smiling. “And when did tiddlywinks become an Olympic sport anyway?”

“You ass! I’m on the swim team,” young Mel fumed.

“A little thing like you,” I scoffed. “You’ll be lucky not to drown in the hot tub.”

She was standing now, and I could see a big vein pulsing on her forehead as she almost yelled her next words, “I was the High School Freestyle Champion at 100, 200 and 400 yards for the state of Connecticut last year.”

She was almost through the door when I yelled at her back, “I’ll make you a bet.”

“What?” she asked as she looked back at me.

“Your membership free,” I lured.

“How?” she asked as she inched back into the office. It continually amazes me how the rich are always the greediest.

“A race,” I offered.

“Huh? What do you mean? With who?”

“You and I…at say… 200 yards freestyle. That is your specialty isn’t it?” I asked as I stared at her bio on the Swim America site I’d clicked my computer screen onto seconds earlier.

“You want to race meeee?” she demanded haughtily.

“If I win you pay the full fee. And you aren’t allowed water wings when we race,” I said with a grin, twisting the knife in a little more.

“When? When you bastard? Today? Tomorrow?”

“Whenever you’re free Miss Taylor.”

“Okay…tomorrow…at the school pool…I’ll be free at…at three.”

Within a couple of minutes we had finalized our agreement, had even called in Jill and Didi to witness the pact. “I’ll bury you,” were her final words before flouncing out of my office, confident that no thirty-seven year old salesman could out swim a potential Olympian.

It’ll be close I thought as I studied the computer screens that scrolled in front of me. Her best times, which I easily found at ‘Swim America’ and on the school athletic site, were just slightly faster than what I’d been swimming lately. An ex collegiate swimmer myself, I still swan nationally competitive times for my age group. I knew I’d be able to beat her with a little gamesmanship.

Twenty-eight hundred bucks and her virginity to boot if I’m lucky, I thought, a big smile on my face. Not a bad morning’s work.


There was a crowd of fifteen or so young swimmers on the university’s pool deck when I arrived the next afternoon, mostly girls, and my garb of wild Hawaiian shirt and surfing shorts, and a woman’s flowered bathing cap, brought hoots of derision from young Mel’s friends.

Mel looked like she hadn’t stopped being mad since she’d flounced out of my office twenty-four hours earlier. “Ready my dear?” I asked.

But once I’d jettisoned the top I couldn’t hide my muscular swimmers body from their appraising eyes. Everyone there immediately knew I’d done some serious swimming at one time. The tone of the watchers became just a little more sober.

I took my time prancing around the pool, even posed, flexing my biceps for her college chums. Then leered suggestively when Mel pulled off her sweats and mounted the blocks.

“Aren’t you ready yet?” the impatient and confident Mel demanded from her perch on the starting blocks just a lane over from me.

“Relax Miss Taylor…are you sure you want to be embarrassed in front of your friends?” I asked as I awkwardly windmilled my arms around my head in a poor imitation of the standard warm up.

“It’s you who’ll be embarrassed,” she warned confidently.

“You look quite nice in a bathing suit Miss Taylor…for such a little girl. For a virgin,” I said in a voice just she could hear.

“Can we just start?” she asked but I saw the slight blush on her cheeks.

“Soon. Now don’t forget our deal. I’ll tell you when I’m ready but you can’t leave the blocks until I do,” I said, outlining the concession she’d readily agreed to the day before.

“Okay, okay. Are you ready nowwww?” she asked facetiously.

“Yes,” I said as I edged towards the edge of the block.

Young Mel immediately bent over in the classic start position, her cute, barely covered derriere pointing beautifully up. She had her head turned to watch me as her body quivered in anticipation of the start. Just waiting for my toes to leave the block.

I stretched again and saw how her body was trembling in anticipation. Delayed until I saw she was about to say something. Then I pushed my bathing suit down my legs and watched as her eyes opened wide in shock. Then bent and dove even as I watched my young collegian tumble from the block and fall arms akimbo into the water.

It was all over before we’d started. Oh, she valiantly tried to recover but was still only halfway down the last lap of the pool as I pulled myself from the water and grabbed a towel.

That wasn’t fair,” the gasping girl yelled at my back when she finally reached the end of the pool.

Almost at the door of the men’s locker room I simply turned, smiled once, mooned her, and then disappeared.

“BASTARD!!!” echoed around the pool walls and after me into the men’s locker room.


It took her three days to reappear at my office. I’d known she’d eventually come, her pride wouldn’t let her welch on the deal.

“It was poor sportsmanship, you’re a cheat,” she said huffily as she sat down in front of me.

“I didn’t think you’d turn out to be a crybaby,” I said smirking.

“I’m just a poor student,” she said as she threw the check across my desk.

“I thought you were on full scholarship. A rich girl studying free on the backs of the working man.”

“I earned it,” she snapped back.

“Your father’s a multi millionaire,” I countered. I’d done a little research on the young coed over the previous couple of days and knew her daddy, a banking executive, had pulled down 13.5 million big ones the previous year. Stock options of course.

“I may not have enough money for food or books because of this,” she exaggerated.

“I’ll make you a deal then.”

“What?” she asked and I could hear the hope in her voice, the hope that her poor-mouthing herself had somehow won my sympathy.

“I’ll trade you the check for…uhh…lets say…your watch,” I offered and pointed at the silver strap on her wrist.

“Are you crazy,” she started but then changing her tune added, “I can’t, it’s not that valuable but it has sentimental value…my grandmother gave it to me.”

We both knew the watch was worth over five grand. “Well I better keep the check then Miss Taylor.” And then, as she sat pouting, added, “Thanks to you Miss Taylor, I’ll be able to take my girl out on the town tonight.”

“The check is made out to the gym, not you.”

“I own the gym Melissa.”

“WHAT?” she wailed.

“Here’s our official booklet, you’ll see it lists all our classes, our hours of operation, our rules, etc. etc. This is our free club athletic bag, an official club towel and robe, your locker number and key,” I said as I passed the goodies across the desk.

“What’s the robe for?” the dour girl asked.

“Since you’re a Triple X member and get a weekly massage we thought we’d throw in this designer silk robe as an added bonus,” I said with a smile. It had ‘bod by coursey’ stitched in gold silk just above where her heart would be.

“How do I arrange for these training sessions and massages anyway?”

“Just call up the number here Miss Taylor,” I said pointing to a number at the back of the book, “And tell us your schedule and we’ll arrange everything.”

“Is there a list of the masseuses? Can I choose who I want?”

“Of course you can Melissa. Now let me see, you’re dark haired, short, female, lesbian, cranky…”

“I’m not…What does that have to do with anything anyway?”

“Yes, there’s only one of our staff that handles someone with all those disabilities,” I said, ignoring her interruption.

“Who is she?”


“You’re a masseur?”

“Uh huh.”

“I want somebody else…a woman.”


“It’s not fair.”

“Ask around, you’re very lucky, everyone says I’m the best.”

“I’ll bet,” young Mel said as she rose with her hands full of our giveaways.

“And if you stop at Jill’s desk she’ll take your picture and issue you your official ‘Gold’ card,” I said to the young swimmers departing back. I thought I heard ‘asshole’ muttered as Mel tramped down the hall


I only saw Melissa a couple of times over the next few weeks and although I noticed from our computer login system that she was coming in most days there was no real discernable pattern to the times of her workouts. She didn’t call to schedule a massage.

And then, late on a Wednesday evening in the third week after she’d joined, I found her doing bench presses alone when I returned to close the gym after a late dinner.

“Miss Taylor?”

“Hello,” she mumbled even as she fought to lift the weight off her chest.

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