I bite the bullet and meet up with the south Asian gym chick. I’ve been hounded for days. All I did was ask her to share a machine.

I’m shaking with fear as I wait for her to get here. I then tell myself to STFU. The fear isn’t that she’s married: it’s that I might be rejected by her.

She’s parked in the gym parking lot. There’s probably 100 cars around us. Her back windows are tinted. Good girl.

I tell her to get in the back. Im still shaking. She laughs and turns the A/C down. As she sucks me off to earn my fuck, as I direct her on her form, I start shaking less. She’s screening calls from her man.

I tell her to take me to her house: can’t. Her man’s brother lives there, too. She refuses to move the car anywhere else. I scoff and correct her.

“I usually never do this”, she tells me. I slap her face lightly as punishment for being here with me. Light, because I can’t leave marks on her. She doesn’t tell me to stop.

Green eyes, more good looking than me. His name tatted on her arm in Arabic. It doesn’t matter. She told him she’s at the gym.

Absolutely shaken by my first empirical observation that AWALT, I ask her about the cute couples page she has with him. I dig into her mind: is he boring? Does he not hit you enough?

She seems genuinely baffled: “nothing’s wrong with him.”

I have to hastily pull my ripped denim back on and leave: her man video called her for proof that she’s driving and not trying to fit me in her mouth.

Takeaway what you will.