Page 47 of The Titan and the Trainer

As Callum bit into his own bagel, he thought about how Julian reacted when he saw him in the gear. “If he sees me in my gear up on the pole, I think he would probably go sex crazy!”

“Yes, but imagine the dollars he’d drop into your podium,” she retorted. They both laughed. It felt good to get her perspective, although she didn’t seem as worried as he was.

He did need to tell Julian what The Vault was all about, and the sooner the better.

***

Later that day, the silver elevator doors opened on the 50th floor, and this time Callum felt less like a trespasser. He stepped onto the polished marble, gym bag slung over a shoulder, but he’d left the professional trainer mask he usually wore back home.

He wasn’t just the Trainer now; he was the boyfriend of the CEO.

In fact, not that many hours ago he’d woken up with the Titan wrapped around him, his dick pressing along his ass crack. He smiled to himself, thinking how lucky he was.

When he entered the gym area, Julian was already there, standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out over the city. He wasn't in his suit today, just a pair of black athletic shorts and a T-shirt that stretched tight across his shoulders.

“Hey trainer, you’re late,” Julian said, in his deep, sexy voice, in an ‘as if I don’t know every inch of your body’ tone. His eyes scanned Callum’s frame with a possessive heat that made Callum’s skin prickle.

“Traffic was a nightmare, sorry,” Callum replied, stepping into Julian’s space. “I need to check your heart rate Mr Newman, before we get going… He left those words hanging in the air, an innocent look on his face.

He pressed against the skin of Julian’s neck, feeling both the client’s pulse, but also his own, speeding up. He felt himself already getting aroused. Julian wanted to role-play, so Callum decided he would too.

“So, Mr Newman, if I could ask you to bend over and touch your toes, I just need to check your thighs for any… misalignment.” He struggled to keep a straight face.

“Seriously.” Julian made eyes at Callum, but then dutifully turned around, bent over and touched his toes. The black shorts pulled taut across his firm ass, and Julian wiggled it a couple of times, for the hell of it.

Callum came up behind him, pressing his own growing erection along Julian’s ass crack. He then made great play of caressing each outer side of Julian’s waist. “No issues here, Mr Newman. You are in perfect alignment. Let me just,” and he stepped back and ran his hand along Julian’s ass crack, “check for any potential training issues.” He caressed Julian’s arse, under his taint to his groin, where, of course, he felt his solid erection. Julian didn’t move; Callum gave it a little rub.

“Come on Cal, no fair! We do actually need to do a workout,” he said, standing and turning to face him. Although he looked comical, with a huge erection pointing straight up in his shorts, Callum kept a straight face, and they actually started their normal workout.

It was different. There was an easiness to them now. No pretence, no class difference; it had moved away from a client and supplier relationship to just two guys exercising.

Towards the end of their session, they ended up back-to-back on the rubber mats, having just finished three punishing sets of reverse crunches. They rested comfortably, backs against one another, each relying on the other for support, Callum drinking from his water bottle and Julian wiping the sweat from his forehead with a small white towel.

Callum wanted to instigate a happy ending, so he insisted on a warm-down for Julian, which involved massaging his calves whilst he lay on his back on the floor. Callum sat astride him facing his feet. The unmistakable lump of Julian’s genitals could clearly be felt against his own. He set about meticulously massaging his legs from the feet, up the calves, to the thighs, and most importantly the inner thigh, which from their previous sessions, Callum knew was a definite erogenous zone. He felt the lump under him steadily growing. He tensed his own ass, knowing through the thin shorts they were both wearing that every move could be felt.

“There is some definite tension here Mr Newman,” he said in his best professional voice. “I think I need to massage these momentarily to release it,” and he tensed again, “before we reach the climax...” long-drawn-out pause, “of our session.”

This was too much for Julian. “Come here, you little git,” pulling him back and over at the same time, so he ended up on top of him on the floor. “You are a bloody tease. No fair, Cal, no fair,” and he kissed his mouth with a real hunger.

Both were now breathing hard, the scent of sweat and cologne mingling between them. Julian’s hands found Callum’s neck, pulling him hard against his lips.

“We are supposed to be... training,” Callum gasped, though his hands were already tangled in Julian’s hair.

“I’m in agony, Callum,” Julian groaned. “Every time you touch me, I lose my mind.”

They fondled each other with a desperate, frantic energy, hands under shirts, mouths seeking skin, almost losing control on the office floor. With a herculean effort, Callum pulled back, his eyes dark with lust. “Not here.”

“The suite,” Julian gasped.

They retreated to his private suite once again, the door locking behind them with a finality that signalled the end of the exercise session, and the start of something else. The sex was fierce and unfiltered, as they each found relief in the hot, eager mouth of the other.

Later, tangled together in the oversized bed, the city lights beginning to flicker outside and the room quiet. Callum decided to broach the subject of The Vault.

“Julian, there’s something I need to talk to you about. My other job at The Vault, we’ve never really discussed it.”

Julian shifted, propping himself up on an elbow. “Ah yes, the hot leather gear. Please, go on.” An intrigued look in those green eyes.

“I work at a club called The Vault. I'm a podium dancer. I wear... well, you saw, a leather harness and shorts, or Lycra, or a posing pouch, whatever fits the theme for the night. But basically, I dance; guys throw money at me. I do it because I love to dance, and the money is useful. It’s how I make my rent.”