Chapter 11: The Weekend

When we were safely in Chemmy’s car, she said, “I haven’t the opportunity to do any weight training this week. Would you mind if I went this evening? I don’t have a spare key I could give you so you’d have to stay in my flat, or you could come and watch if you prefer.”

I realised the reason Chemmy had missed out was because she had been looking after me while I was working late, so I felt an obligation to cooperate. The safe choice was to stay in Chemmy’s flat and devour more paperbacks but I was interested in what Chemmy’s weight training involved. “I’d like to watch,” I said. “Will you do your weight training before or after dinner?”

Chemmy laughed. “Before dinner. You don’t want to see what happens when someone does vigorous exercise on a full stomach.”

I had never played a squash match straight after a meal but the avoidance hadn’t been a conscious decision. Thinking about it, it made sense though.

As she pulled out of the car park, Chemmy said, “I’ll go via my place so I can drop off the shopping and collect my gym clothes.”

At Chemmy’s flat, I carried Chemmy’s two bags of shopping so that she could open the door with the hand not carrying her book bag.

“Dump the shopping in the kitchen area,” said Chemmy. “I’m going to get changed out of my work uniform. I won’t be five minutes.”

Chemmy’s prediction was accurate: she didn’t take five minutes, she took nearly twenty. When she emerged from the bedroom, she didn’t appear to be wearing gym clothing but casual wear; jeans and a t-shirt. However she was carrying a sports bag so I guessed she was going to change again when she got to the gym.

After a ten minute drive, Chemmy entered a crowded car park belonging to what appeared to be a repurposed warehouse. There was a sign over the building’s entrance saying ‘Carlo’s Gym’ and a smaller sign underneath saying ‘New members welcome, free fitness assessment and trial session’. Carrying her gym bag, Chemmy led the way to the entrance and pressed a button marked ‘Reception’. A few moments later there was a buzzing sound and a click as the door was unlocked. Chemmy pushed the glass door open and we went in.

A fit-looking older man wearing a tracksuit was sitting at a desk in the reception area poring over some ledgers. He looked up. “Hi Chemmy, we missed you this week. What have you been up to?”

“Hi Carlo, I’ve been working long hours,” said Chemmy. “This is Michael Turner, a visitor from my company’s central office. I’ve been escorting him.”

“Hi Michael,” said Carlo. “Are you here for a free assessment and trial session?”

“No,” jumped in Chemmy. “I said he could watch my weight training. Is that okay?”

Carlo looked me over. “Not from inside the gym, I’m afraid. Health and safety regulations. But he can watch through the observation window in the bar now the workmen have finished for the week.”

“Could you show Michael where to go, while I go and get changed?” asked Chemmy.

“Sure,” said Carlo, getting to his feet.

“Are you coming tomorrow afternoon?” Chemmy asked him.

“I’d like to, but it will depend on whether I can get someone to cover reception,” said Carlo.

Chemmy disappeared through a door marked ‘Changing Rooms’ while Carlo led me up some stairs to an upper floor. There we entered a large room that was on the way to becoming a refreshments facility for the gym.

“Sorry about the mess,” apologised Carlo, as he pathfound a way through the obstacle course to a large glass window. “You can see the whole of the gym from here except the studios. Some exercise classes can be quite loud and some the instructors and students prefer privacy, so it made sense to separate them from the main gym.”

The gym itself presented a stark contrast to the state of the putative bar. The equipment looked clean and modern and there were plenty of users.

“When the school where I taught offered me voluntary redundancy, I nearly bit their hand off,” explained Carlo. “I sank my redundancy money and all my savings into this place and rustled up some enterprise funding too. It’s been hard going but I think it’s going to make it. Once the bar’s finished, that will be the icing on the cake. Even if it goes belly-up, it’s been more fun than teaching classes of bolshie, know-all teens.”

“How did you get to know Chemmy?” I asked.

“She was one of my students. I ran into her again after she left school and she asked me for fitness advice. When I opened the gym, she was one of the first to apply for membership.”

A buzzer sounded. “Got to go,” said Carlo. “I’m hoping to upgrade to an entry card system but for the moment members have to be manually buzzed in.”

After Carlo left, I found a stool to sit on and moved it next to the large glass window. I sat, scrutinising the gym floor but couldn’t see Chemmy anywhere. Then she emerged from the changing rooms, a goddess clad in a black sports bra and matching compression leggings. More than a few of her fellow gym-rats paused to look at her. Some, obviously friends, smiled and waved at her. Others just ogled. Chemmy looked up at the window, saw me there and waved. I waved back. The oglers looked disappointed.

After some stretching to warm up, Chemmy started what was obviously a well-rehearsed routine. She’d choose a piece of apparatus, adjust it to suit, then set to with determination. While the weights and resistance didn’t seem exceptional, where Chemmy impressed was with her intensity and number of repetitions. I realised my claim that my stamina would be responsible for winning a few of our second hundred arm-wrestling contests was unfounded. Chemmy had stamina in spades.

By the time Chemmy finished with her sixth piece of apparatus, over an hour had passed. She was dripping with sweat and there were darker patches on her gymwear. She looked up at the window again, saw I was still watching her, and gave me a wave then made a gesture to show she had finished. I responded with a thumbs up to show I had understood then pointed towards reception to indicate I’d meet her there.

Carlo was still working in reception. We acknowledged each other but didn’t say anything. Twenty minutes later Chemmy turned up, back in her jeans and t-shirt, and looking as fresh as a daisy.

“Thank you for inviting me to watch. That was awesome,” I complimented her.

“After the week I’ve just had, I needed a good workout,” she grinned. “Besides, you’ve been feeding me too well. I don’t want to get fat.”

Carlo was studiously pretending he wasn’t there, but I noticed a raised eyebrow at that last remark.

“Are you ready for something to eat?” I asked her.

“You betcha. After a workout like that, I could eat a horse.”

“There’s a Romanian restaurant on the other side of town,” volunteered Carlo, proving he had been listening.

“Gross,” said Chemmy. “I would like lots of protein though.”

“There’s a steakhouse next to the new cinema,” said Carlo. “It’s part of a national chain so it shouldn’t be too awful. I haven’t been there yet: it’s allegedly quite expensive.”

“Do you have any preference, since you’re paying?” Chemmy asked me.

“The company’s paying, but no, I don’t mind where we go.”

“In that case, I fancy the Blue Lantern Pub. It’s quite a way across town but they have an ‘all you can eat’ carvery.”

“Sounds good,” I agreed.

We said goodbye to Carlo, then Chemmy drove us to the pub. I expected a small place but it was actually a large building, a former police station, and it seemed very popular with the locals.

We sat at an empty table in the dining room and Chemmy flipped over the table number plaque to show it was now taken, then we waited to be served. The food certainly smelled appetising. When a waitress came to our table, she said she hoped we hadn’t been waiting long but it was very busy that evening. She took our drinks order, both of us choosing soft drinks, then asked how many of us were dining. When we said both of us, the waitress handed us each a plastic token with a number on. The waitress went to get our drinks and Chemmy led me to the food counter. They had a choice of three roasts available; beef, turkey and nut roast, together with a choice of roast or new potatoes and a variety of vegetables, roast and steamed as appropriate.

“You can visit the food counter as many times as you like but you can only choose one roast each time,” Chemmy explained. “I’m having the roast beef.”

After noting the number on Chemmy’s plastic token, the food counter served her with several generous slices of roast beef until she indicated enough. Then she chose new potatoes and an assortment of steamed vegetables to accompany it.

When it was my turn, I showed the number on my plastic token then chose roast turkey and roast potatoes but matched Chemmy’s choice of steamed vegetables rather than roast.

By the time we got back to our table with our loaded plates, our drinks were waiting for us.

We both tucked in, eating taking precedence over talking.

When we had finished, Chemmy said she was going back for seconds. I wasn’t hungry but I thought I’d sample the roast beef. I could have tried to steal some from Chemmy’s plate but the speed at which she had been eating suggested she needed it more than me.

Chemmy went for the roast beef again, although a much smaller portion this time. I matched her choice. The turkey had been very good, nice and succulent, but the beef equalled it.

When we had finished, Chemmy said, “I needed that. A good workout always makes me hungry.”

The waitress magically reappeared, offering desserts, but Chemmy declined so I followed suit. I settled the bill and elicited a receipt. Then, as we were leaving, Chemmy made an addition to a tips jar by the food counter and I followed suit.

Back at the flat, Chemmy wanted to watch the news and the talking heads so I helped myself to another of her romance paperbacks.

Eventually even Chemmy got tired of the talking heads and we agreed it was bedtime, even though we didn’t have work the next day. I used the shower first then got into bed. Having already showered at the gym, Chemmy was much quicker.

When we were in bed together, Chemmy asked, “Do you think I’m attractive?”

“Very,” I replied.

“Why haven’t you tried anything with me?”

“You made me promise no hanky-panky.”

“What would it take for that to change?” Chemmy asked.

“My Asperger’s means I don’t readily detect non-verbal cues. You’d have to club me over the head and drag me back to your cave before I had any inkling.”

Chemmy leaned over and gently tapped my head with a couple of fingers. “You’re already in my cave and that’s as hard as I dare club you for fear of damaging vital company assets. Is that enough of an inkling for you?”

My mind raced. Physically I was very attracted to Chemmy but would it interfere with my relationship, such as it was, with Jardine? What would Jardine advise me to do? Since Jardine worked as an escort and made sure her clients had a good time, I felt sure she’d want me to do my best to reward Chemmy with a very good time.

Conscious the seconds were ticking and Chemmy was waiting, I made my decision. I leaned over and kissed her deeply. At first she seemed surprised, then she relaxed and enjoyed it, then she actively reciprocated.

After we broke for air, Chemmy gave me a lascivious look. “I take that as a yes,” she said.

Pyjamas were quickly discarded then I worshipped Chemmy’s body with my mouth, lips and tongue. As I worked my way downwards, taking an inordinately long time to check and double-check that Chemmy’s breasts and nipples were completely clean, the scent of Chemmy’s arousal grew stronger and stronger. When I got close to the junction of Chemmy’s thighs, she laughed nervously and half-heartedly tried to push me away. “I haven’t groomed my garden recently,” she protested.

I ignored Chemmy’s protests and, brushing her wiry pubic hair out of the way, assaulted Chemmy’s pussy. Chemmy had larger labia than I’d seem before and my licking, sucking and nibbling seemed most appreciated. Avoiding Chemmy’s clit for the most part, I brought her to the edge of orgasm several times before backing off, leaving her growling with frustration. Finally, when I was short on saliva, my jaw was tiring, and my lips felt dry, I concentrated on toying with Chemmy’s clit with the tip of my tongue. The effect was electric, “Fuuuuck!” Chemmy screamed, her body involuntarily contorting as the orgasm that had been building up finally erupted.

When we had both recovered, Chemmy gestured at my erect cock. “Well?” she asked.

“Are you sure?” I double-checked.

“Absolutely.

I reached into my holdall and retrieved a condom.

“You brought condoms with you?” Chemmy asked incredulously.

I paused. “The girls, the escorts, taught me it was the responsible thing to do. I don’t know where you’ve been and you know I’ve been with escorts so it’s best for both of us.”

Chemmy nodded, so I removed the condom from its foil packet and rolled it down my cock. Then I parted Chemmy’s thighs, which had jammed shut during her orgasm, positioned my cock at her entrance and slid in. In another triumph for Mother Nature, we fitted together pretty well.

Pretty quickly we found a rhythm that suited us both. Chemmy came first, perhaps because she hadn’t come all the way down from her first orgasm. The rhythmic pulsing of Chemmy’s vagina around my cock supercharged my own arousal and after a short spell of vigorous pounding, I released into the condom.

After I had disposed of the condom, I got back into bed. I didn’t bother putting my pyjamas back on.

Chemmy gave me a strange look. “They say that once you’ve tried black, you’ll never go back,” she said. “Am I the first black woman you’ve been with?”

I thought for a while. “One of the escorts, Claudine, was mixed-race. Does that count?”

Even I could tell that wasn’t the answer Chemmy wanted or expected. But she tried again. “If I could have sex that good every night, I’d happily marry you,” she said.