Mikasa Ackerman Workout Novels & Stories

I smiled, pressing my thigh against his palm, feeling the warmth seep through. After breakfast, I changed into my workout gear: tight leggings that hugged every curve of my arse and pussy lips, a sports bra that left my midriff exposed, nipples faintly visible through the thin material. No knickers—easier access. The drive to the village gym was short, my mind racing with possibilities. Marcus was in his late twenties, built like a rugby player, with dark skin, shaved head, and eyes that stripped you bare. I'd flirted shamelessly before, brushing against him during stretches, but today, I wanted more.

It was nothing special for a woman to worry about her figure, joining a gym to stay trim, but boxing was another level and he knew it best. Akira watched intently, noticing how interested her boss was in Lana. Boxing was one of his passions, and she scheduled sessions with his personal trainer at least three times a week so that he could work out his frustrations while staying fit. She knew how exciting it must have been for him to learn Lana was more than a pretty face because he needed more than a shallow association if he had any chance of making a real connection.

With surprising agility, he slid open, stepped clear of, and then shut the door, throwing the room into darkness except for the pale sunlight seeping in through the paper windows. As the commotion went on outside, Aki floated backwards to camouflage herself amid the banners and shadows of the wall. She tried to regulate her breathing. Through her yoga training, she had learned to reduce her breaths to the point that her heartbeat and metabolism would become very slow and her body would conserve energy. She had resumed sitting seiza-style, half-kneeling half-sitting, this time in the dark and fighting back her curiosity with all the restraint she could muster.

Marcus was behind the desk when I walked in. He was taller than he looked on the website photos—broad shoulders, arms thick from years of lifting, dark hair cropped short, a faint scar running along his left eyebrow. Forty-three, divorced, owner and head trainer. He smiled when I handed over my membership card—polite, professional—but his eyes dropped to my hips for half a second longer than necessary. “First time here?” he asked. “Yeah,” I said. “Trying to get in shape for fall semester.” He nodded, handed me a towel, pointed toward the free weights.

She didn't even know there was a right way to fall. Breeana got breathless really quickly. "We need to get you started on weight training and you need to up your running game. You are running out of stamina too quickly. We need to also work on…" Nelson continued to speak but she had zoned out already. Reece was there. Perhaps she should have expected it. He was getting more involved in pack security after the attack so of course, he would be on the training grounds. Reece was shirtless and Breeana couldn't help staring. He was ripped. His abs were unreal and his muscles flexed with each movement as he sparred with two opponents at the same time. His black hair fell towards his face as he mov

After clapping her hands excitedly, she pulled me to the mirror and I couldn’t help but notice how good I looked in the kit too. “I like it” I muttered to myself but Rita heard me and she nodded with so much excitement as she agreed with what I said. It was a full vest and the whole back was covered too so there was no way my scars would be exposed while I trained then it wasn’t shorts that came with mine. Instead, it was a pair of ankle length workout leggings and they were very comfortable for me so I liked them. Especially since they were both black in color.

Her eyes flickered back to brown. No one noticed. Silence rang in the gym. Gregor groaned on the ground, clutching his jaw and knee. A few other recruits stared wide eyed. Ace looked between Laura and the fallen Gregor. Laura took a deep breath then straightened her spine, and without a word, walked past them toward the machines. Inside, Miguma whimpered like a child. And Laura? She didn’t smile. She just went to the bench press machine. —————— Later that evening in the gym, Laura asked Miguma about her history and why she was here, inside of her.

Gym Locker Room Domination Chain The locker room reeked of sweat and steam, the post-workout haze thick as Mia stumbled in, her lithe body pumped from her first solo sessio ttank top clinging transparently to her sports bra, shorts riding high on sweat-slick thighs. Nineteen, fresh-faced gym rat chasing gains, she'd caught eyes all hour: the alpha trainer, Jax, with his chiseled V-taper and bulging quads; his jock crew five ripped beasts, tanks discarded, cocks outlined in compression shorts.

"Try the heavy ropes!" "Oi, don't close your eyes. We still need to train!" For a whole day, both soldiers urged Mason to run, and work out and gave him classes on how to defeat one's opponent in a fight. "I hate you both." Mason took a heavy breath. For 13 days, his routine was: Eat, run, workout, train, repeat. *** 14 days later: Jessica's wedding was 2 days later and the risk was high. Mason stood confidently. This time his confidence was different. His skin colour had gone a little tanned with him working out constantly under the sun. He looked extremely attractive.

Then we moved on to neck stretches, shoulder rotations, exercises for the stomach and digestive system, waist and lower back warm-up, leg exercises, calves, and ankles. After that, we stretched each other while laughing and finished on the treadmill for about twenty minutes. That made me take off the jacket I had on; I was in a comfortable top that showed my waist, and I didn't overthink it. I noticed Alessio occasionally glancing around with a furrowed brow. "What's wrong?" I asked. "They're looking at you as if you're some kind of exhibition," he said, annoyed, but I smiled. "It's normal. You don't often see a Yakuza's wife in a training center," I said sarcastically.