In the empty gym, I knelt on a yoga mat, my body posed in various ways by unseen, strong hands. It had been so long since I'd felt that kind of release, and in my mind, the deepest desires simmering within me were finally unleashed. Until, in my fantasy, one of them whispered into my ear, "Daisy, do you prefer it from the front or the back?" "Both… I like both…" My name is Daisy Miller, and I own a gym. To outsiders, I had it all. Graduating from a performing arts school, I was pretty and fit, and I married Mark, a beefy bodybuilder. Everyone must have imagined I lived a life of constant ecstasy. But the truth? That was a whole different story. Ever since Mark decided to enter the National Bodybuilding Championship two months ago, he hadn’t touched me once. No matter how much I flirted with him, even going as far as to pull down his pajama pants, the answer was always the same: "Haven't I told you? I'm abstaining until after the competition." "Not a single drop of protein can be wasted!" Watching Mark walk off to the guest room, clutching a pillow, a hollow ache settled in my chest. All that man cared about was lifting weights, hoarding his 'premium protein' to burn it all on gym equipment. He didn't spare a thought for how long his wife had been craving intimacy. Didn't he worry I’d stray? The next day, as I changed in the gym, I seethed internally. The fitness industry was cutthroat, and profits were slim. Luckily, Mark had a reputation in the bodybuilding world, drawing in plenty of clients. But there was a downside. Over time, our regular clientele became nothing but a bunch of muscleheads, with hardly any women around. I knew, deep down, that these gym bros stayed not just for Mark’s professional guidance, but more importantly, because they all wanted to sleep with me. While I despised the industry trend of using looks to retain clients, I found myself reluctantly bowing to reality. Every three days, I scheduled a "Spin-Cycle Special." On Spin-Cycle days, every single member showed up. I'd change into a thong and low-rise yoga pants, dim the lights, crank up the DJ music to maximum hype, and lead the class from the front, wearing my headphones. As the movements grew more intense, I'd deliberately arch my back, raising my hips to expose a few inches of butt cleavage, swaying provocatively. In the floor-to-ceiling mirror at the front, I could clearly see the muscleheads staring, their eyes fixated on my ass and the distinct outline of my bikini line. Initially, every time I did this, I felt deeply embarrassed. The yoga pants were so thin and tight, it was practically like being nude. But somewhere along the line, this secret, audacious display began to fill me with a thrill I'd never known. Especially when those men, thinking I couldn't hear them over my headphones, breathed heavily and mumbled lewd comments about my rear. It made my skin tingle, as if I was being zapped by electricity. "The boss lady's waist… that big, white ass, she really knows how to move it…" "So round and firm, just makes you want to take a bite…" "If I were her husband, I'd keep her in bed all day!" Their filthy whispers made my face flush, a mix of shame and heightened pleasure. I twisted my hips harder, the movements growing wilder, revealing more… and more. Yes, just like men liked hearing women moan, I liked hearing men spout dirty talk. It made me feel incredibly good, incredibly aroused. Normally, after these unspoken "benefits" were over, we’d all hit the showers, change, and head home. But for some reason, after today’s spin class, seeing the longing, disappointed looks in those muscleheads’ eyes, my long-empty body urged me to keep provoking them. So I put down my bag, turned, and walked to the dumbbell rack. I spread my legs, arched my butt, bent forward, and gripped a barbell, once again showcasing my round backside to them. "Ma'am, that's not the right posture… you'll hurt your back…" Before I could even lift the barbell, a young, muscular man stepped forward. He placed a hand on my lower back and another on the inside of my thigh. So hard! That was my first sensation upon touching a man's body again. I snuck a peek back. It was Alex Stone, a new member who’d joined two days ago. I hadn't realized how powerfully built he was, and his body heat was scorching! "When doing deadlifts, you need to engage your back, glutes, and thighs…" Alex didn't let go. He held my bare, slender waist and pressed close from behind, then reached down to pat my lower abdomen, thigh, and back, forcing my butt to arch even higher. "Hips up… yes… just like that… spread your legs a little wider…" As Alex guided me, he kept pressing his lower abdomen into my butt, occasionally brushing a sensitive spot. As an adult woman, I knew exactly what he was doing. And I also knew that my firm, elastic curves were clearly exciting him. This was the first time in two months I'd been this close to a man. So I didn't stop him. Instead, I moved with his rhythm, slightly bending my knees, subtly swaying my hips, gently grinding against his lower abdomen. All I could think was, If I licked his abs, he’d probably be incredibly sensitive. With a body this strong, he must be amazing in bed. Finally, my body went limp, and I couldn't hold the barbell any longer. It crashed to the floor with a "thud." Only then did I realize I was completely surrounded by men. The one pressing against me from behind wasn't even Alex anymore; it was an even taller, stronger musclehead. "You… you guys keep working out. I… I need to shower." Finally, I couldn't bear their ravenous gazes any longer. I bolted into the shower room like a thief and stripped off my clothes. The water poured down from the showerhead, splashing over my bare skin, but it couldn't extinguish the fire raging within me. If… if I hadn’t run, they would have pounced, torn my clothes off. I trembled, goosebumps rising all over my skin. I would have been… overwhelmed, maybe even taken by several of them at once. My hands trembled on the wall, and I instinctively arched my back, hips thrust out. My mind raced with forbidden images of a man in front, one behind, gripping my hair, holding my waist… A forbidden shiver coursed through me, turning into a desperate excitement. I reached down, my fingers exploring—
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