My name is Mike Ward and my wife, Nina, and I have been married for almost twenty
years. We got married right out of high school and we have been extremely happy. Of course
we’ve had a few arguments over the years but nothing that we weren’t able to work out.
Nina is thirty-eight and looks ten years younger. Of course, I’m biased but you
don’t have to take my word for it. Everyone we know thinks so.
Nina has a sister two years younger than she and get’s carded anytime she orders an
alcoholic beverage. All the females in Nina’s family got that particular gene or whatever
it is. Envied by women, admired by men.
When Nina and I started dating she looked young, but then again she was young being
only sixteen. We were constant companions all through high school and it came as no
surprise when we got married. It was expected and I suspect desired by her family.
Nina and I were both high school jocks and the fitness business seemed a natural
for us. I worked in a national chain of fitness centers for two years while Nina went to
our local community college to study physical fitness. After she finished her studies, she
went to work for another chain fitness center and I went to school to study business. We
were young but we had a plan and that plan did not include working for someone else.
Using both our families’ credit, we borrowed enough money to open our own fitness
center. We scrimped, saved, and worked our butts off to make a go of it.
I’ll credit some good luck but it was mostly hard work that we were able to pay off
the debt in half the time. It took some more hard work and some more good luck but we
expanded our facility and within five years, we had facilities that only the best gyms and
training services had to offer.
Now we hire eight certified physical trainers and they are always booked-up. We
had nine other employees to handle the other training and administration duties.
As a rule Nina handles all the employees and their responsibilities while I take
care of the workout equipment and the building. We never took adverse action without
consulting the other. That was why I was surprised when Nina informed me she was going to
terminate Tiffany.
“Why? What did she do?” I asked Nina the night she told me about the firing.
Tiffany had been with us for over three years. Tiffany Jordan ran the juice bar.
“She is stealing from us,” Nina said. “I suspected she had sticky fingers for
several months so I was watching her closely. Every fourth sale went into her pocket.
That’s why the revenue from the juice bar suddenly took a down-turn.”
“Really?” I said shocked. Tiffany seemed like such a nice young lady. I mentioned
that to Nina.
“Well first of all she isn’t a lady,” Nina said. “She is peddling her ass all over
town. That was more or less common knowledge. My sources tell me that she uses the gym to
make dates.”
“Hell, Nina,” I said. “We aren’t their parents. All of them that are not married
make dates at the gym. What’s the big deal?”
“Tiffany isn’t making the regular kind of dates. When I said she was peddling her
ass, I meant it literally. She is a whore, Mike.” Nina gave me that pitying look that
women always give their stupid counterparts because I should have known that, I guess.
“Hooking is one thing but stealing from us is another thing all together. Quit worrying,”
Nina said with a smile. “There are plenty of other good looking, well built women for you
to ogle.”
“I do not ogle,” I said not quiet pulling off the indignation that I was shooting
for. “I check for any flaws they might have so we can work on them,” I added. It even
sounded lame to me. “Anyway, how did you find out she was a whore?”
“Hell, Mike,” Nina said with a laugh. “I have eyes. I have ears and I have a
brain.”
Eyes, ears and brain wasn’t all Nina had. I’ll try to describe her. She’s five feet
six inches tall with smallish boobs. I think she is a 32A and she seldom wears a bra
because she doesn’t need one except when she wants to mask her hard puffy nipples. I
suppose she would have to be described as a “hard-body” because she teaches fitness and
works hard at it.
Nina is beautiful, at least to me but I suspect most men would say she’s a
wholesome, girl-next-door type. She is friendly and out-going. She keeps her coppery-red
hair cut short like most athletes. Handier when taking so many showers I suppose.
I discovered the night I proposed marriage that Nina is one hot woman. She loves
sex and has never developed a convenient headache. She had said on many occasions that she
is always ready or at least ready to get ready. Nina and I are living proof that it’s
impossible to wear out the sex organs. If not, we would have done so the first year of our
marriage.
We both came to the marriage virgins or almost virgins. We both had some narrow
escapes but remained mostly pure. Nina admitted to me that before there was an “us” she
engaged in some oral sex with her then current boyfriend.
Speaking of oral sex, Nina relishes getting and receiving oral sex. Not as much as
old fashion sex, but close. Being an adventurous lady she was the one who initiated anal
sex and that proved to be something we both liked as variety in bed.
Nina has orgasms easily and frequently during our fun and games and we always had
an active sex-life. After almost twenty years we still have fun in bed or anywhere else we
happen to be with the mood strikes us.
It was my Nina who taught me the difference in “making love” and fucking. I came
into the marriage thinking they were the same thing. Of course, I was wrong but I’d be
hard pressed to say which I liked best.
That night when Nina told me about Tiffany Jordan I got to thinking about it. I had
seen signs of her activities but had failed to recognize them for what they were. Of
course I knew Tiffany was a hot little number and the guys always flocked around her at
the juice bar but that, I thought, was normal. I knew it was good for business.
“How sure are you that Tiffany is stealing?” I asked my wife.
“Pretty sure,” she answered. “I can’t prove it, but something happened to the
revenue. I know for a fact she’s selling her pussy. I got that bit of information from the
horse’s mouth.”
“Okay, so she’s selling it,” I said. “You can’t accuse her of stealing without
absolute proof. Making an accusation might fly up and bite us on the ass. We have great
liability insurance but I wouldn’t want to test it in a lawsuit. How much are we coming up
short at the juice bar?” She said a figure that didn’t make any sense.
“Why would an intelligent pretty girl steal such a paltry amount of money?” I said.
“Maybe we should conduct an audit on the sly. I know the cost of some of the more exotic
juices have gone up considerably over the past few months. Maybe that would account for
the loss.”
“Maybe,” Nina said. “But so what if it does? Are you comfortable having an employee
who’s also a hooker?”
I grunted but declined to answer the question. Actually, I was comfortable. I
simply didn’t care what the employees did with their free time. I was sure Tiffany wasn’t
using the gym for a place to screw. Not there weren’t several places that would work. The
stacks of pads used on the floor exercises would make a perfect place to fuck. I should
know because Nina and I had used them several times.
The next morning I went to work at the gym. That was one thing Nina and I couldn’t
agree on. I called it a gym and she insisted it was a fitness center. Nina said a gym
sounded too much like a sweaty place where boxers trained and fought or a place where
basketball games are played.
When we bought the original building, it had been a boxer’s gym and I commandeered
a small section of the new building to hang the heavy bag and a couple of light bags. I
fought Golden Gloves while in high school and a short while afterward. I wasn’t good
enough to turn pro but I enjoy doing the fighter’s workout regimen. Jumping rope, using
the heavy and light bags, running, and all the other exercises was good for me and I
enjoyed it. I usually went through the drills a couple times a week.
I wondered if Tiffany was hooking if any of the other girls were. I went over the
roster in my mind while I pounded the heavy bag. Diane Larkin, Missy Miller, and Rose
Collins came to mind as possible. That caused me to laugh. What does a prostitute look
like? More than likely not like the stereotyped street hooker with short skirts and
fishnet stockings. Hell, it could be any or all of the instructors or members. Since I
didn’t know what I was looking for Lara Petree, Hannah Willson, Janet Carter, Alice Johns,
and Dixie Morton the other instructors could also be hooking. Maybe not Dixie Morton
because she was married. That prompted another laugh. Where was it written a married woman
couldn’t be a prostitute?
I finished up my workout and showered. I was getting dressed when Abner Gribble
came into the dressing room. Ab was a middle-aged black man who had started working for
Nina and I almost from the day we started. He did all the janitorial work and most of the
handyman duties. We inherited Ab from the old gym and he was a jewel.
“How’s it going, Ab?” I asked him.
“Couldn’t be any better, boss,” he replied with a huge grin. I suspected that was
true for him. Ab was closer to fifty than he was forty but acted like a twenty-year-old
kid. He got more pussy than any five men should get. One time he told me if I could be a
nigger for one weekend, I would never want to go back to being white. I was aware that Ab
was often the target for white women.
“Great,” I said to Ab. “You getting any?”
“Getting’ enough,” he replied. “The ladies seem to like what ol’ Ab is packin’”.
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