Monday evening arrived with a storm, literal and figurative. Rain hammered the gym’s roof, creating a backdrop to the final minutes of class. Ashley moved through the closing exercises, her body on the mat but her mind elsewhere. Specifically, on what might happen after everyone else left.

Four days had passed since her encounter with Carlos in the shower. Four days of lying beside Jacob at night, of casual conversations over breakfast, of helping him navigate his ongoing shoulder recovery, all while carrying the secret of her infidelity, constantly present yet hidden from view.

Four days of text messages, too. Carlos had been restrained but persistent, his messages professional on the surface but loaded with implication that made her pulse quicken whenever her phone buzzed.

Carlos: Looking forward to seeing your technique develop in tonight’s class.

Carlos: The gym will be empty after 8:30 if you want to work on that transition we discussed.

Carlos: Been thinking about your guard retention. It’s particularly impressive from certain angles.

She’d responded with equal caution, maintaining the appearance of student-teacher interaction while acknowledging the invitation beneath. And now, as the class bowed out and people began gathering their belongings, the pressure of anticipation built in her chest, between her legs, in every nerve ending that remembered Carlos’s touch.

“Great work tonight, everyone,” Carlos called from the front of the room. “Remember to drill those transitions before Wednesday.”

Students filtered toward the locker rooms, conversations fading as the space gradually emptied. Ashley took her time rolling her gi sleeves down, retying her belt, creating the appearance of meticulous attention to her uniform while actually ensuring she would be the last student remaining.

From across the room, Carlos caught her eye, a brief moment of connection that carried clear understanding. He turned to speak with a departing purple belt, his manner casual, unhurried, giving no indication of what they both knew was coming.

Ashley headed toward the women’s locker room, heart hammering as she passed Liz at the front desk.

“Staying late?” Liz asked, not looking up from the schedule she was updating.

“Just need to stretch properly,” Ashley replied, the lie coming more easily now with practice. “My hip flexors are killing me after those triangle drills.”

Liz nodded, apparently accepting the explanation without interest. “Lock up when you leave if Carlos is gone. The alarm code is on the whiteboard in his office.”

“Thanks.”

In the locker room, Ashley changed into a fresh sports bra. Purple this time, matching the underwear she’d selected with care that morning. She splashed water on her face, ran a comb through her hair, applied a touch of the tinted lip balm she’d begun carrying in her gym bag. Small rituals of preparation that both excited and disgusted her, the planning of her betrayal made manifest in these little actions.

When she emerged, the gym had emptied completely except for Carlos, who stood at the front desk reviewing something on the computer. He looked up as she approached, his expression shifting from professional focus to something darker.

“Everyone gone?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

“Just us,” he confirmed, saving whatever he’d been working on and shutting down the computer. “Liz thinks I’m staying to work on competition footage. What’s your excuse?”

“Tight hip flexors,” Ashley said with a small smile. “Very believable, I thought.”

“Very.” Carlos rounded the desk, moving into her space slowly, giving her time to retreat if she chose. “I’ve been thinking about you all week.”

The simple admission, spoken in his accented English, sent a pulse of heat through her core. “Me too,” she confessed. “About you. About… what happened.”

“No regrets?” he asked.

“I should,” Ashley said honestly. “But no. No regrets.”

Carlos’s hand came up to cup her face, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. “Good. Because I want to taste you again.”

The directness of his statement, the raw honesty of his desire, made her pulse quicken. This was what had drawn her to him from the beginning, the unapologetic way he moved through the world, taking what he wanted without hesitation.

Ashley leaned into his touch, her eyes holding his. “Not here,” she said softly. “Too exposed.”

Carlos nodded, understanding immediately. “Locker room,” he suggested. “Men’s is better. No one will come in this late, and it has a proper lock.”

She hesitated only briefly before nodding. “Let me get my bag.”

Carlos locked the door behind them, sealing them into their private world.

They moved quickly to the men’s locker room.

“Come here,” Carlos said, sitting on one of the benches, drawing her between his legs.

Ashley went willingly, her hands finding his shoulders as he looked up at her. The power dynamic was temporarily reversed, her standing over him, but they both knew who was really in control.

Carlos’s hands went to her gi top, untying her belt, pushing the heavy white fabric from her shoulders. The purple sports bra beneath drew an appreciative smile.

“You wore this for me,” he observed, not a question but a statement of fact.

“Yes,” Ashley admitted. No point in denying the premeditation, the conscious choice.

“I like that. I like knowing you think about me while you’re getting dressed. That you planned for this.”

There was something freeing in being seen so completely, in having the darker parts of herself recognized and accepted rather than judged.

Carlos leaned forward, pressing his mouth to her stomach, just above the waistband of her gi pants. Even through the fabric, the touch of his lips made her shiver. His hands moved to the drawstring, loosening it.

“I’ve been thinking about your pussy all week,” he murmured against her skin as he pushed the pants down her hips. “How tight you were. How wet you got for me.”

Ashley stepped out it, now standing in front of him in just her sports bra and the matching underwear.

“Take these off,” he instructed, fingers hooking in the waistband of her underwear. “I want to see all of you.”

Ashley complied, pushing the underwear down her legs while Carlos watched. When she stood naked from the waist down, he guided her closer, spreading her thighs slightly with his hands.

“Perfect,” he murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to the soft skin of her inner thigh. “Hold onto my shoulders.”

She did as instructed, her fingers digging into the muscle as Carlos’s mouth moved higher. When his tongue finally made contact with her pussy, tracing a path through her folds, Ashley gasped, her legs trembling slightly.

Carlos took his time, exploring her. The tip of his tongue circled her clit without providing the direct pressure she craved. His hands gripped her ass, holding her firmly in place as he teased and tasted, building her arousal with patience.

“Carlos,” she breathed, her hips tilting forward instinctively, seeking more.

He responded by focusing his attention where she needed it most, his tongue against her clit, applying firm, steady pressure that made her moan. One hand left her ass, and she felt his fingers trace her entrance, gathering her wetness before slowly pushing inside.

The sensation quickly built toward orgasm. Ashley’s head fell back, her breath coming in short gasps as pleasure coiled tighter in her core.

“I’m close,” she warned, her fingers now tangled in his short hair.

Carlos intensified his efforts, his tongue moving in firm circles while his fingers found that spot inside her that made stars explode behind her eyelids. When he sucked her clit between his lips, applying gentle pressure with his teeth, she shattered, her orgasm washing through her in pulsing waves, her inner walls clenching around his fingers, her thighs trembling.

He didn’t stop, continuing through her climax, drawing out every aftershock until she had to push at his shoulders, the sensation becoming too intense.

“Enough,” she gasped, her legs barely supporting her weight. “Too much.”

Carlos looked up at her, his mouth glistening with her arousal, his eyes dark with desire. “Never enough,” he corrected, but he withdrew his fingers, allowing her a moment to recover.

Ashley took a shaky breath, then reached down to pull at his gi top. “Your turn. Take this off.”

Carlos complied, standing to remove his gi top and the rashguard beneath, revealing his muscular torso. Ashley’s hands went to his chest, fingers tracing the definition of his pectoral muscles, the dusting of dark hair that narrowed to a trail disappearing beneath his gi pants.

“These too,” she instructed, tugging at his waistband, enjoying the momentary role reversal.

Carlos smirked but obeyed, untying his pants and pushing them down along with his underwear, his cock springing free, already hard and glistening with pre-cum.

Ashley sank to her knees in front of him, her hands running up his thighs, feeling the muscle beneath warm skin. Carlos’s breathing deepened as she wrapped one hand around the base of his shaft, her thumb tracing the prominent vein that ran its length.

“I’ve been thinking about this too,” she admitted, leaning forward to run her tongue along the underside of his cock, from base to tip. “About tasting you.”

Carlos’s hand came to rest on the back of her head, applying a gentle pressure. “Then taste me,” he encouraged. “Take my cock in your mouth.”

Ashley parted her lips, taking the head of his cock into her mouth, savoring the salt-sweet taste of him, the velvet hardness against her tongue. She swirled her tongue around the sensitive ridge, gathering the pre-cum that beaded at the tip, before taking him deeper.

“Fuck,” Carlos hissed, his fingers tightening in her hair. “Your mouth feels amazing.”

Encouraged by his response, Ashley established a rhythm, taking him as deep as she comfortably could before retreating, her hand working what her mouth couldn’t reach. She looked up, meeting his gaze as she moved, the eye contact adding another layer of intimacy to the act.

“That’s it,” he praised, his hips making small movements as if restraining himself from thrusting deeper. “You look so fucking good with my cock in your mouth.”

The words, crude and possessive, heightened her own arousal. There was power in this act, in reducing this controlled, dominant man to broken phrases and tightened muscles. Ashley hollowed her cheeks, increasing the suction, her tongue pressing firmly against the underside of his shaft.

Carlos groaned, his free hand bracing against the locker behind him. “If you keep that up,” he warned, “I’m going to come.”

Ashley didn’t relent. Instead she increased her pace, her hand twisting slightly as it followed her mouth, creating a spiral of sensation that had Carlos’s thighs tensing beneath her palm. She wanted this, wanted to taste his release, to bring him the same pleasure he’d given her.

“Ashley,” he groaned, his control clearly wearing out. “I’m going to-”

She didn’t stop and seconds later, Carlos’s cock pulsed against her tongue, his release flooding her mouth in hot spurts. Ashley continued her movements through his orgasm, swallowing each pulse, savoring the slightly bitter taste that was uniquely him.

Only when he softened slightly did she release him, sitting back on her heels, a sense of satisfaction warming her chest at the sight of him, the always controlled instructor now breathing heavily, his expression almost vulnerable in the aftermath of release.

Carlos extended a hand, pulling her to her feet and into a kiss. If he could taste himself on her lips, he seemed unbothered by it.

“You’re full of surprises,” he murmured when they parted.

“Good ones, I hope,” Ashley replied, suddenly self-conscious in her half-dressed state.

“Very good.” Carlos brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Stay a while. I’m not done with you yet.”

And he wasn’t. By the time they finally left the gym an hour later, Carlos had bent her over one of the benches and taken her from behind with an intensity that left her legs trembling. Ashley drove home in a state of satisfied exhaustion, her body bearing the invisible imprint of their encounter, her mind already calculating when they could meet again.

Jacob was asleep when she arrived, his pain medication having pulled him under despite his intention to wait up for her. Ashley showered quickly, washing away the physical evidence before slipping into bed beside him, the dual reality of her life now so familiar it almost seemed normal.