Hot, Sweaty Love

>When you first started going to the gym, you were a skinny nerd.
>After weeks of hard training, you're still a nerd, but you're a buff nerd with more confidence.
>And you owe it all to her.
>Azar is a manticore, a rare monster from Persia with a muscular, leonine body and the tail of a scorpion.
>At first, you'd been nervous around the tall, powerful monster woman.
>Her species has a reputation as man-eaters.
>A not entirely undeserved reputation, but Azar is nothing like that.
>The first time you'd seen her, it had been from across the gym.
>She had looked frightful, fur streaked with sweat and her face grim.
>You'd wanted nothing to do with her.
>And for a while, you didn't.
>Conversely, you also were making no headway on your exercises.
>You got into a cycle of going to the gym, disappointing yourself, then giving up and going home.
>Then, one day, you tripped, and the weight you'd been returning to the rack slammed against the floor as you bumped your head.
>It was nothing serious, but it dazed you and caught the attention of the other gym-goers.
>Somebody cried out, and before you knew it, you were lifted off the ground by a pair of large, furry hands.
>"Are you alright?" They asked in a thick accent, their voice deep yet distinctly feminine.
>Dazed, you shook yourself, trying to clear the stars. You muttered something about being fine, but you weren't certain.
>"That was a bad fall." They - she - was quite gentle despite the size disparity between you.
>As she gently set you down on your feet, steadying you with a hand as she softly swiped at your brow with a padded thumb, she asked, "Should I call for an ambulance?"
>Not wanting to drag your embarrassment out any further and still dazed, you reached out to pat her shoulder.
>"OH!"
>Her startled exclamation, coupled with your hand meeting with something soft and furry, was enough to bring you back to your senses.
>You finally registered the person helping you.
>It was Azar, of course.
>She was even bigger up close, broad and tall and exuding heat.
>You'd made a miscalculation trying to pat her shoulder.
>You were still "miscalculating," as your hand lingered on her bountiful, furred bosom.
>She looked startled, and you felt you looked much the same.
>You snatched your hand away, terror welling up inside you.
>Azar could have - and still could - killed you in a dozen horrible ways.
>She didn't, of course.
>Her shock melted away as she smiled an awkward, toothy smile that at the time had horrified you.
>Her laughter was nervous and forced. "You are alright, yes?"
>And things had progressed from there.
>The only thing more powerful than your fear of the manticore had been your embarrassment and shame.
>You'd spent days afterward apologizing and making amends for your misconduct, all of which she'd assured you was unnecessary.
>When you'd offered to buy her lunch, however, things had taken a turn.
>You suppose that counted as your first date together.
>As she was on her third steak and you were still picking away at your chicken, you got into talking about your lives and your shared interests.
>That had lead to her asking if you wanted help with your workout routine, which you had.
>She was more than willing to train you, and though you were still a little nervous around her, you were happy to accept.
>That brings us back to the present, some weeks later.
>You and Azar have been dating as she trained you, and your added bulk has been quite pleasing to the both of you.
>As it turns out, manticores do have a taste for humans, though the modern expression is changed.
>Azar exemplifies it.
>Her kisses are always deep and last until you're gasping for breath.
>She enjoys lapping the sweat from your skin, savoring your salty flavor.
>When you make love, she all but demands fellatio.
>You love the blissful, satisfied look on her face as she swallows your load.
>Her adoring eyes locked with your own as she slurps and gulps lasciviously.
>For a time, you'd joined Azar at her home to work out in her home gym.
>That hadn't worked out too well as you'd spent more time fucking and less time exercising.
>Azar argues that sex in and of itself is good exercise, but a regimen needs more variety.
>You chose to remain living with her, though.
>Her house is better than yours, and she loves your company.
>So, you and she fell into a routine.
>Wake up, sex, breakfast, gym, sex, work, lunch, home, sex, yoga, sex during yoga, chores, dinner, sex, bed, sex, repeat.
>Honestly, the greatest challenge is staying hydrated.
>But you love it.
>Azar is a dynamo when she's out of her shell.
>You'll never forget the time you were bench pressing, and suddenly her large, lovely breasts were hanging in your face, bare nipples poking through her fur.
>It was a strong motivator to complete your set just so you ravish her.
>You give as good as you get, though.
>More than once you've surprised her by diving between her legs and tasting of her soft and lovely cunt.
>And her ass. Oh, her ass!
>You've numbed your hand swatting that firm, round posterior.
>There's nothing quite like pounding away at her backside, the heat of your loins broiling, and giving her chitinous tail a good tug.
>It makes her shriek and squirt every single time.
>Now, on this day, as you lay atop her hot, muscular, furry body, face buried in the deep valley of her cleavage, you consider.
>With her big, soft paw on your backside, squeezing you possessively, her face serene, you know what you want.
>You're thinking of asking her to marry you.