Everyone's so obsessed with getting lean for the season, chasing that perfect beach body, and sure, that's fine — but nobody's talking about the workout that actually matters: what's happening downstairs. So forget the gym. Today we're doing Tabata. Interval training, my rules, my rhythm, and your cock is the only equipment you need.
I call the intervals and you obey them — faster, harder, however you need to get there, however messy it gets.
Every round I push you closer to the edge and then I pull you right back, because there's no coming without my permission. You'll stroke until your arm burns, stop the second I say stop, and go again the second I say go, over and over, faster each round, until you're right there begging with nowhere to go. Maybe I let you finish.
Maybe I don't decide until the very last second — you won't know which round is the one that counts, so you'd better stay ready for every single one.
Your stamina belongs to my stopwatch now.
