How i lost 40 pounds (hint: hot trainers)

I used to be fat, but then I stumbled on, with the help of my wife, just a little extra motivation:  “Why don’t you hire a hot trainer?” she said.

Never one to do things half-assed, or to look a gift horse in the mouth (not to call you a horse, babe), I hired not one but four.  (Well, really two, but at least initially, four….)

I placed an ad on Craigslist:  the ad said, essentially, “I need a hot trainer to motivate me.  If you’re willing to dress as I reasonably request and willing to talk endlessly and openly about sex with me….  Let me be clear:  I’m NOT looking for sex.”

I weeded through the responses – many were from “legitimate” trainers who professed to be scandalized by what I was proposing, but nonetheless responded, in hopes that what I really wanted was just a trainer.  When I made it clear that I was serious – that I really wanted a trainer who would dress as I asked, and who was comfortable talking endlessly about sex – they evaporated.  A whole other group were women simply looking for some extra money – neither trainers nor particularly compelled by the proposal.

But the third group – that was where the action was, for me.  Women who were, genuinely, trainers, but who were maybe looking to beef up their clientele a bit.  AND who were playful, who were intrigued, who were curious.  I met these women for coffee, where we sat, objectified one another, and auditioned:  would they take me as a client seriously?  I wasn’t offering to pay more or differently than any other trainer’s client would pay, but I was asking for a whole lot more/different.  And would I hire them?  Were they hot enough?  Flirty enough?  Sexual enough?

At the end of the day, there were four with whom I established a rapport.  None was what I would describe as my “type,” inasmuch as I have a type.  Each was different.  There was the Southern Belle, tall, lean, and seemingly princess-proper, who revealed herself to be a slut (or at least to enjoy portraying herself as one).  My favorite tale of hers involved a guy who approached her on a train saying, “Wanna fuck?”  Her answer:  “Why yes!  Yes, I do.”  The Midwestern girl next door, brunette, stocky, muscular, who is painfully headed toward a conventionally monogamous existence with a guy – they’re not yet engaged, but seem to have a relationship doomed to unhappiness and sexual misery, at best.  (He seems entirely uninterested in her entirely unexplored, but evidently quite healthy, appetite for being beaten.)  The Actress – tall, blonde, angular – who’s kinky as all get-out, and yet nowhere near as kinky as her boyfriend (she’s into D/S; he’s into cuckolding).  The Actress just loves talking about her – and my – exploits.  I’m not sure which turn her on more.  And the Weightlifter – who’s petite but built – vanilla and conventional, but very sexual, and loves to flirt.

The Southern Belle and the Midwestern Girl Next Door quickly evolved to supporting roles – they make occasional guest appearances in my fitness life, when I have a jones for one or the other.

But the other two?  They have staying power.  I hired them each more than two years ago, and we’re all still together.  I weight a lot less now, and we know each other a lot better….