Whether it be the intense power dynamic, the whole sweaty, primal atmosphere coupled with the ravenous flow of endorphins, or the fact that they’re just fucking hot, most (if not all) of us have fantasised about bumping uglies with a gym-trainer.

Despite this intense fantasy, for most us, it remains just that – a fantasy. A mere pipeline dream. A weightless proposition.

There can be multiple reasons for this. I, for one, think I look like the literal grim reaper at the gym. Secondly, when I’m working out, I’m in constant survival mode, merely trying to a) not die or b) not throw up instead of c) flirting in any capacity.

Alas, that’s just me. Many brave pioneers have done the deed with their trainer, and lived to tell the tale, which begs the question, how the fuck does that even come about?

Like, how could one possibly segue from being a person in the class, to the trainer’s fucc friend? Who initiates? How does that affect the trainer/client dynamic? The questions are endless, and the fascination is ravenous, so I reached out to a couple of the aforementioned brave pioneers to get the damn tea. Time to splash.

Derrick* first noticed some flirtation when his trainer kept looking at him during class. “He said that my technique needed work and was happy to train with me.”  

“He invited me to the gym close to the end of the day for one on one training (free of charge) since everyone at the gym was gone we ended up getting close.”

They kissed as the trainer took off Derrick’s gloves, which led to the pair gloriously boning right in the middle of the gym.

“He told me he was straight/bi and said that I was cute. We proceeded to have one on one training for the next 2 years.”

Safe to say, the dynamic inevitably shifted: “We ended up being more of a ‘fuck buddy’ relationship with added free training.”

This post-coital dynamic shift happened to Hannah* as well.

She initially didn’t notice her trainer’s advances. “But we would spend a lot of time stretching which is a dead giveaway.”

One night, he asked her where she was going out, and mentioned he was going there too. “He showed up at this super bush-doof type bar in like a full suit so it was clear he had no prior intention of being there.” They ended up doing the seks in the bar’s cloak room.

They eventually started dating. “We would go out, get crazy, stay up all night having sex (dear god that muscle machine could throw me around), then get up at 5am and go to the gym. I was so damn fit. The fittest I’d ever been. The fittest I will ever be.”

The trainer/client relationship continued. “My dad was paying the bill (I was still in uni) and he got a tad suss when I would tell him I was training but he wasn’t being charged.”

But Hannah eventually moved on. “He got a little scary, so I left the gym (even though it was the best gym ever) and ghosted him. My Dad kept training with him and covered for me, saying I was super stressed out at uni and studying all the time, and pretended he had no idea what was going on. Thanks Dad.”

While each circumstance is obviously unique, all cases of casual trainer-boning seem to result in a similar life lesson – don’t shit where you eat. It just seems like it’d be impossible to continue a sound trainer/client relationship once motions are involved, feelings aren’t reciprocated, or dynamic invariably start to shift.

That being said, there’s no doubt a ‘forbidden fruit’ element to romping in the gym, which certainly adds to the desirability of the encounter. Subsequently, it’s worth weighing the pros and cons: is the thrill of gym hook-up outweigh the risk of having to change gyms? Or, if you’re adamant about staying at your current gym, do you think you’ll be able to work out through the potential awkwardness?

So much damn weighing up. I need a protein shake and a 14 hour nap.

*Not real names.

Image: Getty Images / Westend61