“Please get off me,” says the husband. “Your body reminds me of work.” The wife clenches her toned abs for the 61st rep that day. They’d shot two grueling workout videos in the studio that morning. Now that they were back home in their bedroom, she just wanted her man to peel off her sports bra and spank her with it.
“That’s like turning down sex from a nurse because she reminds you of disease,” says the wife.
“I would never turn down sex from a nurse,” says the husband, massaging his left tricep.
The wife unglues the sweaty leggings from her preternaturally toned thighs, then pulls two 10-pound barbells from the nightstand.
“You’re just lifting those out of spite,” says the husband. “And your breathing is all wrong.”
“Fuck you.”
“Sweetheart, you know our bodies aren’t for pleasure anymore. They’re a business. People stream our exercise videos because we’re ripped and we look good in Spandex. It’s hard for me to sexualize our bodies now that they’re our only source of income.”
“I thought people watched our videos because we’re in love, which gives us positive on-screen rapport, which inspires people to feel the burn, which makes them think that by doing the fitness, they can find love too.”
“No. You think we’d have all these downloads if we were as fat as we were on our wedding day?”
“We weighed a combined 12 pounds more than we do now.”
“Exactly.” The husband adjusts himself on the mattress so he can stretch his hamstrings. He’s never been as flexible as his wife. “Most of those were yours, by the way.”
“If I gain it all back,” says the wife, unable to take her eyes off her husband’s gym shorts, “will you have sex with me again?”
“Gaining it back is not an option. We have bills to pay. More importantly, we have fans who count on us to stay in peak physical condition.”
“What if you wear a blindfold?”
“As if I wouldn’t be able to feel those rock-hard glutes.”
“Then what?” says the wife, starting a set of lateral raises. “I can’t go on like this.”
The husband flips over onto his bare stomach so he can perform a cobra stretch.
“I wonder if porn stars have this problem,” he says.
“I’ll be able to answer that in about two months after I leave you and move to the Valley.”
“Don’t be like that, baby.” He moves into a child’s pose. “Maybe if we could just, like, repurpose our bodies somehow, after work, so when we get home, they’re no longer elite athletic machines.”
“And how do you suggest we do that?” says the wife, dropping to the rug for overheard bridges.
“I don’t know,” says the husband. “But I’m feeling like we didn’t get enough cardio today. You wanna do a round of burpees?”
The wife drops her barbells. “Can we do them naked?”
“Good idea,” says the husband. “That way I can review your form.”