something sexy in the parts of me that were hidden, in the way that the material pulled tantalisingly around my lean muscles when I stretched. I almost felt, I guess, like a real fighter.
Forget yoga: this was good for my core strength.
As we walked across the car park towards the old garage, it took everything I had to not tell Rebecca what had happened between me and Raoul. Thankfully, she was talking too giddily about a new French class she’d started on Tuesday evenings, yet another ploy to get over Darren, and she was so effusive about it I barely got a word in edgeways.
Thankfully (hallelujah!) we were just on time. We paid our money just before the cash tin was closed, and then we took off our shoes and got in line. Raoul gave me a look, as I stood there, but I wasn’t sure what the look meant. I enjoyed our sex last Friday? I want you now, baby? Sorry I never got your number? I think I’m falling in love with you? It was impossible to tell.
As usual, the warm-up was a killer, but I managed to keep pace with Rebecca, who was struggling to follow the instructions a little, having missed last week. As we sat on the floor and I held down Rebecca’s calves as she did her sit-ups, I allowed my eyes to wander, looking for Ben. He was at the other end of the room, with an orange belt guy as his partner. He caught me staring at him, for a moment, then smiled valiantly, and looked away.
I lay back on the floor to take my turn-for the sit-ups, and waited for Raoul to give instructions for us to begin. I felt my black top riding up a little, showing a thin strip of my midriff, and I noticed Raoul’s eyes, blazing down on me.
One… he said, and everyone on the floor lifted their chests off the ground, exhaling.
Two… Up I went and we exhaled again.
Every time I lifted my chest off the floor, breasts high in the air, I felt Raoul’s eyes on me. He just wouldn’t stop staring. For a moment, I felt like I was the only person in the room.
I felt the muscles in my stomach stretching and straining, and my vest riding up further every time I fell to the floor. I desperately wanted to keep pace with his instructions.
Twenty two… twenty three…
My face was reddening, my thighs were beginning to shake, but still I continued, up and down, up and down, maintaining eye contact with him each time I rose off the floor. I felt like a sex object, but powerful. A sex subject.
Once the warm-ups were over, we began practising our hooks. Left foot forwards, wind up at the hip, and then: smack.
The muscles in my arms were growing. I heard a sturdy thud when I hit Rebecca’s focus mitt. I couldn’t believe how much stronger I’d got in just three sessions. Maybe all that ballet as a child had remained in my muscle memory somehow. There was an athlete inside me, raring to get out. Except this was no ballet. Smack.
I felt it again, that wild inner warrior, snarling in my gut as I punched. Smack. Smack.
Raoul prowled around the room, and I felt his eyes on me no matter where he was standing.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
He wanted me. I could feel it so intensely. I could almost smell it above the stench of the gym.
Smack smack smack smack smack.
He was hooked.
Suddenly, Raoul stopped the class. ‘Step forwards for a moment, Michaela.’
Fist in the air, elbow up, I paused. Me? What was he about to do? Make a declaration of love to me in front of the whole class? Surely not.
‘Come over here, Michaela.’
I walked over to him and he held out his hands,s, taking my gloves in his palms.
Oh God, he was holding my hands in front of everyone. I didn’t dare look at Rebecca; she’d be livid with me for not telling her about this in private first.
‘Now put your arms up as you had them,’ Raoul said, and guided my left hand up to one side, and my right hand to my cheek, where it had been sitting.
‘Move around a bit if you like,’ he said to the class. ‘Everyone take a look at Rebecca.’
What the hell was
Forget yoga: this was good for my core strength.
As we walked across the car park towards the old garage, it took everything I had to not tell Rebecca what had happened between me and Raoul. Thankfully, she was talking too giddily about a new French class she’d started on Tuesday evenings, yet another ploy to get over Darren, and she was so effusive about it I barely got a word in edgeways.
Thankfully (hallelujah!) we were just on time. We paid our money just before the cash tin was closed, and then we took off our shoes and got in line. Raoul gave me a look, as I stood there, but I wasn’t sure what the look meant. I enjoyed our sex last Friday? I want you now, baby? Sorry I never got your number? I think I’m falling in love with you? It was impossible to tell.
As usual, the warm-up was a killer, but I managed to keep pace with Rebecca, who was struggling to follow the instructions a little, having missed last week. As we sat on the floor and I held down Rebecca’s calves as she did her sit-ups, I allowed my eyes to wander, looking for Ben. He was at the other end of the room, with an orange belt guy as his partner. He caught me staring at him, for a moment, then smiled valiantly, and looked away.
I lay back on the floor to take my turn-for the sit-ups, and waited for Raoul to give instructions for us to begin. I felt my black top riding up a little, showing a thin strip of my midriff, and I noticed Raoul’s eyes, blazing down on me.
One… he said, and everyone on the floor lifted their chests off the ground, exhaling.
Two… Up I went and we exhaled again.
Every time I lifted my chest off the floor, breasts high in the air, I felt Raoul’s eyes on me. He just wouldn’t stop staring. For a moment, I felt like I was the only person in the room.
I felt the muscles in my stomach stretching and straining, and my vest riding up further every time I fell to the floor. I desperately wanted to keep pace with his instructions.
Twenty two… twenty three…
My face was reddening, my thighs were beginning to shake, but still I continued, up and down, up and down, maintaining eye contact with him each time I rose off the floor. I felt like a sex object, but powerful. A sex subject.
Once the warm-ups were over, we began practising our hooks. Left foot forwards, wind up at the hip, and then: smack.
The muscles in my arms were growing. I heard a sturdy thud when I hit Rebecca’s focus mitt. I couldn’t believe how much stronger I’d got in just three sessions. Maybe all that ballet as a child had remained in my muscle memory somehow. There was an athlete inside me, raring to get out. Except this was no ballet. Smack.
I felt it again, that wild inner warrior, snarling in my gut as I punched. Smack. Smack.
Raoul prowled around the room, and I felt his eyes on me no matter where he was standing.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
He wanted me. I could feel it so intensely. I could almost smell it above the stench of the gym.
Smack smack smack smack smack.
He was hooked.
Suddenly, Raoul stopped the class. ‘Step forwards for a moment, Michaela.’
Fist in the air, elbow up, I paused. Me? What was he about to do? Make a declaration of love to me in front of the whole class? Surely not.
‘Come over here, Michaela.’
I walked over to him and he held out his hands,s, taking my gloves in his palms.
Oh God, he was holding my hands in front of everyone. I didn’t dare look at Rebecca; she’d be livid with me for not telling her about this in private first.
‘Now put your arms up as you had them,’ Raoul said, and guided my left hand up to one side, and my right hand to my cheek, where it had been sitting.
‘Move around a bit if you like,’ he said to the class. ‘Everyone take a look at Rebecca.’
What the hell was
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