satisfied with how it was working, he motioned me
over. “Come stand here and I’ll show you how this works.”
Noel was always quite thorough in his instruction of how to
do an exercise and even took the time to explain what muscles it would work and
what it would do for me. Unfortunately he went through those details while
wrapping the flexible handle around my ankle. As he spoke it felt as if he were
stroking my ankle and calf. I didn’t hear a damn thing he told me to do. All I
could think about was the warmth that crept up my leg from where he was
touching me.
I’m pretty sure I nodded in agreement and made the
appropriate “I understand” noises. He patted my foot then moved out of the way
so I could begin. Somehow I fumbled around enough to make the thing work only
to be rewarded by having Noel kneel at my feet once more and attach the handle
to the other ankle. That too was followed by a light stroke up my calf. Now both legs were warm and tingly.
Not distracting at all, I told myself.
Noel continued to show me several other exercises I could do
just by moving the parts and adjusting a lever or two. After the fifth or sixth
variation I had the distinct impression that something was different about our
session. Each exercise required him to be more hands-on. Or at least it seemed
that way.
I argued with myself over whether I was imagining the
lingering touches. Eventually I was just too addled to think straight and still
maintain a calm front.
No matter what all the self-help books say about positive
thinking, I couldn’t figure out why he would be interested in me. Noel, the
yummy stud-muffin, probably had women throwing themselves at him on a daily
basis. While I never considered myself ugly, I was never model material. Since
my divorce, I made an effort to stay active and regain some of my sagging
confidence. I was determined that fantasies of Noel were not going to make a
fool of me by reading more into his attentions than was really there.
It seemed, however, that when Noel was nearby, not only did
my ability to concentrate go out the window, but it took all of my coordination
with it. As I tried to follow his instructions for using a different section of
the equipment, I turned too fast to ask a question and tripped over one of
bars. Luckily I fell against Noel instead of face-first into the machine.
It was like a scene right out of a movie. We just stared at
each other. I couldn’t think of anything except that I wished he would kiss me.
Then he did!
And was it ever good. His lips gently teased the edges of
mine until I sank further against his rock-hard body. Then he swept in with a
surprising and almost overwhelming intensity. Despite having worked out with
me, he smelled clean with faint traces of soap or aftershave. But every bit of
him smelled like man. It was amazing how right his body felt pressed against
mine.
Somehow I contained my whimper of protest when we mutually
pulled away from the kiss. I brushed my hair with my hands, trying for some
semblance of order. My ego preened when I saw that he needed a moment to
compose himself as well.
Neither of us said anything about the kiss but the sexual
tension in the air was tangible for the rest of the workout. As I finished the
last set of exercises Noel’s business partner Justin came in.
“Hey, Noel, my last client called to cancel so I’m going to
head out.” He glanced back and forth between us. “You’re the last ones here, so
do you mind locking up when you’re finished?”
“Sure, that’s not a problem.”
“Thanks, man. Julie will be thrilled that I’m home early
enough to help with the baby before dinner.”
I turned my face away to avoid looking at either Noel or
Justin. I didn’t want either of them to see the blatant lust I was sure was
evident in my expression. The prospect of being left alone with Noel after that
sizzling kiss was more than I could wish for. Part of me was afraid he wouldn’t
kiss me again.
over. “Come stand here and I’ll show you how this works.”
Noel was always quite thorough in his instruction of how to
do an exercise and even took the time to explain what muscles it would work and
what it would do for me. Unfortunately he went through those details while
wrapping the flexible handle around my ankle. As he spoke it felt as if he were
stroking my ankle and calf. I didn’t hear a damn thing he told me to do. All I
could think about was the warmth that crept up my leg from where he was
touching me.
I’m pretty sure I nodded in agreement and made the
appropriate “I understand” noises. He patted my foot then moved out of the way
so I could begin. Somehow I fumbled around enough to make the thing work only
to be rewarded by having Noel kneel at my feet once more and attach the handle
to the other ankle. That too was followed by a light stroke up my calf. Now both legs were warm and tingly.
Not distracting at all, I told myself.
Noel continued to show me several other exercises I could do
just by moving the parts and adjusting a lever or two. After the fifth or sixth
variation I had the distinct impression that something was different about our
session. Each exercise required him to be more hands-on. Or at least it seemed
that way.
I argued with myself over whether I was imagining the
lingering touches. Eventually I was just too addled to think straight and still
maintain a calm front.
No matter what all the self-help books say about positive
thinking, I couldn’t figure out why he would be interested in me. Noel, the
yummy stud-muffin, probably had women throwing themselves at him on a daily
basis. While I never considered myself ugly, I was never model material. Since
my divorce, I made an effort to stay active and regain some of my sagging
confidence. I was determined that fantasies of Noel were not going to make a
fool of me by reading more into his attentions than was really there.
It seemed, however, that when Noel was nearby, not only did
my ability to concentrate go out the window, but it took all of my coordination
with it. As I tried to follow his instructions for using a different section of
the equipment, I turned too fast to ask a question and tripped over one of
bars. Luckily I fell against Noel instead of face-first into the machine.
It was like a scene right out of a movie. We just stared at
each other. I couldn’t think of anything except that I wished he would kiss me.
Then he did!
And was it ever good. His lips gently teased the edges of
mine until I sank further against his rock-hard body. Then he swept in with a
surprising and almost overwhelming intensity. Despite having worked out with
me, he smelled clean with faint traces of soap or aftershave. But every bit of
him smelled like man. It was amazing how right his body felt pressed against
mine.
Somehow I contained my whimper of protest when we mutually
pulled away from the kiss. I brushed my hair with my hands, trying for some
semblance of order. My ego preened when I saw that he needed a moment to
compose himself as well.
Neither of us said anything about the kiss but the sexual
tension in the air was tangible for the rest of the workout. As I finished the
last set of exercises Noel’s business partner Justin came in.
“Hey, Noel, my last client called to cancel so I’m going to
head out.” He glanced back and forth between us. “You’re the last ones here, so
do you mind locking up when you’re finished?”
“Sure, that’s not a problem.”
“Thanks, man. Julie will be thrilled that I’m home early
enough to help with the baby before dinner.”
I turned my face away to avoid looking at either Noel or
Justin. I didn’t want either of them to see the blatant lust I was sure was
evident in my expression. The prospect of being left alone with Noel after that
sizzling kiss was more than I could wish for. Part of me was afraid he wouldn’t
kiss me again.
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