Just another day as I pull into the parking lot of the gym at 4:30 AM. Unsurprisingly, the only other vehicle in the lot is Emily's black BMW sedan. We're the only people who are ever here this early in the morning.
She's at least a few years older than me with fair skin, dazzling blue eyes, brown hair and the kind of body that belongs on the cover of magazines.
I'm a 24 year old mechanic with brown eyes, black hair and a muscular frame that I've spent years working on.
We give our customary casual nod as I walk pass her and head toward the weight benches. She's taking a sip of water standing next to the hip extension machine.
A small part of me rejoices that she's on that machine as that means it's her leg day.
Her leg days were always my favorite, as she somehow always does her squats and lunges in a spot that I would see in the mirror and seeing her ass in her spandex clothing always gives me a little extra motivation.
I always enjoy our conversations, but the idea of asking her out is completely out of the question.
I'm your stereotypical "too nice for his own good" guy when it comes to dating. Ever since a very ugly breakup, I've been too scared to approach a girl out of fear of being labeled as a "creep" or anything of that nature.
I get on with my workout for close to half an hour without seeing a lot of Emily as she spends quite a while on the hip extension and then uses the hip thrust machine.
She doesn't make her way over to a squat rack until I'm already over with the chest press machine.
In between sets on the chest press, I feel an unexpected tap on my shoulder. I jump a bit, not having seen her approaching.
"You mind giving me a spot?" she asks gesturing over to the racks.
"Yeah of course," I answer following her to the other side of the gym. She's in the final squat rack in the line of five. The rack is just out of view of the security cameras which makes me slightly uncomfortable.
I fight through my discomfort, telling myself that Emily wouldn't do anything.
I'm quite impressed to see that she has 275 pounds loaded on the bar as this has to weigh at least 100 pounds more than she does.
She lifts the bar up, letting out labored breaths.
As she goes down, I put my hands under her elbows as I don't want to leave them next to her chest or hips and make her uncomfortable.
She gets 3 reps down relatively quick, but struggles coming up for the fourth.
I briefly slip into gym bro mode and yell at her. "You got that! You got that!"
She gets the bar up and I help her guide it back to the rack and she undoes her weight belt and catches her breath.
She looks down at the floor for a few minutes, settling her breathing. I awkwardly stand behind her, wanting to make sure she's ok, with my hand still resting on the bar.
She turns to face me and her breasts actually rub against my hand.
I yank my hand away. "Oh my God I'm so sorry," I say with a bit of panic in my voice.
"What for?" she asks with her mouth curving into a half smile.
Did she not notice? There's no way she doesn't know what just happened.
"I... I didn't mean to... touch y... your b... boob." I nervously speak, feeling my face flush red.
After a brief moment of silence I turn and begin to walk away, embarrassed.
She puts a hand on my shoulder and turns me around.
For the next few seconds, about a hundred different things that could happen run through my mind. Best case scenario, I get banned from this gym. At worst, I get sent to prison for sexual assault.
"I'm so sorry," I repeat as she brings her face very close to mine.
"Why?"
"Because I touched your boob," I answer barely above a whisper. "It was an accident. I swear," I feel myself get more nervous by the second.
"No it wasn't," she whispers with a smirk. I feel my eyes widen and my heart drop, afraid of what she might do. She reaches down and grabs my wrist.
My body freezes as she gently guides my wrist back up to her breasts. I pull my hand away, but she keeps her grip on my wrist. "I want you to feel 'em," she whispers. "And I know you want to." My throat dries up as she gently guides my hand back toward her. "Don't you?"
I nod, my hand mere inches from her chest.
"Go ahead," she softly says.
I reluctantly feel her breast through her shirt.
"Don't be shy," she says guiding my hand into the v neck of her black spandex tank top.
My breathing picks up as I feel a breast for the first time in literal years.
"They as nice as you dreamed?" she asks. I nod, our faces are no more than six inches apart. "Good." She starts to lightly run a hand over the obvious bulge in my shorts and I begin to feel naked.
"Wait! Wait!" I cry as she begins to rub me a bit more firmly through my shorts.
"What's up?" she asks gently. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah," I answer softly. "Just I... haven't... had s... had sex in a... long time. I might... bust... in my shorts."
"How long?" I look down to her hand still resting on my thigh, her teal manicured nails only a few inches away from my cock.
"Um...," I nervously stutter. "Fo... four years."
"Oh," she says clearly caught off guard by my confession. "Are you doing like a wait until marriage thing?"
"No," I quietly say. "I had a really bad break up." I begin pulling my hand out of her top. "And I swore off dating for a long time."
She fixes her top and we stand there in silence for an awkward two minutes before I turn and walk away.
I try to go back to my own workout. But after being unable to focus for two sets, I decide to just leave.
"Hey wait," I hear Emily call as I walk toward the door.
I just pretend I didn't hear her and keep walking.
"Hey!" She calls again, much closer to me this time.
I turn my head to see her approaching me with her own gym bag over her shoulder.
I turn my body around to see her, nervously.
"Are you ok?" she softly asks.
I nod. "I'm sorry, I just really wasn't expecting that."
"That makes sense," she chuckles.
