Shutting the car door on a Friday afternoon could only mean one thing. I'm back at home after a full week of work. Pebbles crinkle and snap beneath the leather soles of my oxfords as I step and turn from my car toward my house. As I walk toward a known place, my mind wanders back to an imaginary place that has existed for longer than I care to admit. Maybe it's a good thing. An extended build-up. A prolonged edging. My imaginary place is always in the back of my mind. It's agonizingly real in my imagination, but somehow unrealistic and untouchable in day to day life. Or at least not a reality that I'll experience. That's okay - I will just continue to fantasize about her and replay it over and over.
The door swings open and I enter that familiar smell of home and welcome the solitude. Before getting too relaxed, I run through my routine. Feed the fish. Whip together some dinner, a combination of homemade sauce and ravioli from my favorite Italian market. Add some roasted veggies and a glass of Cab and enjoy.
I'll see her this weekend. Our paths usually cross at the gym on Saturdays. She takes a yoga class that's around the same time I use the weight equipment, but it's when we are each finishing our workouts that we typically see each other. We don't know one another, but every time we cross paths we smile and utter single syllable pleasantries like Hi or Hey. There's just one catch, our eyes lock on each other almost intently for a moment. Each time we do this I feel a rush of energy flow through my body. Fleeting, yet bold with sensation. It's the highlight of my week.
The morning alarm demands attention. How do they make alarms so annoying? Even when I set the volume low, the jolting tone triumphs in its bid to agitate. Shake it off - it's Saturday. I become flush with excitement and imagine her again. Her smile is genuine, but it's her lips that are inviting. Their subtle lines and ridges indicate a softness, a suppleness. I Imagine her lips on mine, and on my cock. She wears tight leggings and a sports bra every weekend, and when I see her after a workout she has beads if sweat lining her collar bone and chest. The visuals are exhilarating. Sometimes I'll catch a glimpse of her ass, too. The leggings conceal a lot because they're usually dark, but just enough curves reveal themselves to tease my mind.
After my upper-body routine, which is typically what I do on Saturdays, I grab a towel from the towel and water station and head toward the locker room. As I take my sweat soaked workout clothes off I can't help but notice my sweaty and engorged muscles bulging just a bit more than usual due to the workout. I'm not a muscle head but am aware enough to know I have decent definition. Once everything is off, I head to the shower to clean up after the hard workout. I pay close attention to clean everywhere which I would do normally but on Saturdays particularly I would clean everywhere with her in mind.
Leaving the locker room I have the rest of my weekend too of mind. Chores like cleaning and yard work, and an afternoon meet-up with friends at a brewery to catch up. Leaving the locker room is also my last chance to see her for the week. I throw my gym bag over my shoulder, adjust the strap cushion so it's properly fitted (it always needs adjusting, am I right?), and make my way into the hall. At that moment, she walks out of the women's locker room into the same hall. We have a brief moment of surprise together, and immediately engage each other's eyes for our usual interaction. This time though, I need to know more about her. I won't let this opportunity pass me by.
Our eyes locked, walking next to each other I say "Feels good to get it in, doesn't it?"
"Definitely," she replies, eyes locked the entire time. She continued, "If I don't fit it in I'm just not the same for the weekend."
