Amy stood in her underwear at the bench where she and Tracy had agreed to meet, as she scoped the crowd. Thousands of scantily clad people filled Central Park, ready for the "Underwear Run." Her own attire consisted of a sports-bra and racer-type bottoms designed to look like underwear by their markings. Amy had not run in anything so skimpy since her college track team days, but her outfit seemed modest compared to some of the brave souls baring their bods for charity in varying degrees of nudity.
She scanned the crowd again, hoping to see Tracy. It surprised her when her non-runner friend expressed an interest in coming, but she said she and William wanted to join in on the spectacle, even if in the end she just walked and gawked.
From a distance, Amy could see Miles and his wife, who wore a slip over her underwear and looked very classy. Miles looked decent in his underwear, but it had been his personality that attracted Amy anyway. A group of women in push up bras and real panties stood nearby, using feather boas as a passing nod to modesty. Then there were those who let it all hang out, including --
Oh my god! Tracy, William
--
and John!
Tracy hadn't mentioned that John would be coming, yet here they all were, strutting towards her in their underwear.
"Amy!" Tracy yelled as soon as she spotted her. Seeing her friends in their underwear felt bizarre, and while Tracy's outfit didn't surprise Amy, it sure turned a lot of heads. Tracy oozed sexiness without showing more skin than anyone else. She dressed like a sex kitten wearing black and cheetah vintage lingerie reminiscent of an old pin-up girl, accented with
converse tennis shoes
?
"Hi, Tracy!" Amy waved as they made their way over and through the crowd. She said hello to the men, who both hugged her. "You didn't mention you were coming," she said to John, who was resplendent in a pair of boxers, a tie around his neck, and proper running shoes. The boxer shorts and necktie were cut out of the same fabric. When they had spoken on the phone the day before, John hadn't mentioned anything.
"I wasn't sure I'd be able to make it, but I did everything I could to come see you in your... I mean, to raise money for this noble charity," he laughed. Amy blushed and crossed her arms in front of her body.
"Oh my god, you look so cute!" Tracy gushed, "And of course you totally have the bod for this." She stepped behind her and said, "Look, William, she has the Fruit of the Loom on her butt!" Turning Amy around by her shoulders, Tracy gave the guys the opportunity to see the emblem that made her outfit officially "underwear." She must have looked embarrassed because William, whose lean and muscular physique was covered by only a pink speedo, offered a view of his butt in return. A white cotton tail decorated his bottom, amusing Amy that he had both the confidence and the body to pull off such an audacious ensemble. She turned toward John.
"And why are you dressed so formal?" She made a point to keep her eyes fixed on John's face instead of his very distracting body.
John took the tie between his fingers and made a surprised expression, "Amy! I have a professional image to maintain, even on a Saturday. What if I see an important client out here today?"
An announcement came over the loudspeaker that the race would start in sixty seconds. "Do you mind if I run with you?" John asked Amy.
"No, that'd be great," Amy agreed with some trepidation. He looked to be in great shape, but she would be attempting an eight-minute pace and would need to concentrate to maintain her speed while dealing with the crowd.
"Cool, we'll meet you back at this bench when the race is over," Tracy said. "You two will have to wait for us since William agreed to run at my snail pace."
The starting pistol fired and Amy took off. She had not expected to run with John -- or see him in his underwear -- and it took her a few minutes to get into the proper mindset for running. The crowd remained so tight for the first four minutes, that they could only walk at a fast pace and Amy knew she'd have to make up the lost time later. John managed to stay at her side the whole time and once the crowd thinned out a bit, he started talking.
He's not even breathing heavy
, she noticed as she gave one-word answers to his questions. He started talking about his trip to London and how he met with a client who wanted to buy an investment property in the city. All the while he said hello to spectators and joked with other racers along the way. She figured he would run out of air about halfway through the race. Then Amy overheard some guys talking about the fruit on her butt, something about "slipping a banana between..." and suddenly John fell silent. She expected John to drop back, but he stayed next to her as the guys passed, then he started talking again.
They were two miles into the race at 16:10 and Amy tried to speed up a little, but had to weave through the crowd and when she emerged, John appeared at her side again, chatting away as if having the time of his life. "Do you want to pick it up, Amy? You seem to have some kick left in you. Don't hold back on my account."
Amy didn't answer. It took all her concentration to look ahead for gaps in the crowd and weave her way through. They could see the finish line in the distance and she gave it her best sprint. To her surprise, John stayed at her side, even when she crossed the finish line in 23:50, completely out of breath.
"Great job!" John put an arm around her and she glared back at him, not quite ready to speak.
She took some water from a volunteer and kept walking while John remained at her side and went on about how much fun that had been, what an eclectic crowd, and how you really couldn't tell who would be fast by judging their body types.
Amy stopped and put her hands on her hips. "How the hell was that so easy for you? I'm supposed to be the runner!" She finally managed to blurt out.
"It wasn't that easy for me, Amy," John laughed. "I had to work hard to keep up with you, but I know this isn't your best distance. You're much better at longer races and you would kick my butt at anything over six miles."
"How do you know that?"
"I Googled you. I know your race times. Do you really think I would show up for an ego-beating if I knew I couldn't keep up?"
Amy glared at him, still breathing heavy although he seemed to have recovered. "You Googled my race times?"
John nodded, and grinned at her expectantly and bit his lip for a second. He wore that boyish grin, the slightly smartass look, with both hands resting on his hips. His bare and gorgeous hairless torso stirred her so much she had to look away. "Are you mad?" John asked hesitantly.
"Mad? I'm flattered. I'm starting to think you like me." Amy grinned back at him with her hands on her hips mirroring his gesture. She knew she looked good in her underwear too. "I'm just digesting the humbling fact that you are faster than me."
"Nah, I'd place really low in my age and sex division, but you won't. No, you're the runner here, Amy. I am just highly motivated to see you in your underwear."
Amy smiled and gave him a silly high-five, followed by a sweaty half-hug. They decided to wait at the finish line for a while and watch the runners come in and were surprised to see Tracy clock in at 34:00 minutes, obviously working hard, while William looked effortless. "Look at the crowd of gay men chasing that tail," John whispered to Amy and they both laughed that William had in fact drawn a crowd. "And he worried about Tracy attracting too much attention in her underwear," John laughed and they went to join their friends.
"Good job!" Amy hugged Tracy, who looked like she could die on the spot.
"That was so hard! I'm not going to be able to walk for days."
"I've got a car," John said. "You won't need to walk this morning."
"Really? Amy asked in surprise. "You drove here?"
"No, Amy, I was driven here," John admitted. He had decided to be authentic, and the truth was he had a driver close by waiting for them.
* * * * *
Amy tried to concentrate on grading the essay in front of her, but she had to restart four times. The events of the morning had her head spinning, from John unexpectedly showing up at the race, to the fact that he easily kept up with her while running. Then there was the matter of the town car. John said he had it reserved for the day since he planned on showing property that afternoon, but he seemed to be well acquainted with the driver, familiar enough to joke around with him in his boyish way. The casual restaurant surprised her too, a homey place called "Jackson Hole" right in Eastside Manhattan, which made no sense. John seemed incredibly warm and genuine at breakfast, and Tracy and William were extremely cute together. Amy felt much more comfortable around them this time and attributed it to the relaxed atmosphere combined with her endorphin-induced runner's high.
The driver brought Amy to her apartment and John stepped out of the car for a hug and to say that he looked forward to doing a photoshoot with "Runner Girl." Then the three drove off to their respective busy days while Amy faced the daunting task of grading essays.
Now, post-race and showered, Amy had forty essays to get through if she was going to go on a hike with John the next day, but she couldn't seem to finish even one of them. She re-started the same paragraph for the third time when her phone buzzed with a text. She smiled seeing a new photo from John, a puddle in the street that reflected puffy clouds on a blue sky and a bird flying by. He managed to capture a nature photo on a crowded Manhattan street. This one came with a text, "Second prettiest thing I've seen today" and Amy leaned back on her bed with a smile fixed on her face.
She decided to take a break on her bed and elevate her legs. Lounging on top of the down comforter, she closed her eyes. Images of underwear-clad runners flashed through her memory, but the one that appeared over and over again was the image of a shirtless John, hands on his hips, biting his lip to suppress a grin.
Plaid boxers and a matching tie
, she grinned to herself and sighed. Then she rolled over and opened her drawer beside the bed to take out her vibrator. Freddy stretched, yawned, and kept his eyes open. "What? Don't judge me," she said to her grey cat. "He has the 'V,' that magnificent V!" She gestured with her hands, picturing the masculine line of defined muscle that descended from John's hips to below the waistband of his boxers. But Freddy didn't judge. He thought what he heard was merely another cat purring, the sound of blessed contentedness.
* * * * *
John pulled up in front of Amy's apartment at 7:00 a.m, as promised, with a cup of coffee waiting for her in the cupholder. He sent a text letting her know he was double-parked, and in seconds she came out the door in shorts and a pullover jacket with a small hydration pack slung over one shoulder.
"You have your own car and a driver?"
John laughed. He expected to have this conversation and already made up his mind to be frank. "I use a driver and a town car when showing property, but I usually drive the Range Rover myself when I want to get out of the city."
"I could have picked a farther destination than Breakneck Ridge," Amy smiled. "I didn't realize we'd be driving. Last time I took the metro."
