I've never watched much television. I go to the movies probably less than anyone else I know, maybe twice a year. I wasn't ever interested in anything like the Oscars, or Emmys or Grammy's or whatever. The only things I watch on TV are sports highlights and CNN. I own and operate a small gym in a small town just outside of Chicago that makes me enough money to call myself "successful", but not enough to be rich. So you can imagine my surprise as I was closing up shop one night, saying goodnight to my regulars, and getting ready for a night out with the guys when I saw a gorgeous red 1995 Dodge Viper sitting next to my car. I noticed there was a person inside, probably female, just sitting behind the wheel, watching my door. An old familiar looking lady was the last to go out, and I bolted the door behind her. The figure in the Viper was wearing a big, bright baseball cap and sunglasses. Strange, since it was pretty dark. I glanced again at the Viper. I was pretty sure it was woman, which relieved me a bit.
"So it isn't a burglar." I thought to myself. Granted, the idea of robbing of a gym isn't popular, but shit man, the equipment in my place is expensive and I've heard of it happening. They case a joint, observe security, and then load all they can into a truck during the night. Of course, the idea of a girl casing a joint right outside the front door in a Dodge Viper struck me as absurd and I gave my head a shake for even contemplating it. I was tired and cranky. I could almost taste the beer I was going to drink that night. I was cashing out when I heard a light tapping, like a key on glass, coming from the front door. I looked up.
It was the woman from the Viper, and I walked around the counter to the door. I unbolted it and opened it just enough to stick my face out. I noticed it was starting to rain.
"Yeah?" I grunted. I hate stragglers. I was closed, and that was it. I almost wanted to tell her to fuck off, but I wasn't in that bad of a mood. Yet. The woman was pretty fit, even under the over-sized cotton sweater and track pants I could tell she was fitness-oriented. I'd never seen her before though, so I thought.
"Uh, yeah, can I come in please?" I heard a feminine, slightly familiar voice say.
"I'm closed. I have to leave soon. I have an appointment" I replied. Yeah, an "appointment" at 10:30 at night on a Friday. Her lips pursed in a whiny smile. It was cute, but I wanted to go.
"Oh, please sir, I've not been in the gym for a few days now and I'm going to go crazy. Can I please?" she pouted. She then took off her sunglasses and ugly hat and I almost fell through the door at her.
"Hey! I know you." I said, trying to act natural. "You're Kiana Tom!" I said, trying not to shout. I can't stand people who go giddy over celebrities, and here I was doing that very thing. Not that she isn't worth it. Kiana is the hottest female I'd ever seen. It was like a freshmen in high school being asked to the prom by the captain of the cheerleaders.
"Hi!" she replied, putting out her hand. I smeared my palms on my pants and grabbed her hand. Her touch was firm, yet gentle, just like her killer body. That was the only other thing I watched on TV, was Flex Appeal. The first thing I thought when I saw the show was "What I wouldn't do to see her naked"
"Uh-ahem, please come in!" I exclaimed. Sure, I knew that she'd only shown her full face to make me let her in, but I didn't care.
"I'm in town visiting a family friend, and I haven't worked out in over four days!" she told me. "I need to just do some light cardio, or a fat-burn, just to get it out of my system." Kiana added, as I rebolted the door.
"Well, go to it if you want." I answered. She gave me that great, big, sexy smile and those gorgeous, Asian eyes as she thanked me.
"Oh, thank you very much. I'll be really quick." she yelled as the door to the female change room swung shut. My cock was pressing hard against the inner wall of my jeans. Usually I wear track pants, but changed because I was going out drinking. I thanked God for the coincidence. Nothing like pitching a tent to freak out a hot babe. I adjusted myself and looked into the weight-room. It was empty, and my eyes zeroed in on the woman's locker-room door. A few minutes later, Kiana emerged in her work-out clothes. My jaw nearly fell of my face.
She wore a white tank-top, under which was a regular sports bra. Her cleavage was supple as always, and her ass glowed under a pair of skin-tight short-shorts, the kind she wears on her show. I gave my head another shake, just in case I drooled or passed out. I watched her from the doorway as she sat down on a bench with some 20 lb dumbbells and started to curl her arms to her shoulders. I've never seen a woman make lifting weights so sensual. She looked at me and smiled. My eyes looked to the floor. Didn't want her to think I was ogling her like I was.
"Can you come over here, please?" she asked.
I walked over to the bench where she was and asked her what I could do.
"I just need a spotter. I'm weighting up to 40 lbs." she answered as I put her weights away and gave her the new ones. She repeated the slow curling action she was previously doing, but a little more slowly. She got to six reps, then stalled mid-rep on the way up the seventh. My hand came up to support the underside of her hand and she thanked me.
"So..." I blurted. Small talk was not my strong suit, especially with the hotties. "What brings you to this little backwater, forgotten town?"
"I was in Chicago doing a promotion, and one of my high school friends lives out here now and I thought I'd drop by."
"Really? Who?" I asked, then felt stupid.
"You know I can't tell you that." she retorted.
