Sheri lived about five minutes from me. I'd seen her at the primary school our kids attend, she dropped off and picked up her daughter every day, but we hadn't had a chance to talk, only nod, until my daughter wanted Sheri's daughter to come home and play.
After we had discussed it and exchanged details, Sheri's daughter went home with us. Later, when Sheri arrived to pick up her daughter, we sat down and chatted while having a coffee, giving the kids a longer time to play.
"What do you do for a living?" she asked.
"I fix and sell computers."
"You should come over and have a look at mine. Since my husband left, it's been playing up."
I gave her my card and told her I'd be delighted to go over any time. I saw her at school each day thereafter and she always made a point to stop, give me a smile and say hello. She hadn't said anything more about her PC until after about five days.
"What are you doing this morning?"
"Nothing is planned, so far."
"Do you have time to drop by and check out my PC?"
"I'd be delighted."
I arrived about eleven-thirty in the morning and rang the doorbell. She answered, wearing a leotard, and looked as if she'd run a million miles.
"Sorry. I've been working out and lost track of the time."
"That's ok. If it's an inopportune time, I can come back later."
"Not at all. You can look at the PC while I shower and change. Then I'll make you a coffee."
Sheri led me into her study, where her PC was, and showed me what was wrong. It was only the usual lost icons and some wrong settings that happen with home PC's so I worked on it for a while and, as usual, I lost track of the time. The next thing I knew, she was there.
"Are you ready for a coffee?" she asked.
As I had finished with the PC, I followed her into the kitchen.
************
Maybe I should describe Sheri, now. She was about five feet, six inches tall and had short, black hair and deep, brown eyes. I assumed she was Indian and Sheri later told me, although her parents were from India, she was born in Fiji.
She had a great figure! A nice, tight arse, which was accentuated by the little skirt she had changed into, and great breasts but not big, probably a large B-cup. Overall, she was a stunner and had the nicest personality and smile.
************
We sat in the kitchen and chatted for a while then I commented about her workout.
"I didn't think a figure like yours could be kept by only sitting around and eating chocolate."
I turned red when I realised what I'd said but she only laughed.
"It's taken a lot of work. I used to wear a size sixteen dress but now I'm a size eight. After my husband left me for a newer model of a woman, I became quite depressed until, one day, one of my girlfriends suggested I start to use the home gym the pig had left behind. I read about training, hired a personal trainer to get me started and now, here I am."
"Well, it's paid dividends to you. That's what I need to do, too. I have a potbelly and my blood pressure is terrible but either I don't seem to find the time or I'm not motivated enough, though I should be as I'd love to feel better, never mind look better."
"You should find a partner for a very good reason to motivate you to train hard. Come and look at my gym."
Sheri showed me around her gym. It was quite nice, she had most of the equipment a commercial gym would have, and I told her I was impressed. She also had a pool out back and, from the hint of bathers I saw, I figured she'd go swimming after I'd gone.
************
I saw Sheri at school during the next week and, one day, I received a phone call from her.
"Hi, Bill, it's Sheri! How are you?"
"Hi, Sheri! I'm well and you? How's the training going?"
"I'm well but training is what I'm ringing you about. Do you have time to come over for ten minutes and have a chat about it?"
"Sure! How about in half an hour?"
"Ok. See you then."
I wonder what that's all about
, I thought. My dick throbbed from thinking about Sheri.
Mr. Palmer
had been helping me formulate dreams about Sheri, so I was hopeful, but I knew it would be purely professional. Maybe she'd found someone for me to train with and
motivate
me, as she put it.
"Hi, Bill. I'm glad you came. I've been thinking about our chat the other day and I think I've found a solution for your laziness."
We both laughed.
"How would you like to come here and train with me? I've been wanting someone to train with and having someone else here will get me going again, too. I can help you with a program and motivate you. It'll be beneficial for both of us."
The thought of training with her was mind blowing but I wasn't sure I'd be able to concentrate on the training. She had worn a crop top, I was able to see an outline of her nipples, and her legs were amazing in her short, shorts.
Look at her eyes, look at her eyes
, I kept reminding myself. There's nothing worse for a guy than getting caught talking to a girls breasts.
"I don't want to inconvenience you, Sheri. I appreciate the offer but it would put you out too much."
"I won't take no for an answer. Be here tomorrow morning at ten, wearing your training gear, and I'll have a program ready for you. Be ready to get fit!"
I was intrigued and couldn't think of anything else all day. It was enough to know Sheri but working out with her was going to be interesting. If I'd only get to perv at her, it'd be enjoyable! I was ready and on her doorstep at nine fifty-five the next morning, she answered the door with a smile and beckoned me in.
"Come to the gym and we'll talk. I have a workout planned for you and I'll help you, initially, and you can help me."
I had worn my shorts and T-shirt and slipped my shoes and socks off. Sheri had worn a T-shirt and shorts. She slowly took me through the exercises then we both worked out. Her muscles were amazing and she was very supple. After finishing, I had a shower and bid her farewell.
************
After about two weeks of training, we were sitting on the exercise bikes, warming up, when she surprised me.
"You know, before you started working out with me, I usually wore less than I do now."
"Oh? What did you wear?"
"Oh, a sports bra and a G-string. You know, the sort worn over a leotard."
"Yes, I know the type. I'm sorry I've changed your routine."
"It's ok, really, but I was wondering if you'd be upset or embarrassed if I started to dress that way, again? I get really hot when I'm exercising so I prefer to wear less."
Is this gorgeous woman asking for my permission to wear less around me?
Wow, I couldn't believe my luck.