You were getting nervous, it was almost 15 minutes past seven. You had agreed to meet up again with Greg from the gym. If things went well, you would not only end up getting thoroughly fucked again, but maybe a boyfriend wasn't out of the question.
If he stood you up however, it would be a big black mark towards his chances with you. Finally to your relief a sexy black GTO with red racing strips roars up, giddy and hopeful you ponder whether you should go out and see who it is. You don't have too, you phone rings and as you answer you are greeted with the same solid tone that drew you him in the first place.
"Hey I'm outside, you ready to go?" A deep male voice spoke through the microphone.
"Yes, I'll be right there." You reply realizing a breath you didn't know you were holding. Rushing outside to meet him, your flip flops clattering down the sidewalk as you races to his car.
Hopping into the passenger's seat you were greeted by that solid unwavering smile. You had never really seen Greg out of the gym, and what you saw you liked. Matching his car's interior, he was black and red. A form-fitted red graphic T-shirt, a shield with chains emblazoned on his chest. Fitted black jeans slightly worn, it was an outfit that suited him nicely.
The drive was short, turned out he lived in an apartment complex only five minutes away. Suddenly shy you couldn't find anything to talk about on the drive over so it was Greg who broke the silence, "Sorry I'm late, had to go shopping for dinner." He said indicated to a shopping bag in the backseat.
"It's alright Greg, it gave me enough time to get ready for tonight" eager for the opening you asked. "So, what is for dinner?"
"How does sweet and spicy chicken stir-fry, with a fresh herb salad and chocolate swirl cheesecake sound?" He answered in a steady tone.
"Are you shitting me?" You blurt out. You had been expecting pizza or something, not a bloody three course meal.
Greg laughed and shrugged "What can I say, I love to cook."
"I should start calling you Chef Greg, imagine what the other girls at the gym would think about a guy who is fit AND can cook." You teased.
"I'd rather you didn't, I'd have to beat them off with a spatula. I prefer not to be distracted at the gym." Greg joked backed "Unless it's you of course." he amended quickly.
"Damn straight, I can distract you whenever I want." Smirking to yourself, standing straight up in your seat and provocatively displaying your chest. You had made sure you had picked the best top to showcase your considerable assets.
"Of course, you can distract me anytime you like" he smoothly returned. His eyes accepting the offered view before snapping up and catching your gaze and locking it for a moment with a warm smile. His eyes shifted back to the road and your eyes fix on his lap to see any reaction, but this time those jeans hide any sign of the large cock you knew he was hiding.
Pulling into the parking garage and making the way up to apartment. It was a nice building and as Greg fit his key into the hole you wonder what would be on the other side. Inside was a spacious two bedroom apartment, his furniture was modern and tasteful. Everything was clean and simple apart from the fact that half the living room had been converted into a training room. Crash mats, heavy bags and a large shelf lined with gloves, guards and pads.
"We going to be using those later I presume?" You say coyly, remembering the previous nights naughty experience sparring with the lean fighter in the kitchen.
"Well, you wanted to learn, and I'm more than happy to teach." Moving into the kitchen you see a vast array of cooking utensils. He wasn't kidding, he looked as comfortable in the kitchen, as he did in the gym. Already washing the vegetables, then chopping them finely and placing them into metal preparation bowls. He had the spices lined out in neat order, you almost expected him to start narrating like he was on a cooking show.
