Hands on top of my head, I try and catch my breath. My vision returns to normal, and I make my way down the steps. I hate stair days. Feeling the sweat roll down my back, I'm glad I took off my shirt after the third set. Somewhat composed, I look back up the flight of stairs. I skip to the next song on my playlist, and am relived it is this song. I close my eyes and let the music surge through my mind. Motivation consumes me. My eyes shoot open. Taking the steps two at a time, I sprint up. Landing on the summit I give out a warrior cry. This battle has been won. I skip to the next song, the beginning of my cool down. I stow my motivation deep down. Every muscle below my waist burns, yet I force myself to keep moving as I calm my breathing.
Movement catches my eye. Its eleven o'clock at night, the park is always empty at this time of night. A woman is standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at me. She is wearing black running shorts, a neon green sports bra, and multi colored running sneakers. Her strawberry-blond hair is up in a ponytail. I notice headphones dangling in her hand. She is breathing heavily as sweat glistens off her chest and arms. Realizing I'm shirtless, my immediate reaction is to cover up. But something deep down inside urges me to stay as is. I feel an awakening in my shorts. I think to myself "thank goodness I'm wearing compression shorts underneath." She's half way up the stairs by the time my mind refocuses. She walks slowly toward me, our gaze never breaking. Standing in front of me, she pulls down on my earbud cords; I forgot they were in. The quiet of the night is only broken by our breathing.
"You really hustled on that last set." Her voice is soft, sweet and intensely sexy. "How many was that? I only saw three."
She was watching me? "I started stairs a few weeks ago. I only did five," I admit.
A smile draws across her lips. "That's not too bad for a beginner. Got one more in you?" Her taunting does not escape me. A switch turns on in my head, as my inner Dom begins to stir. I step closer to her, and pass her. Our arms slide passed each other, the moisture from our sweat lends to no friction.
I begin making my way down the stairs. I hear her footsteps falling behind me. Staring back up the steps, I realize it is barley wide enough for two people. Whoever gets the lead in the beginning will have to maintain. This is going to hurt, I inwardly confess to myself.
"Ready?" I ask with a smile.
She wraps her phone with her headphones and sets them on the ground near the bottom of the stairs. I follow her lead. Standing shoulder to shoulder at the first step, both of us looking up the stairs.
I ask "What does the winner get?"
I look over at her, she smiles never looking back at me. "Winner gets to call the shots...GO!" she shouts and giggles as she begins bounding up the steps.
A split second later I'm urged forward. She's taking two steps at a time. In my attempt to gain on her I take three at a time. She crosses the finish one step ahead of me. We are both attempting to catch our breath, and I'm reminded of her answer 'winner gets to call the shots..."
Once I've gained my composure and see she has too, I finally ask. "Call shots to what?"
She faces me full front, smiling she walks close to me and places her hands on my bare chest. Awaiting her next move in eager anticipation, I'm driven mad with curiosity. She leans toward my ear and whispers, "Pull your shorts down."
She steps back, folds her arms and smiles at me. I call her bluff, hook my thumbs in the waist band of my shorts and push them down. I kick them off, and stand there in black compression shorts and my shoes.
