I stared straight ahead, as I slowly pushed the weight above my head, squeezing at the top, and then slowly bringing down the weight, keeping tension on my muscles. My forward gaze happened to line up with a thin, pony-tailed girl in the thinnest, pink yoga pants that modern science has ever created. With dumb-bells in each hand, she arched her back and bent forward. As the pant material stretched, it became quite obvious that she did not believe that underwear was a necessity under the nearly imaginary pants she chose to wear to the gym that day.
As the material stretched, it became thinner and more transparent over her little bubble butt. Was she aware of this? Did she do this on purpose? She wore headphones and avoided eye contact, giving the impression that she wanted to be left alone, but she obviously wanted to bring attention to herself. And, my god, it was hard not to pay attention! That round little ass, opening and closing just eight feet in front of my face boosted my motivation and testosterone. I easily pushed up two more reps past my regular exhaustion point, the "show-off" effect kicking in, even if she wasn't looking.
If I wore those same exact pants, with my dick and balls outlined down my leg, I would be asked to leave, or possibly arrested. This is a double standard I can live with, but seriously, what is going on in this girl's head? She knows that she is exposed and provocative beyond any functional necessity. This woman cannot be offended if I objectify her marvelous ass for a few moments and fail to acknowledge that she is a strong, intelligent individual.
I'm 6'2" and a lean 215 pounds. I'm attractive enough for 46, and have short brown hair with only a few stray grays. I fill out a t-shirt pretty well, but I don't wear tiny muscle shirts and tank tops, out of respect for other people who just want to work out without seeing some dudes armpits. Besides, if I squeezed into a skin-tight pair of shorts and took off my shirt, I'd only get hit on by guys anyway. Girls prefer more subtlety in men, but they dress without a shred of subtlety.
The girl moved on to the next butt exercise that was more of a slow squat. And guess what? I could see even more of her ass, I mean deep into the normally deep recesses of her crack. Ass out, deep bend, and stretch. Now I can see her tan line, asshole and pussy lips. And up and squeeze that delicious butt, and back down for the full show. Did I even need to pretend not to look? I could see other guys, and women too, stealing glances. All I had to do was look forward and do my own innocent thing to reap the rewards of that slow booty dance. I was hard as a rock at this point, so I wasn't getting up for a while.
Suddenly, the girl dropped the weights, turned and stumbled. It looked like she was having a squat faint. Sometimes during squats, the exertion pumps blood to the brain and raises blood pressure, but when the exertion is stopped, the blood quickly flows away from the brain and you feel light-headed, or you can completely pass out. This girl was stumbling like she was drunk, and headed straight toward me. She collapsed and reached out her hands to catch herself. I grabbed her shoulders to keep her from hitting her head, but one of her hands landed squarely on my dick. And she held on. She started breathing hard to push through it, and her muscles, and her hand, were contracting and shaking.
"Keep breathing, you'll be alright. Just wait for the blood to go back to your brain," I told her.
She looked up at me with big green eyes, her full lips parted, and the cloud lifted. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I'm so embarrassed."
"Hey, that's okay. I've had it happen to me too." I never grabbed a guy's hard cock when I did it, but I'm not complaining. In fact, she still had hold of my full girth in her little hand.
"Are you okay?" she asked. "Did I, uh..." She looked down and realized that she had a stranger's erection in her hand. She snapped her hand back. "Oh my god. Really? I'm so sorry!"
"It's okay. It was an accident. I don't mind. My name is Tim, by the way."
"Thank you Tim, I'm Annie." She smiled and looked into my eyes, but her gaze kept flicking toward my crotch.
"I'm a paramedic. Let me give you my phone number in case you need any help. You should be fine though." Hey, a guy has to take any excuse or opportunity he can.
"A paramedic? I guess I fell into the right lap. Actually, could you walk me to my car? I think I need a break."
"Sure. Let's go."
She grabbed her keys from the locker room and we headed to her car. "That's me on the back row. The white Land Rover."
She grabbed my arm as we walked toward an older Rover with dark tinted windows. "Your arms are so big! They're the same size as my legs," she said with a giggle.
