Chapter 8: Gym girl Sharon.
There's this cute girl at the gym where I work out named Sharon that has been very friendly in a flirtatious manner for months now. She's a tiny 5' 4" brunette with a pixie haircut, cute face and a sense of humor similar to mine. She can't weigh more than ninety pounds, if that. Her boobs are small, almost certainly A-cups, but I like little boobs, so that's not a downside for me.
I think she noticed me from the first time she worked out when I was there and introduced herself on that first day. "Hi, I'm Sharon. What's your name?"
At first, I thought she was running for office or something, but soon discovered she was just being friendly. Over the next week or so, I picked up on her growing flirtatiousness, subtle at first but more pronounced as time wore on.
I observed her wedding ring right out of the gate when we first introduced ourselves, so I didn't chase her, but I still flirted back a bit. Flirting is fun, especially when you're flirting back at someone. I certainly wasn't lusting after a married woman who has the body of a young, pubescent teenager.
Now, this isn't a Gold's Gym kind of place where the hard-core body builders spend hours toiling over their physique - and the body-builder groupie girls participate in Peyton Place drama throwing themselves at the muscle-heads. This place I'm at is actually owned by the village and is tame as far as public participation and users. The average age of members is probably forty-something and 98% of them aren't body builders by a long shot.
It's good to reliably see at least one younger, non-overweight female who is nice enough to look at when I go in there to workout. And while most folks there are casual about fitness, Sharon is very serious about her workouts, maintaining her hardbody, just as I am.
I really do wish there were more attractive ladies there, of course, but there aren't. The upside to fewer people is no wait for the machines. The bad news? It is certainly not a place you go prospecting for a date or to watch attractive people.
Anyway, Sharon is often there in the early evening after I get off work along with usually about a dozen other folks, mostly in their late-thirties to seventies usually working out like lemmings - or like zombies in some cases. Every time I walk in and see their defibrillator there on the wall I think that was the best purchase they made before they opened the place, given how old and feeble some of the clientele is.
Early on, before I knew her well, I would follow her when running, idly doing more stretches than I need until she comes around to where I'm at on the track and then I'll start running. If she's on the elliptical machines first, I'll pick one behind her and watch her ass while I'm doing my workout. It's a good deal more entertaining than television and makes my time spent go much more quickly. I've also noticed that if I'm in the cardio room first, she'll pick a machine behind me.
One day, as we were both cooling off after a run where I was following her, watching her ass to pass the time, we got to talking.
"I noticed that you like to run behind me a lot," Sharon commented, giving me a sideways glance and looking me up and down. "Is that because you forgot to wear deodorant those days or because you like mine?"
I laughed while she held her grin. She shared my sense of humor apparently.
"Honestly, my workouts go more quickly that way."
"And how's that?" I think she knew the answer to that question and was just testing me.
"Time goes faster when you have a pretty girl to look at."
"And I thought you were staring at my ass."
"What's wrong with your ass?" I looked back at her butt. "Is there something on it?" That got her to laugh.
"Thank you. I like yours too."
"I've got something on my ass?"
We both laughed again.
Our friendship continued to grow.
I enjoyed her most when she was lifting live weights. She'll always ask me to spot for her, even though she's only got a couple of five pounders on either side of the bar. Being the gentleman, I'll help her out, admiring her form while she's lying on the bench doing her reps. She wears these tight little running shorts and her mound and cameltoe are both readily visible as she's laying on the weight bench with her knees spread apart. I have to struggle to keep from getting an erection at times while my crotch is right behind her head.
Over time, we talked about our personal lives with one another in addition to current events or culture. She told me that she was married and has a four-year-old daughter at home. Her interest in me seemed to surge when I told her I was single and recently went through an amicable divorce.
Last week, when we were cooling down after running together, I asked her why she's so flirtatious with me.
"I like you and think you're funny," she said, smiling at me.
"Aren't you married, though?"
"We have an open marriage."
"Huh?" I was surprised at her answer, to say the least.
"No, we aren't promiscuous. Every once in a blue moon, my husband will indulge me and I'll do the same for him."
"I see." I was still a little surprised. "Thanks for your candor. I like that."
The very next night, Sharon was running with me. While we were cooling down after two miles, she asks me out to dinner. It wasn't so much that she asked, but how she asked which caught me off guard.
"Joe, I like you and want to take you out to dinner. Which night next week would be good for you?" she asked.
I was a little stunned. She must be in sales with a close like that!
I looked at her again while formulating a response. "As long as your husband knows, I'd be honored and delighted to take you out to dinner, Sharon. How about Monday? It'll have to be a little later than conventional dinner hour though. Maybe 8pm." That would give me over an hour to get home after the gym, shower and get cleaned up.
"Eight on Monday sounds great! And yes, he knows," she said with a smile. Then she gave me hug and a peck on the cheek.
"Hell," I thought, "we haven't even gone out yet and I've already gotten a kiss. How cool is that?"
I gave her another of my business cards after we had showered and wrote my home address on the back of this one, along with my cell in the very unlikely event she lost it the first time I gave it to her. She gave me a card with her name, phone and address on it, along with a big hug and another quick kiss, this time on the lips.
She came over to my house Monday night and we left to catch a steak at one of the nicer steakhouses in town. It was getting kind of late, so I didn't order a monster steak. We both got 8oz. ribeyes with baked potatoes.
Somehow, I'm not surprised neither of us finished our steak or our potato. I suspect Sharon was watching her girlish figure and in my case, I didn't want the heartburn later.
I took her back to my place, where she was parked. I played dumb and gave her a hug and a goodnight kiss after telling her I had a great time. I almost felt like the girl's role after a date in junior high school. Sharon wasn't having any of that though.
"Do you honestly think all you're going to get is a kiss tonight?" she said with a wicked smile and a grope of my package.
"Sounds like there's some luck in my future," I replied, leaning down a bit and getting a handful of her entire butt cheek and a kiss.
She pressed herself against me and pulled herself as close as she could get. "I'll say."
We went inside and I showed her around, starting on the ground floor. She practically wouldn't let go of my hand as we walked. Brian and Rachel were in the hot tub - probably without any swimwear - and they waved at Sharon and I when we poked our heads into the Florida room. I was kind of glad Sharon didn't want to go over to the tub.
Downstairs, she loved the stripper pole. She had me turn on the radio then did a little dance on it while I made her a screwdriver. Given her skill level, I had the impression that she might have been a dancer at some point in her life. She walked up and rode that pole like it was an old bicycle and danced very smoothly and provocatively on it. There was no hesitation or clumsiness that you see from most girls horsing around a pole for the first time.
One thing led to another and we were making out on the couch down there in the basement.
Now, right off, Sharon was a very good kisser and physically, she was about the smallest girl I've ever been with since my earliest dating days in school. Her hips were only about 28" or maybe 30" around at the most, if I had to guess. She probably weighed about 90 pounds, and picking her up while hugging her was almost effortless. This girl was tiny, but I was finding out about her voraciousness when it came to passion.
We continued to make out. I spent plenty of time grabbing her ass and it was nice and firm. Her legs were toned. She liked it when my hand grazed her between her legs. Her boobs were very small but I like little boobs so that wasn't really an issue. She liked my ass and cupped my nutsack and played with my cock through my jeans.
"Is that a club in your pocket or are you glad to see me?" she teased me.
Shortly after the club comment, Sharon had me stand up. She took my belt off and surprised me when she doesn't immediately go for my package, which was more like a tent by now.
Instead, she teased me. She even walked behind me and caressed my chest and abs with her hands, purring softly, before returning to a kneeling position in front of me to finish what she started.
She unfastened my pants as she looked up into my eyes as they fell to the floor with a "plop". Then she lowered my boxers, slowly and deliberately, looking at my "club".
"Ooh! Now there's a pleasant surprise!" she said happily when she first saw my cock spring forth. "Wow. You are really packin', aren't you Joe?"
"Thanks," I said, smiling. "I guess."
