My eyeballs were clouded with sweat and I could feel my tongue swinging from side to side, my feet plodding at the pace of the treadmill. I resented myself for neglecting to bring my water-bottle to the gym as I gazed longingly at the litre the girl on machine next to me was intermittently sipping from. As her workout concluded she looked at me with a confused disgust (it took me a second to work out why, but I got there in the end) as I had been watching her juicy lips hold the rim of the bottle and savoured every drop that she licked from them. Wholly jealous. Despite this I continued my dehydrated jog feeling thirsty and pathetic.
When my time was up I made my way through the weights section where it just so happened that at this time of day the lonely bodybuilder types were lifting the weight of their angst and flexing the bulging muscles that appeared as though they were going to break out of the skin that topped them. Ever since my first girlfriend left me after five years of uninterrupted bliss I had been questioning my sexuality. My eyes popped as I tried to scurry through unseen. For the most part I was successful in reaching the water fountain, until after quenching my desire I raised my head and a 220lb tattooed man was stood over me. Seemingly irritated that my skinny ass was making him wait to fill up his water bottle. Shuddering I moved away as swiftly as I could hoping not to provoke anymore ire, as it was late and he had dropped the bar - disappointing himself. Granted, he picked it right back up and held it for what seemed like forever to prove I don't know what to I don't know who. I watched this display through the glass separating the amenities corridor from the main gym. After his successful feat he followed me out for his refreshment, bitter I had witnessed it.
After I had completed my stretches I was ready to go home and get in my bed. Porn videos and Netflix were practically screaming my name as I did my final lunges. As usual I entered the changing room to put my sweats on and collect my bag for the walk home - this evening it was eerily quiet as I was probably the last person out of the room, they were closing soon. I thought I was alone, then just as I pulled my sweatpants up, I felt two big hands on my waist holding me with a tight grip.
Gasping I turned my head to see the thirsty barbell dropper looking at me angrily. Once I had recovered my breath I opened my mouth to question him, but before I could speak he rammed his tongue into my open mouth kissing me in the most aggressive fashion. Tears came to my eyes. This was the first kiss since my girlfriend decided she couldn't be with her high school boyfriend for the rest of her life as apparently I was 'stunting' her 'personal development'. My heart was beating out of my - comparatively - unimpressive chest as he held me in this embrace inspecting my mouth with his tongue. Eventually he pulled away and I blinked utterly stunned by what had just happened, with a tone of complete normalcy he asked "did you drive here?", as I hadn't I shook my head. "Well" he said, "you're coming with me" gesturing to the door, again I attempted to protest but he placed his finger on my lips shushing me. I walked to the door hoping he meant the carpark.
