"Okay, everybody, one more push through, on my count and 7,6,5,4,3,2,1....and you are done. Excellent, that's one of the leg burners I have been saving up- just because it's Friday is no reason to go easy on you, and I don't want to see you all back here flabby and bummed out on Monday..."
It was a demanding, punishing work out that that had scared the hell out of Tracy when she started attending Rochelle's fitness classes six weeks earlier. Now she was thriving upon it.
As the class of 20 women eased into their warm down song, a wretched rework of an 80s Survivor hit, Tracy once again let her covert gaze wander over the form of her instructor upon the stage.
Rochelle, all of 42, almost twice Tracy's age sported a small firm bust, a light sheen of sweat forming in the cleavage nicely deepened by her tight pink instructor's top. Tracy's eyes roved down her body, appreciating again the gently curving hips delivering on the promise of firm, fit long legs beyond.
Warming down Tracy continued to gaze at Rochelle stretching through the warm down. She lay on her back, legs pulled down towards her face, her bottom facing the class. As always, it gave Tracy carte blanch to gaze at those round, firm buttocks encased in their tight fitness pants.
Idly, and certainly not for the first time, Tracy found herself wondering what sort of panties Rochelle wore to her classes.
She preferred to imagine a totally impractical but alluringly lacy G-string burying itself within the forbidden folds of that bottom as its owner leapt, thrust and pulsed to the hard core fitness programme.
Rochelle unfolded herself and eased upright, the rest of the class following, clapping themselves for the hard thrash they had endured at their instructor's behest.
Tracy felt a pleasing buzz from the high wattage smile Rochelle shot her from the instructor's stage. Her gorgeous full lips offset by a dark mole only seemed to focus the smile more at her. Her eyes shone a sparkling green, with only a hint of laughter lines around them -- they were full of confidence and wisdom, while her clear skin bore the sheen of true working sweat.
The past six weeks of gym visits had passed quickly since Tracy's breakup with yet another loser boyfriend.
"Loser magnet" was looking like a good T shirt phrase to adopt, maybe even one she was tempted to get pasted either to her forehead, or tattooed upon her back. Meantime Tracy vowed he would be the last in what had seemed to become a habit.
Warming down, she recalled the day after she had kicked the loser out. A cold Friday evening in July, home from work, feeling fragile, ready for the anesthetic of multiple Merlots - the chance to wallow in a Bridget Jones moment.
She had slipped out of her work dress, and stood in her lace bra and G string before the mirror, assessing what it was (again) that kept the right guys away and the wrong ones around.
She thought all 5'10" of herself as slightly overweight. Yet friends dismissed it as paranoia from someone they envied for her curviness.
Her 36 D breasts nestled like warm, heavy river stones against her chest, crowned with the wide dark brown radius of generous aureole. The thick juicy nipples stood out clearly in the bathroom's harsh light. She tingled with recalled desire at the sensation of them being nibbled upon -- before she dutifully kicked the nibbler out of her bed.
She noticed her stomach's slight protrusion. Ditto for the extra width of her thighs that encased her neatly shaven pussy, they were saved from falling into the "fat" category by the grace of good length. She knew she had sufficient height to carry it, but there was a heaviness about her she wanted gone, as if it represented the recent past she also wanted to exorcise.
She had turned to examine her white round butt, dismissing it as too big. In her self loathing she skipped the fact that there was a beautiful curving parabola to her hips through her narrow waist. That accentuated a bottom many male admirers, and a number of females if they were honest with themselves, had longed to run their hands over.
People's minds detoured, conversations stalled, while eyes watched a gentle sway Tracy captured so well in her designer jeans. Many desired to savour its smooth, alabaster surface, to have their faces buried deep in the fleshy pillows of her butt cheeks, sampling that warm moist delight encased within.
She was not a train wreck by any means, but that night she had vowed to sort herself out.
She would become someone those losers would one day wish they had never treated the way they had -- hell, maybe pull a guy who would hang around.
She picked up on the gym offer going near her work, for a hundred bucks and six weeks it seemed a good deal, and this time she was intent on sticking to the hard regime with the promise of a better body at the end of it.
So six weeks on, no guy, better body, and here she was, oogling her high impact, highly hot fitness instructor - wondering if perhaps all this time she had been on the wrong team.
There had been occasional girl on girl encounter at her high school. Simple warm wet kisses after getting off the bus while walking home, once a gentle hand exploring between her thighs causing her pussy to moisten. But they had been mere experiments, she always looked on them as "practice" for when the boys inevitably wanted the same.
Now she was not so sure, just thinking about being with Rochelle made her pussy moisten lightly. Only last night she had woken up, her fingers pushed deep into her herself, juices flowing freely around the top of her thighs as she imagined her instructor lapping her down there with her small pointed tongue.
She hung around as the others departed, either heading for home or the showers before work. Still tantalised by her self induced pleasure the night before, Tracy decided to wait around a bit longer to say hi to Rochelle. She feigned a few extra stretches until it was only her and Rochelle left in the cavern of the training room.
"You were really working it hard there today, well done. You are a different person to the one who came to my class six weeks ago," complemented Rochelle, flashing
that
smile again. She ran her eyes unashamedly over Tracy's still sweating body, and Tracy was happy to oblige her.
"I have a good teacher, you are a great incentive for staying in shape,
you
are the one who should be getting the compliments!", gushed Tracy. Their conversation paused awkwardly, but they retained eye contact and in a micro second some form of agreement passed between them.
"We better get a shower now everyone's gone," smiled Rochelle, walking ahead of Tracy to the change rooms.
Her tight round butt enticed Tracy to follow as she also admired the thin strip of skin beaded in sweat, marking the gap between her training pants and her tight top.
In the fading steam of the change room Tracy felt the crackle of attraction become even more tangible. Rochelle had kicked off her trainers and peeled off her spandex top, unclipped her sports bra and unashamedly let her breasts free.
The firmness Tracy had admired them for was no illusion. Rochelle looked Tracy in the eye, daring her to take them in. The nipples were like the tips of small fingers -- smooth and rounded at their peaks, they sat erect from the light pink islands of her aureole. Tracy noticed the sprinkling of freckles in Rochelle's cleavage, the light remnants of too much summer sun, and imagined rubbing sun lotion lovingly over those pretty mounds on some warm deserted beach one day.
Her flat stomach was a delightful olive brown, with a single diamond piercing winking alluringly from her navel.
Rochelle peeled off her fitness pants, and alas, no lacy G string but an appealing pair of sports panties, sticky with sweat and clinging to her tight butt cheeks, and curving inwards with the flesh of her inner thighs.
"So, we going to stand here all day and look at me, or are you going to shower with your clothes on?" asked Rochelle teasingly.
Tracy snapped from the trance of longing the body before her had cast upon her. She kicked off her trainers and let Rochelle pull her sticky training shirt over her head. Unbidden Rochelle reached around after dropping the shirt and unclipped Tracy's practical sports bra.
Her gorgeous 36D breasts dictated she put practicality ahead of appeal for gym training when it came to bra choice, but nor had she ever anticipated her instructor being the one to critique it.
But Rochelle's only comment was a small sigh of delight as Tracy's heavy pendulous breasts swung free of the restraint. Her dark nipples were already highly erect with pent up sexual arousal, and she could see that reciprocated in Rochelle's body.
"Why don't you touch them if you like looking so much?" suggested Rochelle.
Hesitatingly in the steamy quiet of the change rooms, Tracy lightly ran the palms of her hands over Rochelle's nipples. Like beautiful pink sea anemone responding to a diver's hand, the nipples hardened and lengthened within their aureole.
Rochelle leaned into Tracy's hands, forcing her to grasp a gentle handful of her breasts, massaging her palms against them and feeling the nipples become ever harder against her own skin.
"Take your pants off, let me see what we have done with you over the past month or so," ordered Rochelle huskily.
Eagerly Tracy peeled off her sweaty pants and panties that had become only stickier since the end of class. She stepped back to allow Rochelle to absorb her handiwork. Fortunately she had not lost weight from her magnificent breasts -- meanwhile her stomach had lost its slight pot. It was a firm smooth plain, even a hint of ab's shimmered along its white surface.
Her hips had retained their gentle curve, while her thighs were tighter, more defined, a theme that continued through her strong calf muscles. Her pussy, so tidy and well shaven was a patch of dark desire in the lusciousness of her white flesh.
