Jeremy
Jeremy was feeling the burning in his thighs and back as he increased his tempo on the ergometer. He wanted to make the rowing team at the club and the competition for the lightweight eights was so close between him and Danny McLure for the last seat in the boat. He increased the tempo once more and bore down on his concentration on his breathing -- breathing out on the push and in on the glide back. He wanted to hold this tempo for one full minute. He watched the timer on the screen count down the seconds At 40 seconds he was holding the tempo effectively; at 30 seconds he could feel his legs tightening with strain. At 20 seconds his breathing lost sync with his legs as they pushed and glided. He could feel himself losing time as he lost his focus under the strain. At 10 seconds he was letting out loud grunts as he struggled to finish. As the timer hit zero, Jeremy, gasping for breath, let go of the handle and it smashed back against the wheel of the ergometer.
"Fuck", he gasped. He was disappointed he couldn't hang on to his tempo. If he was going to beat out Danny he was going to have to do better.
He loosened the straps that fastened his feet to the footrests of the erg. Pushing himself up to a standing position, his legs felt like putty. He took 4 awkward steps and flopped down in the nearby chair. Placing his elbows on his knee he leaned over still trying to get his breathing under control. As his breathing became less labored he let his eyes wander around the workout room.
The workout room was in Mrs Dylan's garage. She had renovated the large garage years before into her private workout space. Jeremy was amazed at Mrs. Dylan. She was a powerlifter who used this workout room regularly. As part of the garage renovations, a small one bedroom apartment had been added upstairs to the gym. Jeremy rented that apartment and Mrs. Dylan let him use the workout space when she wasn't using it. The erg was part of the equipment in the gym, apparently left years ago by someone she knew. The gym was pretty basic for equipment. In the middle of the garage was a power rack which Jeremy could see being used for squats and bench presses. It was the type of power rack that would allow the user to work with heavy weights without a spotter. To the left of the rack stood an A-frame stand for the plates for the barbell. He tried to calculate how much weight Mrs. Dylan had to work with. After a bit of adding up the plates he figured over 1500 lbs. Impressive, he thought. Not bad for a senior citizen. Three barbells were leaning up against the wall a few feet away from the weight rack. On the right of the power rack was a rack for dumbbells which ran from 10lbs to 50 lbs and a padded workout bench. Between the power rack and the back wall was a three quarter size wrestling ring complete with ring posts and ropes. He wondered if she still used the ring. She was kind of old for that, he thought.
The ergometer was near the front of the garage in the corner, almost as if it were put there to be out of the way. He guessed it wasn't the type of workout Mrs Dylan wanted. She definitely seemed to be the powerlifter type rather than the cardio type like he was.
His thoughts then ran to Mrs Dylan. He first saw her when he came to the house a month ago to ask about the room for rent he had seen at the university student centre. He shook his head slightly as he remembered when he met her for the first time. What a shock. He must have looked like an idiot as he stared at her. She was overwhelming. Maybe just over six feet tall, she was huge. Not sloppy, fat huge, but powerful huge. She filled the damn doorway. Jeremy was five feet ten inches tall and weighed 160 lbs. He had to look up at her. The next thing he took in was her age; she was old, over 60 but he wasn't sure how much over. Once older people got to certain age he had trouble distinguishing exactly how old they were. They all just looked the same to him. Her face was round and full with piercing dark eyes. She wore no make up as far as he could make out. Mrs. Dylan's head seemed to grow out of her shoulders as her neck looked almost non-existent. Her hair was grey and cut really short. Fuck, he thought, she's scary. She wore a loose fitting sweatshirt which didn't give him an idea of how she looked underneath the clothes. He noted she wore a pair of shorts over black leggings. Her legs, he thought, were like tree trunks. On her feet were black training shoes he had seen serious lifters use.
"Yes?", she said in voice that was surprisingly soft. He had half expected to hear some deep, rumbling sound come from her.
"Um, hi, my name is Jeremy Mack. I'm inquiring about the apartment to rent. I saw it advertised at the university centre."
"Oh yes. You're the second one today to ask about it. I'll get the key."
She moved back into the house and returned in just a few seconds.
"Come with me. It's above the garage. You can have a look at it."
She moved past him towards a set of stairs on the side of the garage which led up to what he assumed was the apartment. As she walked past him, her arm brushed against his chest ever so slightly. Jeremy felt a shock move through him. Damn, he thought. Her arm felt like concrete. Nothing soft about her. What is going on here, he wondered. Mrs. Dylan walked with a steady gait. Jeremy caught up to her and walked along beside her feeling dwarfed by her. Out of the corner of his eye he could see from her profile that she was really thick under that tent-like sweatshirt. When they came to the stairs Mrs. Dylan led the way up the stairs. As she climbed the stairs in front of him, Jeremy's eyes almost popped out looking at her huge ass and legs. They were massive but what really stood out for him was that he could see they were muscle. There was no jiggling of a fat butt or soft legs. Just firmness. He felt his cock taking notice. Shit, he thought. Stop this. She's old enough to be my grandmother. This is embarrassing.
At the top of the stairs, Mrs. Dylan inserted the door key and opened the door. She stepped into the apartment and, looking at Jeremy over her shoulder, beckoned for him to come in with a wave of her hand.
"In you go", she said. "Have a good look around."
He walked by her and into the apartment. Jeremy immediately liked what he saw. A small living room furnished with an IKEA type couch, an old but sturdy looking table and a tall lamp at the end of the couch. The living room opened into a small galley kitchen with what looked like fairly new appliances and recently renovated cupboards and countertop. The bedroom, off of the kitchen, was small but comfy looking with a double bed, small dresser and small bedside table. There was more than enough room in the closet for his few clothes. The bathroom was an ensuite one which also looked like it had been renovated in the last few years. Definitely a lot better than some of the other hovels he'd seen for rent.
Mrs. Dylan was still standing over by the front door. Jeremy walked over to her and said, "I like it. If it's OK with you, I can be back within the hour with my first and last months' rent. I can fill out the rental forms then."
Mrs. Dylan nodded. "Sounds good. I'll be waiting for you then. Meet me at the house in an hour."
Mrs. Dylan
Damn it, she muttered to herself. Who could be ringing that goddamn bell? I want to go for my workout.
Opening the door she saw a young man standing there. She registered the surprised look on his face when he first saw her. She also noticed how he quickly covered it up. She got that look a lot when people first saw her but most didn't recover as quickly as this kid. She liked that.
"Yes", she said.
"Um, hi, my name is Jeremy Mack. I'm inquiring about the apartment to rent. I saw it advertised at the university centre."
