Brian was staying in his son's house, lying low from a money lender, but it hadn't been such an easy option as imagined. Jim, his son, had left on a business trip, touring sub-offices of the bank he worked for, leaving his daughter-in-law to nag him. Knowing Jim would be away for awhile, Brian decided to try and get Jenny to stop the constant backbiting.
Brian got up early, unpacking some groceries, purchased in town the day before. He wondered if his prissy daughter-in-law would remain so stuck up, giving him a hard time, after a special breakfast.
"Speak of the devil," he murmured, under his breath.
"What was that Brian?" Jenny abruptly asked.
"Morning, Jenny, sit down, I'm making breakfast," Brian told her.
"Oh? Well I guess it's about time you helped out around here," Jenny scolded her father-in-law. "I don't eat a cooked breakfast," she added. She sat down at the kitchen table with a critical scowl on her face. Jenny gave Brian a hard look, wondering how she could get rid of him. He was a bit of a pervert as far as she was concerned. As soon as he came to stay, a couple of days ago, the course man had become a nasty nuisance.
He had contrived to walk in on her when she was getting dressed and walked into the bathroom when she was taking a shower. She hadn't told her husband, in case he said it was all in her imagination. She wasn't bothered if it causes a family rift, rather it would suit her if they never saw the obnoxious man again. She would try and get some evidence, before accusing him, and get Jim to throw him out.
"Brian, have you found a place to stay yet?" she asked.
Brian ignored the rude tone of voice. "I'm working on it. Making friends and contacts locally," he smiled.
"At the local bars, no doubt," she snidely commented.
"Try this juice. Freshly squeezed, with Chinese herbs," he said, with a winning smile, knowing it would fail with her. "My special formula," he added.
He watched her sip it reluctantly through pursed lips, with the usual scowl, crinkling her face. The attractive shape of lush rosebud lips were spoilt by the prissy pout she usually wore. She habitually wore an expression of disdain, as though displeased with life, and him especially so.
"Nice!" she said, with a look of surprise. She tipped the glass to her gorgeous lips, taking a gulp, then another, soon emptying the glass.
"You are ready for breakfast now," he firmly told her.
"I don't, err. Yes, OK," she murmured.
He placed a plate of bacon, eggs and hash browns in front of her. "You're hungrier than you thought," he told her.
"Yea, it's surprising," she said, tucking into the food.
"You're only twenty-two, yet always dressing so frumpy, as though you're an old woman. You ought to start dressing younger," he scolded her. He watched her nodding while shoveling in the eggs.
"Are you working out in the gym this morning?" he asked.
"As usual," she said, while crunching a mouthful of bacon.
"You should wear shorts and a cut off top, so you can see the muscles you're working on," he told her. She usually wore a pair of baggy sweats and top, covering her body. He was interested to see how well the suggestion might work. So far the juice was relaxing her, as promised by a friend.
He gave her more instructions then told her firmly to get ready. "It's OK. I'll wash up the old fashioned way. You don't have to remember what I told you, just as long as you do it," he said, as she left the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her hesitate in the doorway, then leave.
'What did he mean?' she wondered. Instead of going along to the gym she diverted into the bedroom, and pulled off the sweats and baggy top. Rummaging around in the closet she found a pair of old shorts, not worn since college days. It was obvious the big white, comfortable panties, would have to be discarded to wear them.
It was a struggle pulling them on, so she was right to leave the panties off. The small exercise top was meant to be worn over a full t-shirt. Her breasts were small, so it didn't matter, she didn't need extra support.
She kicked off the trainers and walked down the corridor to the gym in bare feet. This was the first change made to her parent's home, for she liked to keep in trim. They had been wealthy, conservative people, bringing her up to be a responsible adult. Some would say she had been a spoilt brat, and grew up to become an arrogant snob.
Never having to work she hadn't had the grounding, in real life, that colleagues in a working environment would provide. Her attitudes had remained self-centered, unmodified by friends and colleagues criticisms. She made sure she got what she wanted, and how she wanted it; in restaurants, hotels and stores, giving those that served her a hard time.
Her father-in-law wasn't rich, so she considered him beneath her, and treated him with condescension, though she wouldn't have noticed it.
Brian walked in and stood, leaning against a multi-gym, watching her on the treadmill. It was a surprise his suggestions had worked so well. The tall, thin, dark haired woman was showing off a pair of long, bare legs, for a change. He was staring at her bottom, watching each cheek clearly pumping up and down, with every step, in skin tight shorts. The shorts cupped her cheeks, riding up between them, pulling tight.
Before the influence of the juice wore off he had better suggest she needed some help. She bent forward to switch the machine off with the bottom of her hard cheeks spilling out. Like her attitude her body was fresh and hard.
"I'll give you a hand," he ordered.
Jenny was about to tell him to get out, though the words failed her. "I, I didn't know you were interested in the gym," she stuttered.
He was about to say he preferred hard work to playing at fitness, though this was no time to start another fight. "Sure, believe it or not, I used to be a fitness instructor in the army," he lied. "Here, lay down on the bench and you can lift some weights," he told her firmly.
"I like to exercise alone, it clears my head," she said, feeling it was a lame excuse. She had meant to be more firm than that. Jenny lay back on the bench, wondering why she hadn't just told him to leave. She didn't want this old man ogling her body. It was then she became painfully aware of how undressed she was.
He pulled down a pair of gloved handles, which she automatically wiggled her hands into. He took an ankle in a big meaty paw, to lift a leather strap over it then the other. Adjusting the weights he let her gradually take the strain.
The heavy weights stretched her arms out past her ears. The weights at her feet pulled her down the bench, stretching her body over it. "I don't usually use this much weight," she stammered. In this awkward position, she wanted to shout at him to leave her alone, though how could she get free if he left, she reasoned.
"You want to keep a flat stomach don't you?" he asked. His hand pressed her tummy, stroking the lean, bare, soft flesh, feeling the tight muscles beneath.
"No! Yes," she stammered again. She couldn't understand why she was so nervous, why she was stammering like a fool; she never had before. She didn't like the way he was pawing her, yet somehow it seemed alright.
After all he was helping her, wasn't he? She wasn't used to feeling so vulnerable and helpless. It was affecting her so much she couldn't bring her thoughts together, to form the words, to tell him off. Stretched out before her father-in-law, held tight by the weights, it was all wrong! Yet she couldn't even complain, let alone tell him to let her go.
"Hold the strain with your arms. Lift your legs, straight bends," he firmly told her. He helped lift her legs with hands under both ankles. On his knees, he looked up between her slim thighs, watching the tight shorts pull at her crotch. The top was cupping her breasts, massaging the nipples into erect little bumps, with every move.
Jenny felt the too small shorts, gripping her body, wondering why she had worn them. It had been a long time ago when lewd comments from the guys had put her off wearing them again. Now she was a mature, married woman, they should have been trashed. She felt exposed and embarrassed.
It was a good idea to see her body being worked on in the gym, but not for Brian to see!
"Relax," he told her.
"What are you doing?" she asked, with a more firm tone of voice.
The influence of the juice was wearing off. "Massaging your legs, the muscles are taught," he said, trying to sound casual.
His big calloused, workman like hands, were working their way up to her thighs, and she didn't like it. He vigorously worked on her calves then gripped her knees hard, to work into the ligaments. Underneath her knee his fingers stroked gently. The overall sensation was good and so she relaxed a little. His hands, reaching up over her thighs, brought on a need to bring them together, but she was still held firmly by the weights.
She felt vulnerable and helpless in his strong hands and that feeling was doing something to her. His hands were rough and stimulating sending marvelous sensations through her. It was too good. She needed it to stop!
"OK! That's enough, Brian," Jenny said, surprised at this new tone of voice. It was light and breathy. At least she wasn't stuttering. She was also clearer on what she wanted and didn't want.
Brian could see her eyes widen, less hooded, telling him she was clear of the 'special juice' influencing her. Still, there would be a residual effect and he wondered how long that would last. It would be a relief not to be nagged all day.
"OK! Enough for today," he announced. Freeing her ankles then her hands he helped her up. He noticed she hadn't corrected him to say this was a one off.
He took a hold of her shoulders, from behind, and spoke close to her ear. "Hope you enjoyed it. Take it in what I said earlier, though you can forget I spoke if you like. Take a shower," he said, with a friendly slap to her bottom.
