Taken
Wanting to be fit for the summer, I started working out daily around March. My husband would be pleasantly surprised when he came home from deployment. I had started to gain weight last year when I turned twenty-five. I planned to work hard, gain some muscle, while losing fat.
I threw on sneakers and gym shorts, pulling my long strawberry blonde hair into a high ponytail. I trudged through the layers of discarded clothing on the floor, leaving my room. I hopped in my car, driving to the gym, listening to pump-up music on the way.
I arrived at the gym, signed in and hit the locker room. I put my stuff in my locker, checking my appearance in the mirror. Short pale pink shorts, and a gray cropped tank top. I loved looking at myself in the mirror the more I went to the gym. I was shedding weight fast, even just after three weeks of working out daily. My waist was slimmer, my tummy flatter, and my ass shapelier, more rounded.
I felt like running, so I hit the treadmill first. I adjusted my settings, taking off. There was a man lifting in front of me and I got a nice view of his rippling arms and legs. I could see the sexy lines of his back through his thin shirt. A girl off to the left was doing yoga and her ass looked amazing while she bent into downward dog. I wanted an ass like hers. There were pretty people at this gym, which kept me motivated to keep going.
I turned up the settings on the treadmill, running hard, my ass jiggling behind me. I had moderately sized boobs, so they didn't bounce too much, but I still wore a sports bra to hold them in place.
The guy lifting weights made eye contact with me in the wall mirror. I blushed and looked down, acting as if I was messing with my settings. He walked past me, I turned to watch him walk away, when ours eyes met again. He winked at me, blatantly checking out my ass. I blushed deeply, gaping at him, turning away and rolling my eyes.
What a tool.
I kept running to clear my head. I put my headphones in, blasting some music. I finished a couple of miles, then went over to do some stretching on a mat. I finished up, deciding to call it a day. I was tired and would make up for it the next day.
I hopped out of the shower and started my morning routine. Coffee, makeup, hair, clothes, and out the door.
Work went well, the day going by fast. I drove to the gym, changing in the locker room. I threw on a pair of black leggings and a white crop top. I hit the treadmill the same as the day before, running a mile before stretching and lifting a bit. I liked my shoulders and arms toned, so I lifted once a week. I worked on my biceps and traps, my back a bit too.
As I got up to walk to another machine, the same man as the day before looked at me. He watched me walk away and I could feel his eyes on my ass. I noticed his USMC shirt, a Marine tool bag. I couldn't help but notice how attractive and muscular he was. Tall with a buzz cut and clean shave. He looked like my husband, but even more attractive with his baby blues and dark blonde hair.
I walked to the stair-climber machine, setting a twenty-minute timer. I could see him lifting in my peripheral vision and every once in a while, he would look back at me, checking me out. I smiled to myself and rolled my eyes, as I liked the attention but was annoyed at his douche behavior in the same breath. He could at least have snuck a peak without being so obvious and rude about it.
I used a couple of other machines and finished up my workout for the day. I hit the locker room and took a shower. It was late, so it was empty. I took my time. I stepped out, swathed in thick steam. Someone was standing against the sinks; I squinted through the steam.
It was the Marine who had been checking me out.
"What the fuck are you doing in the women's locker room?" I demanded.
He smirked standing up straight. "Was hoping to get a peek at that body naked," he admitted nonchalantly.
"Well too fucking bad, you creep. Get out!" I exclaimed. I held up my ringed finger, pointing to it dramatically.
He chuckled, sauntering out of the locker room, muscled arms swinging at his sides. I could feel my heart rate rise, along with a tingling sensation in my pussy. He had walked into the women's locker room just to see me naked. It was wrong, but somehow thrilling at the same time.
I shook my head, as if to dislodge the disturbing thoughts. I quickly got dressed, under my towel, and headed for my car. At home, I parked on the driveway. Opening the door, keys still in hand, I entered. I felt a hand slide over my mouth and a knee in my back. Keys clattered to the ground. I was guided inside; my arms held behind my back.
I tried to scream but the sound was muffled by the hand over my mouth. I tried to kick, which resulted with another knee in my back. I groaned through the hand, my back arched, chest heaving.
The door slammed, the hand slipping from my mouth. I swung around ready for a fight. My husband had taught me self-defense and I wasn't afraid to use it. I put my hands up in a fighting stance, which elicited a chuckle from my captor. I noticed the chuckle; it was familiar somehow. I squinted in the dark, just making out a muscled man with a buzz cut.
"You!" I screamed. "What are you doing in my house?" I exclaimed.
"Just wanted to check it out," he said sarcastically, laughing.
"Oh, so this is funny to you? Stalking a married woman?" I demanded.
"Your husband fucks other women, so I figured you didn't mind."
