"Looking good, Ms. Flores."
Dana laughed under her breath, losing her rhythm on the elliptical machine only briefly. She watched his reflection in the mirror, as he stood behind her nodding appreciatively. Most of the evening crowd was either gone or sequestered in their spin and yoga classes. All of the other treadmills and ellipticals around her stood unused, with only a smattering of men on the far side of the open area hammering away at some of the weight machines.
"You've really improved your technique, and it shows in the way you're powering through your entire range. it's
really
showing in your stamina, too."
He couldn't have been more than twenty-two, by her reckoning, and he was beautiful. His hand drifted away from his side, fingers spreading to form an approximation of the back of her thigh as if caressing a shield of air around her.
"Thank you, Stephen," she puffed, grateful for the glow of exertion in her cheeks. If he had any idea how easily he flustered her, or how frequently, she didn't know what she would do with herself. She almost wished she'd worn something a little more flattering; something that didn't flatten her breasts quite so much.
"When am I going to get you for another private session?"
"Soon," she said, tilting her head to let her dark bangs slide forward. "I'm still getting a lot of use out of the first one, and" —she paused to catch her breath— "I want to be able to take full advantage of your advice next time instead of spending six months trying to catch up to it."
"If you wait much longer," he said, smirking, "I'll have to take lessons from you. Your turnaround has been... stunning."
He'd done it again. A delayed compliment, ostensibly about her training but combined with a roaming eye that said he was really talking about something else. Instead of merely pushing her buttons, he was attacking them with an icepick. The slow creep of age and the crushing responsibilities of life had taken a toll on her, and only within the last six months had she felt like she had the time and energy to start doing something about that.
She slowed down, two minutes shy of the time she'd been aiming for, and gave him a sly look over her shoulder.
"Mr. Campbell," she said, "I think you're a little too old to be in one of my classes again." She was conscious of coming to a stop with her legs just so; right leg straight down, with her back arched, and her left leg bent nearly ninety degrees. It had been a long time since she'd taken the time or effort to present quite so overtly. Her teacher brain started up a litany of reasons to dial back, and that was hard to turn off.
He didn't even bother pretending he wasn't staring, though he had the grace to at least keep his mouth closed.
"I do appreciate the compliment, though."
Stephen looked up, eyes narrowing, and he licked his lips. "I hope I'm not being too forward, but I used to have the biggest crush on you."
"Fourth grade was a long time ago," she said, as she stepped off the machine and grabbed her towel to dab at her face. He was just the right height too. It was so unfair. Why was she fighting this? "I'm sure I've seen a few of the girls around here posing whenever you come around. Perhaps your talents would be better spent on them?"
Somewhere deep inside of her, a rebellious streak from her youth surged forth and took hold of her inner monologue.
If all of those
girls
were throwing themselves at him,
it argued,
and they most certainly were, why did she spend so much time noticing? More importantly, why would he ignore them for her?
The question was rhetorical, and the answer obvious, but the fire that drove her to work harder and longer did not allow for her to admit that she had reclaimed her shape by any measure, and nevermind that motherhood had added anything.
"What can I say?" His smile was brilliant, and she thought it was thoroughly unfair how strongly that affected her. "I've always been drawn to the strong, independent types. The ones who don't need my help... and, to be clear, you are doing just fine on your own."
Dana shook her head slowly and crossed her arms. "Mr. Campbell, your tongue was always the thing that got you into trouble."
"
You should see what else it can do,
" he whispered back archly, with just a slight curl to his brow. He had no need to be so quiet, with the PA blasting up-tempo techno at all hours of the day, but her eyes immediately cast about looking for someone else he could be talking to or about. Someone else he could be describing. Someone else he could be staring at so intently.
There wasn't. It was only her. She laughed nervously, and she knew the look he gave her then; he had her, and he knew it. She knew it too.
"W-when wou—"
"Right now," he said smoothly, "if you'd like." He leaned in closer, as if sensing the hunt was nearly done. "There are some rooms in the back. Very private."
He was young. He was hot. His arms alone were a staggering kind of thick that she'd always enjoyed. Perfect for wrapping her up and pinning her down alike. It had been five years since her divorce, and even longer since she and her ex-husband had been intimate. For a while, in the intervening years, Dana had resigned herself to being sexless for the rest of her life, but something had changed in the last few months. Something had reawakened her libido, and she liked it.
Dana gave a small but enthusiastic nod, and suddenly both of them were looking around. No one was even remotely looking in their direction, so he took her hand and led her toward the back. She liked that he took her hand. It was very masculine. Very
take charge.
She squeezed his hand and followed without a second thought.
God,
she thought,
I sat across the table from his parents at teacher conferences!
It wasn't regret or embarrassment that accompanied that thought though; it was thrill.
The room he led her into was not overly large. Wider than it was long, with stacks of step pads, extra mats, exercise balls, and rows of free weights. As elsewhere in the building, mirrors covered the walls, but there were no windows looking in.
Stephen stepped to the side and opened up a box with a key. In the back of her mind, she knew he was getting the stereo going, but all she could see was that the set of his legs was the perfect width for what she had in mind. She was on her knees, with her fingers on the waistband of his shorts, before he knew she was there. The heavy padding on the floor would be welcome.
"Oh shit," he murmured, as the bassline of a song Dana didn't recognize quickly ramped up in volume. "This is unreal."
She gave his cock only the briefest of glances before looking up at him. She wanted eye contact when she touched him for the first time. That always made an impact, and to her mind once you'd seen one cock you'd more or less seen them all. He was already bigger than the smallest she'd ever seen, and beyond that it didn't really matter. A hint of fear, that she'd lost her touch, rippled through her as she opened her mouth and took the tip of his uncut shaft onto her tongue.
His eyes widened as she took him fully into her mouth in one smooth motion. The swelling began immediately, and her fears were quickly laid to rest. Even as he expanded back over her tongue, she kept her gaze steady on him, and she quietly thanked the Lord that she had not developed a strong gag reflex in the intervening years.
"I cannot believe this is happening," he wheezed. "Oh my god,
Ms. Flores.
"
"Please," she said, taking his cock in hand and stroking while she took a breath. "Just Dana. It might work for you to still think of me as your teacher, but the opposi—"
"No no," he said hurriedly. "Oh my god, you are
so
much hotter now."