Gritting my teeth, I strode with feigned confidence to the leg curl bench. Â Belly down, heels in place, I began my reps. Â One, two, three, four… happily, my hamstrings werenâ€™t as sore as Iâ€™d expected and I fell into the rhythm of the exercise. Â My mind wandered. Â I felt good.
Her voice next to my ear startled me. â€œI think itâ€™s time to raise the weight, youâ€™re making this look too easy.â€
She was crouched beside the bench, inches from my face, adding weight to the stack. Â She caught me staring at her, narrowed her eyes a millimeter and stood up. Â I closed my eyes and prepared for the next set, more than a little distracted. Â The thoughts I was suddenly having needed to be pushed aside, quickly. Â One, two, three â€¦she smelled good today Â â€¦ four, five, six… she always pushed me until I hurt and then more â€¦seven, eight â€¦ my hams were starting to complain â€¦ nine, ten â€¦ donâ€™t want to show weakness… eleven, twelve.. why was she standing so close to me?
I finished the set and let the stack down a bit harder than I should have. Â I could practically hear her disapproving thoughts. Â Turning my face toward the wall, I worked to steady my breathing. Â I had one more set and at this weight, it was going to be a challenge.
â€œAlright, Jones, letâ€™s get this over with. Â Iâ€™ve got a big ice bag with your name on it.â€
Inhale, exhale, begin. Â One, two â€¦ groan… three, four… pushing myself harder, thigh muscles pulled hard and pressed my groin into the bench. Â Oh god, not this. Â I do not need this right now, canâ€™t be distracted by that right now.. five, six .. again, my body mixed pleasure and pain, the pressure against my mound a counterpoint against the stress my legs were starting to feel.
Seven, eight â€¦ her hand was on my tailbone,â€Donâ€™t lift up, remember this is for your legs.â€ Â The warmth and pressure of her palm hit like an electric surge and suddenly sweat wasnâ€™t the only wet my body was producing â€¦ I groaned out loud, unable to stifle it and she gave an amused snort. Â How could she know? Â Or maybe she just thought it was the pain I was groaning about.
Nine, ten, eleven â€¦ on to the end of the set. Â Bathed in sweat and red-faced for other reasons, I gingerly picked myself up to a seated position. Â She stood in front of me, close, really close almost too close, she smelled so good, this isnâ€™t right, I shouldnâ€™t be thinking this way about her.
â€œGood job, Jones.â€ her hands on my shoulders, damn, had she ever touched me this much in the course of a session? Â â€œCome on, letâ€™s get you iced down.â€
â€œThereâ€™s a lot of heat coming off you right now.â€
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