Archer
One more mile. Just one more mile. Then arms for ten minutes, abs for five, shower and breakfast, preparing for the meeting with Accounting tomorrow-
The door to my home gym opens and Serena walks in, form fitting leggings and a crop top gracing her lithe body.
“Good morning,” she says, covering her mouth to contain a yawn.
What is she doing here? I told her I’d be in here until seven. Wait, she didn’t take that as an invitation, did she?
I nod at her, too winded from my pace on the treadmill to comfortably talk.
“Can I use one of your mats?”
I gesture to the corner where I keep them, and she picks the thickest one, rolling it out in the center of the room. And after that, she starts… stretching. Ass in the air, directly toward me, touching her toes. Swaying side to side, loosening her hamstrings and calves, the action like a beacon to my unwitting eyes.
I lower my speed, half afraid I’ll trip over my feet with the added distraction.
“Do you ever do yoga?” she asks, transitioning up into some kind of backbend so I can see down her shirt, my shorts tightening in response.
Oh, it’s yoga she’s doing? I assumed she was trying to torture me.
I clear my throat, no idea how my voice will sound. “No.”
“Just cardio and lifting weights?”
“Yeah.”
I glance down at the readout on the treadmill. Three quarters of a mile to go.
“If you ever wanted to learn, I could teach you.”
So she can put her hands on me, guiding me into the correct position? Those hands are already dangerous enough on my shoulders and neck at night. If I invite her to touch other places… no, not a good idea.
She moves into a plank position, then up into some kind of upside down V. What is that called - a downward dog? It definitely involves her pert ass facing me again.
I’m unable to look away as she continues, her body flowing through the poses, seemingly oblivious to me, and it’s not until my treadmill beeps at me that I realize how much time has passed, so caught up in watching her.
It’s okay to watch, though, right? She wouldn’t have done all this in front of me if she didn’t want me to see. Not that she asked me to check out her ass…
Fuck, this is too confusing.
I step off the treadmill, not bothering to cool down. “I’m taking a shower.”
“Okay. Thanks for letting me join you.”
I swear to God she wiggles as I leave, and I speed down the hallway to my room, not wanting Lori to spot me from the kitchen. Or more specifically, my shorts.
My hard-on bobs in front of me as I strip down in the bathroom, waiting for the shower to heat, and I deliberately avoid it as I get in and wash the sweat off me.
But I can’t get the image of Serena bending over out of my head. Her ass pressed against my front, glancing over her shoulder with sultry eyes, begging me to take her. Gripping her hips, sinking into her wet heat, a low moan issuing from her as I hold her in place, giving her-
No, what the fuck am I thinking? I let go of my cock, not even realizing what I was doing, and shut the water off, bracing a hand against the tile. My chest pumps harshly, air suddenly hard to get in, and I take in a long inhale, exhaling slowly. But no matter what breathing exercises I do, my erection won’t go down. And I can’t go out there like this. Not with two women in the house, one of which I’m lusting after, apparently.
I cautiously grip myself, biting my lip to contain the moan that wants to escape at first contact. Did that kiss the other night addle my brain? Serena’s playing a part, the same as I am. A happy couple in love. But in reality, we know nothing about one another.
That doesn’t seem to matter to my dick, though, excited thinking about her once again, and I give in to the urge, only so I don’t go back out there for breakfast with a raging hard-on and embarrass myself.
She visited my office last night, this time in a nightie that technically covered all the important bits, but designed to leave you wanting more. Or maybe it was just me feeling that way. Something about her touch both lit me up inside and soothed me. How is it possible to have two contradictory reactions?