a session at the gym

"Claire" she replied. Her accent gave me goosebumps as she shook my hand, with her five dainty, pink, ringless fingers.
"You’re French?"
"Oui," she said teasingly.
"Cool. I like French girls."
"And I like Irish guys...."
"Ah.... well I’m not Irish.. I’m English." A fake what a shame look, rolling my eyes.
"Oh.... too bad. But I like muscley guys too," she said, with a mischievous look.

Cheesy, but kind. I started with my sit up routine and felt her watching me. I found the whole situation rather fascinating. I desperately wanted to make a play for her, but didn’t really know how. There were two other people in the room who had arrived there long before us. They’d surely leave soon. I just concentrated on my sit ups for about 20 repetitions. Then I lay back back and looked at the ceiling. Then I felt her beside me.
"You can do more. Go on. Ten more" I laughed, and obliged. She lifted my T-shirt with one finger, to see my stomach muscles.... she looked impressed. I stopped.
"Thats just 5. you haven’t finished."
"I’m saving myself. I’ve got press-ups to do too. And aren’t you here to exercise ?"

Her turn to laugh. She dropped to the floor next to me and we both got into press-up positions. As we started, she watched my biceps and my pecs all the time. Next to her, I could see the fullness of her breasts, the flatness of her stomach. Her skin was brilliantly white and her hair hung down across her face, her backside so tight ! She really was fantastic and we were really having fun together. She knew what I was thinking. I couldn’t hide it, and she was enjoying it.

We flirted like this a short while until the room was empty. In fact the gym was going to close. Time to leave. Until she said, "I work here, I can stay..................Or, errr, We can stay" God ! We....... ? She’d said it ! Whoa !!

Then quite surprisingly she got up and just left the room. She seemed to look around in the corridor and then went into the showers. I was confused. I just sat waiting, not understanding. She came back into sight, throwing me a look and a tilt of the head through the window of the door which meant "Come here !"

I opened the door, to see that she’d taken off all her sweaty clothes and was now wearing nothing but a pink towel. "Its ok. Il n’y a personne." That sexy French again, but this time I didn’t understand.
"What?"
"We’re alone!" She took my hand and dragged me into the showers.

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