"What caught my eye on the bench was the damp outline left behind by his unconfined crotch."

A

Halloween

PT

Session

"The sexual current between us had by now reached its peak."

I sensed his presence the very moment he stopped beside me. I was sitting on the floor, tying my shoelaces and getting ready for my PT session. My blood had begun to simmer even before I looked up, and I told him that I knew he was there without so much as lifting my eyes. But lift my eyes I did. And what I saw were Alex’s bare legs, emerging from beneath a miniskirt.

He was dressed in a Harry Potter wizard costume, complete with a skirt that ended above his knees and a wand in his hand. I had just finished stretching when I looked up at this figure and caught myself lingering over his bare legs and thighs for a moment longer than usual, before refocusing and greeting him, entirely caught off guard. I stood up and followed him, doing all I could to ignore the scant fabric of that miniskirt as it fluttered from side to side with every step he took.

The banter began immediately. We are both Italian, and the joke is always on. What a wonderful setup for all kinds of teasing! He remarked that he really ought to wear miniskirts more often, commenting on how comfortable, fresh and positively ventilated he felt. At the word “ventilated”, I couldn’t help imagining how pleasingly aired and free his crotch must be feeling at that very moment.

I expected him to demonstrate every single exercise for me, especially those that involved bending over or lifting his legs. I joked that there was already a queue of hungry gay men forming behind him. Our session had begun, and soon enough, I found myself genuinely flustered and increasingly unable to concentrate.

He sat on the bench to demonstrate how to pull the handle attachments towards his chest for a back exercise, deliberately keeping his feet off the footplates in front of him — for discretion, he announced. As if the imagery of that alone weren’t enough for me, he stood up and invited me to do the same.

What caught my eye on the bench was the damp outline left behind by his unconfined crotch. A moist imprint, gradually fading, but not before I lowered my bottom onto it and placed my feet on the footplates.

It occurred to me that the ONLY other situation in which the sweat from his crotch could come into contact with my vagina would be if we were actually having sex. There was no other.

The thought was intensely arousing, but I had to pretend I hadn’t noticed a thing. I settled onto the bench and did my best to concentrate on the exercise.

"I told him I’d have to ask his wife whether he’d always been so timid."

Next came the squats. I asked him to demonstrate. Not wanting to make my intentions too obvious, I stood in front of him and watched as he lowered himself, his eyes on mine.

It was an exercise I had done countless times before. I moved around the machine, gripped the handles and lifted one leg at a time, lowering myself until my knee almost touched the floor before pushing myself back up with the opposite foot.

He encouraged me to go faster, but I complained that he hadn’t demonstrated the exercise properly. After all, I hadn’t seen him lift either leg, so how could I possibly be expected to perform the movement correctly??!

This exercise was part of a superset that also involved squatting on a deep squat wedge while holding a dumbbell close to my chest with both hands.

Now, as I struggled to keep my balance on the wedge, Alex was standing very close to a five-barbell rack in the middle of the gym floor. Along came a young man, not even thirty years old, who, as though there were no other way through the vast space surrounding us, simply had to squeeze past at that very spot, practically forcing Alex to step forward and move out of his way. There was barely any room between him and the rack to begin with.

I widened my eyes and pointed. “There! You see? Told you so! That was a bi-curious young man in action.” And I burst into a belly laugh.

Alex teased me, saying he should have given me a heavier dumbbell. The one I was holding was obviously far too light if I could still laugh like that while exercising.

Next, we moved to another corner of the gym for a set of bench-elevated oblique crunches. Naturally, I asked Alex to demonstrate. He obliged, but positioned himself on the opposite side of the bench, facing away from me, so that all I could see were his shoulders.

"And yet, how wonderfully entertaining it was to be so direct and open without ever having to spell things out."

With a little snort of disappointment, I stepped towards the bench and positioned myself for the exercise. I told him I’d have to ask his wife whether he’d always been so timid.

With that, I carried on with my sets, this time alternating them with cable rotations.

This exercise required a great deal of concentration on my part, especially as I was supposed to lower my back knee towards the floor with every rotation. Rather like a split squat, but with a twist.

Alex positioned himself directly in front of me, blocking my view of a rack holding five slam balls — the very spot I had been fixing my gaze on to help maintain my balance.

Needless to say, I began losing it.

“Alex, please move to the side. You’re distracting me. I’d much rather look at those balls…”

I love exercising, and I love the concentration it demands of me, but by this stage Alex was making it virtually impossible. Sure enough, as soon as he moved to where I’d asked him, out of my line of sight, I didn’t lose my balance even once.

The sexual current between us had by now reached its peak. And it was beautiful. Casually and freely, I had made him understand just how much of an effect he had on me. How distracting I found him. And I had joked about it, too.

So there was a light-heartedness to it all, but beneath the playful banter, I was struggling, feeling intensely on edge. And yet, how wonderfully entertaining it was to be so direct and open without ever having to spell things out.

My workout came to an end. At a time when I should have been winding down and feeling relaxed, I felt anything but. Alex had noticed everything and played along. His parting comment was that he’d now have to think about what costume to wear next time.

“Anything with a miniskirt, Alex.”

“Whatever helps you exercise…”

Walking back to the mats for my post-workout stretching, I thought that if I wanted to make anything of myself at this gym, the last thing I needed was to have him teasing me with those bare legs for another entire hour.

And I looked up once more, just in time to watch that little scrap of fabric flutter from side to side as he walked towards the changing rooms.