Can I ask where you go to church?
Why does that matter?
Because at my age I know people from the gym, church, Boy
Scouts, or PTA. And, since we're at the gym, I can rule that out, and your way
too hot for the PTA.
Are church women hot?
They certainly are at my church.
Oh really? Have you noticed?
God tells us to appreciate the beauty of the world, I happen to like doing that.
You know this approach is super cheesy, right?
Well, I wasn't the one who got on the floor on my hands and
knees and started doing stretches in front of me.
It was the only open spot on the floor.
That would be true except for the empty aerobics room, the
Pilates studio, the mats by the locker room, or the corner by the deadlift
station.
Those looked busy. I liked the spot I chose.
I like your choices too. I'm Tony.
I'm Candy and I do go to church with my husband every
week.
With your husband? That makes your choice for stretching
even more interesting.
What makes it interesting?
Let's just say you got my
attention in the best way possible and freely admit that you are married, I'm
flattered and confused.
Don't be confused.
So, what next?
You talk to me tomorrow.
Tomorrow is my swim day. Kind of hard to talk underwater.
Can you talk in a jacuzzi?
Quite nicely in fact.
Finish your swim by 7:30 and I'll be there.
I can make that work.
I have to leave now, I have 8:00 work
call, try not to stare at my ass while I walk away
I'm going to stare at
it until the entire gym is uncomfortable.
She turned and walked away without looking back over her
shoulder and I kept my promise. Cheryl the trainer laughed at me as she noticed
my unbroken gaze.
“What would Susan think about her?” Cheryl asked.
“Susan moved out two weeks ago”, I replied, “so I don't care
what she thinks anymore.”
“Shit”, Cheryl said, putting her arm on my shoulder. “That
kind of sucks.”
I looked down at my sympathetic friend and said, ”Only kinda.”
` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` `
`
The house was unusually quiet in the mornings ever since
Susan walked out on me and started shacking up with her, with our, investment
advisor. Luckily, I knew there was a spark between them early on,
so I quietly moved most of my money to a different bank and reallocated my 401K
and my pension away from her control. I let Tony and Susan think they were
getting away with something behind my back but the $100,000 fund he was investing for us was
just play money compared to the rest.
When she finally files for divorce, I can prove they were
conspiring against me for at least six months and his investment strategy of
putting accounts in her name only will blow up in their face. I'm OK
with that. Losing $100,000 while protecting my house is a small price to pay.
It wasn't small change, but I was anticipating the look on her face when they
realized I knew all along that they were banging each other every Tuesday
afternoon when I had to go north to the Head Office.
The funny thing was that if she only asked, I would have
gladly let Tony into our bed. Susan always wanted a three-way with two guys and
Tony was a nice guy and handsome and probably had a nice cock, but instead she
went behind my back and will pay the price for that. It also didn't hurt that I
had a tracker on Susan’s car after her little indiscretion with Randolph.
That barely scratched the surface, all she did was make out
with our youth ministry pastor after the annual summer campfire. He's cute, Susan’s
hot AF, and campfires are very romantic. What they didn't know was that,
because the camp hosts children under 18 all summer, they had security cameras
everywhere, including one mounted in the branches of a pine tree that pointed
at the campfire amphitheater. I won't even have to use that in the divorce but
if it comes up, I'll do it. Randy’s a nice kid and his life doesn't need to be
ruined because some hot cougar came after him at camp
I ended my walk down memory lane as I made myself a large mug of hot chocolate with my protein powder, ate my banana, and got dressed. I would be in the pool for most of my workout, but I still needed to look presentable to do a few sit-ups, and work on my favorite machine before the pool.
Another branch of my gym has just closed down and now all the old folks
from the old place need a new place to swim. I'm glad they're still working out
at their age but maybe they could do it at a different time? No worries,
however, I hopped in the car and drove to the gym barely thinking about who
might be in the jacuzzi afterwards.
It's one thing to flirt a little bit in the gym, it happens
all the time. Men and women in spandex and T-shirts lifting weights and getting
sweaty is a hormonally charged environment and everybody looks good at the gym
and everybody gets a little strange. I consciously try not to interact too much,
at least I did. I assume beautiful women want to be left alone and who am I to
bother them during their workout? With
Susan gone, however, I think a might change my strategy a little bit. Still, no
one wants to be known as that creepy guy at the gym so if this thing with Candy
is a bust, I'll play it slow
I did the math in my head, 45 laps, 45 minutes, and in the
jacuzzi at 7:31. Maybe it's a little passive aggressive but I didn't want to
get out of the pool and wait for her if she wasn't going to show up. Of course,
hanging out in the jacuzzi with my phone is part of my weekly routine. It
wouldn't raise suspicion; I just need time in the pool. The nice thing about a
timed swim is I don't count laps. I look at the clock, I figure when I need to
stop, and I just go. In my head I race against the people in the other lanes, I
try to think of things to write, stories to make up, things to do, but the
sound of my breathing and the splashing to the water makes it very hard to
think, which was a lifesaver after Susan left. Time without thinking was the
best thing of all.
I count the first few laps and then let it go,
12 strokes touch the wall turn around 12 strokes touch the
wall turn around. 216 strokes per quarter mile, 864 for a mile, and today's
goal, 1080. 1080 breaths, 88 turns, one thought in my head. “Will she show up?”
I glanced at the clock on the wall at 7:25 and saw her walk
in. Tall, fit, wrapped in a beautifully modest one-piece blue bathing suit. That
was all I could see as I lost track of where I was and almost ran into the wall.
Luckily, she didn't see me flustered at the end of the lane, trying to turn
around. She was early and I did not want to seem eager, so I finished three
more laps and pushed myself out of the pool in the corner and sat on the
edge. She had her back to me, her back to the pool, but I knew it was her, that
long brown hair what was her trademark and now, pulled back in a ponytail, it
was adorable.
I caught my breath, gathered my things, and walked over. I
set my towel, goggles, and phone on the bench and stepped down into the jacuzzi
and sat opposite of her and smiled.
“Good morning.” I tried to say it without too much of an
exclamation point.
“Good morning to you”, she said in return, “enjoy your swim?”
“Yes”, I said”, indeed I did. 45 minutes, 45 laps, done for
the day”
“Done with what?” She asked.
“Done with my workout.”
She leaned back against the Jacuzzi’s edge and put her arms
wide open lifting her chest slightly above the water. From her body language I
could tell that she had opened her legs.
“Are you really done working out for the day?”
