Do You Lift

A trickle of sweat slid down her toned thigh and he feared his dick would bust out of his gym shorts.

Jesus. He was that guy, ogling a girl while she worked out. There was no helping it though. Not when she could bench press twice what he could.

She adjusted the strap of her gloves before doing some hammer curls with a ridiculously heavy weight. The way her biceps strained, the bunch of muscle and glistening skin, was too much.

He wanted to lick the sweat from her skin, press his nose to her musky sports leggings, trace the outline of each muscle, and die happily between the crushing force of her thighs. He had to shake himself out of those thoughts so he could finish his set. It was tough with how tight his shorts had become.

“Excuse me.”

He nearly dropped the weight he was holding. Subtly shuffling to keep his obvious erection hidden, he turned toward the soft smoky voice.

“Yea?” His voice cracked and he felt heat rush up his neck.

She paused, her dark eyes sliding over his body in what he hoped was appreciation. A small smirk appeared on her lips.

“Mind if I lift near you?”

An undignified sound left his mouth. “Um, yes. Plenty of space.”

Not in his shorts, but most definitely beside him. He may not be able to hide his dick print, but it meant he was close enough to watch her move, he’d embarrass himself every time.