I stared down at the papers on my desk, the bold black ink made it all seem more real than it ever had during the long year that had passed since my husband, Riley, packed up and moved out.
I opened a desk drawer and threw the papers into it. Anger made my stomach clench into knots, I had met Riley in high school and it had been me that had dropped all of my plans for college in order to spend years supporting him through med school. Two years after that, Doctor decorated his name and he had left me for a woman who was barely twenty two. She would not have to work as a temp during the day and wait tables at night just to keep food on the table and him in school like I had. The day we had all shown up in court she had come sailing down the aisle wrapped in an expensive cashmere sweater, a skirt that showed off her long flat thighs and a pair of three hundred dollar boots with heels so high they could have shattered ice, every hair had been in place and her makeup had been impeccable. Seeing her had brought back the hurtful and hateful words that Riley had tossed at me when I had asked him why he was leaving me for another woman, “You’ve just let yourself go Lily. I deserve a woman who knows the importance of looking good.”
My face had gone beet red when he said that. I had never had time to take care of myself; I had been too busy with work and the household chores to worry too much about myself. I looked at my reflection in the long mirror that hung in the hallway. It was the same me I had always seen: long black hair whose curls were usually tucked up into a messy bun or twist, blue eyes under dark brows and lashes, a rounded frame on which my breasts and hips made stubborn and generous curves. I was thirty one; the eighteen year old girl who had said “I do” to Riley had disappeared somewhere but I could have done better at taking care of myself. I knew I had let depression and stress drive me to endless ice cream and chocolates for consolation but the weight gain was not something that could not be fixed.
I looked at the battered old sweat pants that I had practically been living in for the last year and the small lines around my eyes, feeling my self-esteem plummeting once again. It wasn’t fair how young and beautiful the new Mrs. Riley Jackson was. I had no doubt that she never tossed a bland meal on the table while still wearing the pink rayon uniform that always smelled of onions and ground beef or ever went to the market in run down sneakers and a t-shirt with a stain on it because she was trying to make it in between laundry and a double shift.
“I could go to the gym,” I said to my reflection, “I have the time and the money for it. If I lost weight I could buy new clothes and that would make me feel a lot better a lot too.”
I did have the time, and a lot more disposable income than I had had before. Along with the divorce had come alimony and an amount of it far larger than Riley had thought he would be ordered to pay. I could afford to do something nice for myself. I stood there a little while longer, looking in the mirror. I’ll join a gym. Yes, that would be a good start. Then maybe go back to school as well. I grabbed my coat before I could change my mind and headed out the door. I needed: sneakers and a few pairs of workout pants and tops, a haircut and a gym bag. What would I take as a major? Would I be able to fit in with those barely legal coeds? Maybe I could live on campus, or would I even be able to stand that? I had not thought of just myself in so long, but now, there was only myself I needed to think about.
I pulled up at the gym five hours later. I grabbed the small bag I had bought; it was fairly heavy thanks to new sneakers and a snazzy new set of workout clothes as well as a few bottles of water. I had already enrolled for a quarter at the local college and I could feel the strut in my hips as I walked into the gym.
“Hello,” a long and leggy blonde with a pretty face said as I walked in, “How can I help you today?”
“I’m here to join the gym.”
“Good! Let’s get you started!” She came around from behind the counter and propelled me through the gym, pointing out a bewildering array of fierce looking machines and sweating people. She kept up a soothing stream of chatter as she did so and I was relieved to see other people who were less than perfect bodied up on the treadmills and elliptical and in the weight rooms. After the tour she sat me down at a small table near the front counter and gave me a myriad of options to choose from.
The one that struck me was the free personal trainer option. I had no idea of how to work out. Maybe I could have some sexy and very likely sweaty guy yelling orders at me while whipping me into shape. Hm… that wouldn’t be too bad at all. I checked the box beside that option.
“Awesome!” the blonde said as she beckoned to a long and lean woman with red hair, well- toned arms, a flat stomach and thighs that Riley’s new wife would have envied. “This is Janelle; she will be your trainer! Janelle, this is Lily and it’s her first day with us!”
Shit. So much for a hot encounter with a hard bodied young thing. She held out one strong hand and shook mine, a hard fast pump, before letting go. “If you’re ready you can start now.”
“You are going to have such a fabulous workout!” the blonde enthused.
“I’m sure,” I muttered as I followed Janelle’s trim figure through the machinery to a small side room that was filled with large balls, small free weights in bright colors, colorful mats and long stretchy bands.
“Let’s start by warming up,” Janelle said, “I need to get an idea of how much muscle tone you have and how much endurance so I am going to touch you occasionally, mostly to direct you or to help you to perform a movement properly, are you okay with that?”
I muttered something, my mind going back to the comforting daydream of a handsome hunk fondling me in the name of fitness. When her hands touched my rib cage, then slid down my belly while she told me to breathe in and raise my arms over my head a flush of heat rushed through my body. I was shocked by that heat, and ashamed.
It had to be due to me thinking of a man touching me, I’m straight. I would not, could not be, interested in a woman in that way. Her hands were warm and she pushed in on my belly, instructing me to take a deep breath and pull my belly in. My tits rose higher when I did. Would she touch them? I hoped so, even as I hoped she wouldn’t.
The rest of the workout was a blur, my muscles ached and my eyes kept going back to her ass cheeks, neatly outlined by the tight red workout capris she wore. Her ass flexed and moved as she bent and stretched and when she walked behind me I tightened my own ass cheeks instinctively so they would look less wiggly.
“Relax,” Janelle said as her hand rested on the small of my back, in the shallow indentation where the little bundle of nerves lies, “Unclench and move.”
Shivers ran over my body but I did as she said.
She said, “Good,” and removed her hand.
When I got home and I ran a hot tub of water; my legs and arms burned and throbbed from the unaccustomed exercise. I poured half of a bottle of lilac scented bath oil into the steaming water and sank into it gratefully, closing my eyes.
I wonder how Janelle would look naked? My eyes jerked back open but the image persisted. My hand moved to my pussy, rubbing at the swollen bud of my clit, until I couldn’t bear it anymore. I came almost immediately. Afterwards, I lay in the water torn between being embarrassed at my improper fantasy and excited about the next time I’d see Janelle again.
It has to be because I haven’t had sex in so long, I told myself, Riley barely touched me those last two years and I haven’t even dated at all since he left. I need to go out more, to find a man I can talk to and that I am attracted to. Thinking about Janelle is okay, it was just a fantasy, I would never really have sex with her, or any woman.