Invisible

The Basement

Hunter's P.O.V:

She was pure beauty. Every inch of her glowing, from her dainty shoulders to her long, subtle legs, upon entering The Basement, like she was excited. She swung the door open with such courage and surprised me with her strength, 'cause lemme tell you: that was some heavy door.

Before entering was one thing, but after was a complete other. Her long, model-like steps of tenacity continued all the way to the front desk. The guy who stood there, sharply, was no looker and could frighten even some of the most daring of people. But when he caught a glimpse of Andrea walking towards him, his face when from one of angry mobster to one of smiles and the warmth returning to otherwise cold eyes. It seemed almost as though he knew her. Odd I thought.

Yet my suspicions were confirmed when my Andrea- hold up. My Andrea? When Andrea reached the counter and got a warm welcome from the otherwise moody desk clerk, who cheerfully greeted her like an old friend. 

"Andy... It's been so long! Welcome back, my friend." He spoke in a thick Italian-American accent.

So long? Old friend? That sneaky chica... she's been here before. Multiple times, by the sounds of things. And to confirm that theory, Andrea reached for her purse to pull out a shiny gold membership card. Girl is a regular. Hell... she seems to surprise me every minute I get to know her.

Snapping out of my day-dreamy thoughts, Andrea walked over to me, pointed to herself with her lean index finger, to the locker rooms and then to the punch bags. I nodded as I understood what she was telling me: She was going to change and then meet me at the punch bags. I nodded with a smile, in response.

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I don't know what I was expecting when I brought her here but I damn sure did not expect her to be a regular. I was wondering how strong her deceivingly slender physique actually was, day-dreaming in the way I usually do, when I heard the sound of the locker room door. Looking up to see her walking out, a few things happened concurrently: 

1)My jaw fell so wide open I could swear it hit the floor.

2)My eyes raked over her entire body, taking every detail in, so as to never forget that image. I took in the entire appearance of her, before me: the tight, scoopneck t-shirt that clung to her muscular and toned body that had been conveniently thus far hidden from the world. The sturdy shorts that came barely below the top of the thigh, accentuating the thin yet welcoming - 

I coughed at the thoughts of her that had began to overtake my mind.

3)My body began to sweat followed by the familiar feel of my cuticles burning from arousal. Turning my hands into fists, I told myself to get a grip. I thought you cannot expose who you are in front of her or she'll never trust you, nevermind in public!

But the more I tried to push back the forcible pull I felt towards her, the more he would counteract my attempts with magnetisms even stronger. Mine he would chant.

Smiling at me, she walked straight to the punch bags and began her one-two combos with energy and vigour far more that I had ever anticipated. Walking to a nearby punch bag I began my combo, pausing every now and then to admire the small yet mighty figure not too far away from me. Though I had to stop my ogling, at one point.  Not because she saw me but because I had to control the emotions boiling inside me, threatening to overspill. I couldn't help it- as soon as I saw that first bead of sweat trickle from her forehead, down her neck and to her somewhat exposed cleavage, that was it. It were as though my entire body exploded with deep, passionate, erotic desire that warned the possibility of an incident. Mine he said. Mine.