"You can do this, little one. 7 minutes is the goal. You're almost there. I know you're going to blow them away at the try-outs next week!" Mr. Khorasani said when I sat and straddled the bench to face him.
He wrapped a towel around me and I leaned forward to catch my breath.
"I haven't run outside in over a week! [gasp] It's so different on the treadmill," I said.
He handed me a cold bottle of alkaline water but only let me sip a little.
"You're only over your goal by 13 seconds. You can cut that quickly. Maybe it's this trail? I tried to find one that is flat like the track, but I noticed you jumping over things. Breathe, little one. Relax for me," Mr. Khorasani came up behind me and straddled the bench.
He put his hands on my shoulders and rubbed them with a firm grip.
"It's a little bumpy, but not bad. Will they... be cool with me, you think, sir?" I asked.
I was glad for the chance to try out, but also a little scared.
"The Muslim Youth Sports league has boys of good character and there is a mix of Persian, Arab, African, and East Asian. I know many of the families and can help you if any problems occur. We have supported them for years. You will have no problem with safety." Mr. Khorasani worked his fingers into my shoulders until I sighed and felt the tension slide out of me.
I ran the mile one more time, but only improved by 7 seconds. I was ready to go again, but Mr. Khorasani said I'd done enough for the day so we headed home.
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He was sweaty from running with me at the park so we both headed for the showers when we got home.
I cleaned up then put on a tank top and shorts.
Ari was still at work and Mrs. Khorasani was out for the evening at a lady's club event so I went to the Khorasani's room to see if Mr. K wanted me to make him a protein shake.
When I got to his room, his door was ajar. I didn't hear the shower running, so I thought he must be finished.
When I got to the doorway though, I could see he was staring at his phone and rubbing a towel over his damp hair.
I'd never seen him naked. I'd seen him in boxers or a robe or some other state of undress, but never naked. I'd imagined it before. I'd even had it appear in dreams on several nights... but I'd never seen it in person.
I should have immediately turned away, but I couldn't. I didn't.
I looked him up and down while he was distracted with his phone.
He had the chiseled torso of a man who'd never let his body go. He was lighter than Ari, with a proud Persian nose, hard pecs with small brown nipples, and a v-shape any model his age would be proud of.
I froze and stared at his thick manhood hanging between his muscled thighs. I watched it swing back and forth, hypnotized by it.
"What do you need, little one?" he said as though I wasn't standing there staring at his junk.
It snapped me out of my haze. I looked up at his face and felt a deep blush sweep over my cheeks. He looked up from his phone and stared at me without embarrassment.
He had nothing to cower from. He was built like a god.
"I'm... sorry... um what, sir?" I swallowed and froze in position.
"What do you need, little one?" he asked again.
He lowered the towel to swipe across his chest but made no move to cover himself where it counted.
YOU ARE READING
Lukas & The Lion
Teen Fiction17 year old Lukas Smith has his life turned upside down when his dad loses his job in their scrappy desert town. He moves to LA where his dad finds work. Lukas takes a summer job at a local gym to save up for a new phone. That's where he meets a mu...
