Bitch Body

Pores

Ever open to guidance, she had an appointment with the gym's trainer. Availability was behind her usual schedule, but this exchange promised help creating a routine and learning about more complicated looking machines in there. Place was eerily dead at this hour. Trainer guy made her wait forever too. Eventually they sat across each other at a table. After introductions he wrote reps next to a list of machine names that would target areas of her body needing most work. 

He asked uncomfortable questions which she answered in the name of fitness. Reciprocating with her own inquiries concerning the unfamiliar equipment and membership perks. Trainer guy offered a tour of the place. Details he chose to elaborate on weren't exactly of interest, but he seemed eager to teach therefore she listened attentively. Had her do some laps on the treadmill, gave breathing advice. So far so good. Felt a little much once he began trying to sell her on purchases like an oil that was supposed to somehow aid fat loss, and stressing the importance of a specific sweat room. She followed him to the uncomfortably solitary area. Most unfamiliar places feel awkward at first, was her excuse for brushing off increasing nerves. 

Beneath her loose fitting tee, a silhouette wasn't perfectly measurable. This pretense he exploited while asking she take her shirt off in order to determine fat percentages. Having experienced this once before during physical education uni courses, her mind accepted it as a gym formality. She nonchalantly scribbled a sheet of paper Trainer guy had brought to note measurements while he fidgeted over the surprisingly thick fat stores on her skinny figure. 

Now it was time to sweat he ran off saying. Seemed troubled upon returning with a pot of that supposed magical grease he insisted on. She hadn't asked for a sample, or for him to rub it on her body, so why the fuck was he doing that right now??? Pulling at her shorts, commenting they were in the way until his face was practically in her panties. She stiffened, the unsolicited fondler finally stopped to look up at her wordless frown, backing off too late in her opinion. Curses died in her mouth as she gestured for him to get the hell out. Why was she being so easygoing with this asshole right now?? Tired from work, blazed as fuck suddenly tripping on how nothing is sacred, to avoid fully processing the fact that this was outright sexual harassment. Greasy Trainer guy fucked off stating loud probably fake fitness tips to cover his embarrassment. Alone behind a locked door at last, she let the creepy sauna machine cook her disturbed body. Why was it always gross randos so confident with their advances? She scolded her perpetual cluelessness.