I want to tell you a story. Put your hand on your cock. Keep it there. See how long you can last.
It was late at the gym. Fluorescents humming, nearly empty. You sat on the bench, towel around your neck, pretending to scroll through your phone, but really, your eyes were locked on her. She was stretching near the squat rack, those little black shorts hugging her arse, no bra under that tank. You could see the bounce of her tits with every breath, nipples tight and obvious through the fabric. You couldn't stop watching.
She knew. Oh, she fucking knew.
She looked right at you, didn't flinch, didn't stop. Just smirked. Like she was offering herself to your eyes.
You waited till she finished, then walked past her slow. Close enough to brush her arm, close enough she could see how thick your cock was in your shorts.
"Nice form," you said. Low, dirty.
She turned to you, face flushed from the workout, chest rising fast. "You've been watching me all night," she said. "You gonna keep jerking off in your head... or actually do something about it?"
I know what you did, baby. Mmm, I know what you did.
You didn't say a word. You just took her wrist and led her somewhere quiet. A dark storeroom. Closed the door behind you.
"Take off your shorts," you told her. "Slow."
You stood there, cock already aching, watching her bend over and peel them down, inch by inch. That tight, dripping pussy on full display for you.
"Fuck," you said. "You're this wet just from me watching you?"
