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And so there she was, in a white undershirt, sports bra from when she was literally sixteen, and generic brand workout shorts that rode up her crotch. This was not how she’d pictured things, but hey, she had a new year’s resolution to stick to. The gym was packed; presumably with lazy bums like her who wanted to feel good about themselves for three weeks before packing it in and never coming back. But Iris would be damned if she would be one of them; there was no way she would waste an entire sixty bucks a month. She was going to get her rear in gear, literally, if it killed her. And it just might.
So far she’d been hitting it hard, getting to the fancy black-and-chrome colored sweat mill three to five times a week. And she hates it. She looks awkward and ridiculous trying to work the machines. She complains at every turn. But she has to admit she likes the results so far.
“I hate you, treadmill,” she growled. She jogged for two whole minutes; the longest she could run.
“I hate you, stair step machine.” Her asscheeks burned like the dickens.
“I hate you, free weights,” she murmured as she stood watching herself in the mirror. This particular day she’d decided to try a five am workout, before starting her workday at CCPN. It was the stupidest plan she’d come up with yet.
She was trying straight leg deadlifts, with a weight bar on her shoulders (the bar had no weights, it was just the bar and that wasn’t embarrassing at all, no sir). Straight leg deadlifts supposedly did wonders for the ass, too. and you could never have a too-tight bum.
She tried her best to look like she knew what she was doing, taking an overly deep breath in as she stood up and an overly deep exhale as she bent down.
She was all too aware of all the men who had suddenly materialized; they sucked at being inconspicuous. Having an “audience” made her that much more self-conscious.
“Hey, excuse me…” Iris froze halfway down. In the mirror she could see the speaker. A lovely blonde fitness goddess was actually talking to her. “Do you mind if I offer you some pointers?” the goddess asked. “We can’t have you messing up your back.” Iris’ tongue turned to lead, but she managed a nod.
“The very first thing is that you’ve got your legs spread really wide, and that can do some serious damage. You want them to be closer together, right under your shoulders, like this.”
Iris’ legs were splayed like a giraffe at a watering hole.
“Oh God, do you mean I’ve been doing it wrong this whole time?”
“Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us.”
“Well, I’m the worst of us.” She wanted to find the nearest hole and crawl in, feeling so humiliated in front of this intimidatingly super-fit stranger. “Christ, no wonder they’ve all been staring. Ive been ‘advertising’ so hardcore.” Iris looked around and all the men in the near vicinity startled and tried to cut their eyes away.
The woman laughed, and it was a musical sound, like the strumming of an acoustic guitar. “Well, you’re scorching hot so I think they’d be staring no matter what.” She tilts her head and smiles and Iris feels her blood run just a bit warmer.
“Okay,” The woman positions herself behind Iris, “I want you to bend from here, right here,” fingers gently pinching her hips. Iris leans forward with the weight, bending at the waist, and slowly straightens up. “Nice,” She slides one hand flat onto Iris’ lower back, “and I want you to keep perfectly straight right here.”
Perfectly straight? Maybe not, the way they were carrying on. The hand made her flesh tingle where it contacted her; Iris’ muscles jumped a bit, responding to the thrill of her touch. She wasn’t expecting to feel this shy, or this electrified.
Iris followed her directions and began to slowly bring her torso down.
“I’m Laurel, by the way.” the voice said behind her.
“I’m Iris,” she loudly told the floor, “It’s nice to meet you.”
She glanced into the mirror as she began to straighten up, and saw her attractive new “friend” looking down at her back, one hand on her hip and the other flat on her spine. Iris felt her face getting hot…And when she saw what sort of position they were in, the heat flowed to places other than her face.
Am I turned on right now? But, but, I’m with a woman, she thinks. To say this was new was an understatement.
“I think I got it.” Iris straightened up suddenly and set the weight down, before she made anything else weird. “But I, um, I, uh, appreciate the help.”
“Anytime. I love to see other ladies getting fit, and any way I can help I will. Do you usually come at this time?”
She did now. “Yep, usually. You?”
“Every morning after work.”
“AFTER work?”
“Yeah, I guess you could say I work third shift. Anyhow, I’ll let you get back to your workout. See you around?”
“Yep, can’t wait.” She gave Laurel a thumbs up. A soon as she’s turned, the palm of the offending hand gets slapped over her eyes. Smooth, Iris. Very smooth.
Iris drags her carcass out of bed the next morning, and the next, conveniently running into her athletic hottie. Laurel takes it upon herself to train her.
“We need to start you on a regimen,” Laurel tells her with authority and experience in her voice, “Cardio, weights, and stretching.”
Iris wanted to say, yes ma’am! and salut like they were in the military. But all she manages is to squeak out an “okay”.
Monday, Iris has to jog for FOUR whole minutes before Laurel lets up on her.
Tuesday, she’s doing leg presses until she can hardly stand.
By Wednesday she’s become a pretzel, bending into all sort of yoga positions she’d never thought possible.
“Gotta keep those hamstrings loose,” Laurel told her, as she straightened Iris’ back and made her reach for her toes. Aw hell, Iris thought, as she noticed how…sexual it all was.
Iris finds she was looking forward to seeing her laurel, like a LOT. She realized she’d been imagining doing other things with her. The same things that friends do, but not in the same way, not with the same feel.
“Do I have a crush on her?” she asked out loud one day. She was in her bathroom putting on her new workout gear (she wondered if Laurel would notice?) and trying to decide whether she should tie her hair up in a tight top knot, or do a single braid at the nape of her neck (which might Laurel like better?). She explored the thought and realized the idea of being held by her, of sharing a passionate kiss with her, made her face go hot. In a GOOD way.
This was all so new, so strange. But she felt compelled to be around Laurel.
Iris came the next morning to see a small crowd gathered around a new fixture on the wall. A freaking Salmon ladder?
Some guy was trying it, but he majorly failed after two rungs.
Iris sees Laurel and comes to stand behind her, taking the opportunity to lean in close when she whispers conspiratorily, “is it even legal to have one of these in here? Watch some idiot hurt himself and sue for the entire gym chain.”
“I have no idea if it’s smart, but it’s definitely the coolest idea they’ve had since I’ve been a member.”
Then everyone was standing around, waiting to see who will be the next to embarrass themselves. Laurel steps up.
“Laurel, are you really going to-?” Before the words are all the way out of her mouth, Laurel has jumped up, grabbed the bar and swung it with the grace of a gymnast up onto the next rung.
Iris’ mouth dropped open and hung that way as Laurel swung her way higher, and higher. She makes it to the eighth rung of ten before starting her descent.
When her feet are on the ground again she gets an ovation; no one else has been able to get that high, not even the fittest of the guys.
“I couldn’t make it all the way,” she says, sounding almost apologetic.
“Are you kidding?! That was amazing! See, this is why I love for you to train me.”
“So you thought I did good?” She asks, with a small smile that Iris could have sworn was bashful.
“Uh, yeah, duh! Me and everybody else!”
“I don’t care about their opinions as much,” she says, quietly, studying the ground. Iris didn’t know what to say. Was she imagining the spark that passed between them? She wanted to open her mouth and ask, “are we having a moment?” But that would have been undoubtedly weird.
With more animation and her usual confidence Laurel continues, “One day it’ll be you up there.”
“Yeah, I can’t wait! I’m already starting to see the toning in my arms!” Iris flexed her little bicep, and she was so cute laurel had to chuckle.
“Look how hot you look today!” She looked Iris up and down. “Are those new workout clothes?”
“What, no, these old things?” Iris blusters as her cheeks redden. “Hey, do you wanna maybe, grab something to eat, maybe something healthy if you want, I don’t know, like a wheatgrass smoothie or veggie burger? You seem to be into that type of stuff. My treat, of course, since you’ve done so much to help me.” She drops her eyes and sweeps a lock of hair behind her ear. Why would she want to go out with such a weirdo? She thinks. Wait…was this “going out”?
She looks up and sees Laurel trying, and failing, to suppress a grin.
She reaches over and touches Iris' arm, the bicep she'd helped to mold, with gentle fingertips. “Absolutely. I’d love to.” Iris felt her skin prickle and tingle in the same way it had when Laurel had first touched the small of her back.
She hadn’t the foggiest idea where this was heading, but she was ready to find out.