InsaneJournal

Marcie waited in the women’s change room, rubbing a towel over the back of her neck and over her chest. Gods, she felt good. Energised, invigorated, pumped from a good workout, emotionally bolstered from a week spent in the company of her family and sexting furiously at night/while the rest of the family sat around watching some shitty Hallmark made for TV Thanksgiving movie.

Tragos had been giving her little looks all day, even though she’d been working out alone, earbuds plugged in. She could almost feel him undressing her with his eyes, and it only made her work harder, to make it worthwhile. And as soon as he slipped into the almost empty change room, she looked up at him and smiled, biting her lip suggestively.

“Hey you,” she said softly, the sound carrying in the empty room.