After the class...

The class finally ended, and the instructor called out, “Great job, everyone! Hydrate and stretch—you earned it.” The room erupted into the hum of chatter and the clatter of water bottles. I remained on the bike, my legs still trembling as I felt fabric rub against my pussy. My mind a swirl of electric chaos, I couldn’t decide what was worse: the fact I’d orgasmed in the middle of a spin class or the way the instructor had looked at me afterward.

My heart pounded as I clumsily dismounted the bike, my thighs still quivering as I stood in a puddle of my own sweat and juices. A faint wet spot was barely visible by my crotch, thankfully my black leggings were able to mask it.

I grabbed my water bottle and took a long, **** sip, trying to steady myself as my hand shook slightly. But my thoughts were scrambled as my body still humming with residual tension. I glanced toward the front of the room hoping he had forgotten about me. The instructor was gathering his things, his shirt clinging to his chest with sweat. He glanced up, and our eyes met.

My breath hitched. He didn’t look away. Instead, he smirked—just slightly—before making his way over.

I froze, my fingers nervously tightening around the water bottle. I wanted to bolt, but my feet felt rooted to the spot.

As he walked over, his gym bag hung from his muscular shoulder, I had a thought. My mom needed a connection, an adult connection. She spent so much time focusing on my that she became secluded and isolated. Maybe if she had some sort of companionship, she may be able to move on in life since she would see what she had been missing out on. I truly believed this idea, it didn’t even dawn on me that this was my intrusive thoughts yearning for the next step.

He stopped just a few inches away, his presence overwhelming.

“You’re new here, right?” His voice was low, smooth, and laced with something she couldn’t quite place.

I nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. First time, in this class. I started coming here a few weeks ago.”

I nervously bit my lip, hoping he wouldn’t think too far into my answer. Truthfully, I had no idea if my mom was ever in his spin class before.

His eyes lingered on me, then subtly slid down my body in a way that made my skin tingle. “You’re a natural. Your form was perfect.” He paused, leaning in slightly. “And your energy—it was… intense.”

My cheeks burned as I began to blush. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. Was he teasing me? Did he know?

He tilted his head, studying me. “You seem… distracted. Everything okay?”

I **** a nervous laugh, though it came out shaky, as I nearly choked, “Yeah, just… really into the workout, I guess.”

“Mm.” His lips curved into a knowing smile. “Well, if you ever want to take things up a notch, I do offer private lessons.” His voice dropped, almost to a whisper. “One-on-one. More… personalized attention.”

My stomach twisted—or maybe it fluttered—I couldn’t tell. I just stared at him, my mind racing. Was he… suggesting what I thought he was suggesting?

He reached into his bag and pulled out a small pile of business cards, displaying it towards me.

On it was his name—Justin—and a phone number. I took one hesitantly, my fingers brushing against his. The contact sent a jolt through me, and I quickly pulled my hand away, afraid of what may happen if we touched.

“Think about it,” he said, his tone casual, though his eyes burned with something darker. More intimate. “I think you’d enjoy it. A lot.”