Hank seeks refuge at the gym

Hank

Lights streaked by in a blur past Hank’s unseeing eyes. Despite his new body, his old instincts were intact, piloting the bike without conscious input. Hank had no destination in mind, only escape. In fight-or-flight situations, he had always been a fighter. Now, he fled. From his loss to a girl in a battle of wills. From his desire for a man he used to dominate. From those pitying eyes.

Hank found himself pulling up to the university’s student gym. He had effectively been living there ever since he had lost his scholarship and couldn’t pay his rent. It was humiliating, but picking up chicks had become his primary method of finding a bed to sleep in, if only for a night. Had it only been this morning when that was still his routine?

It was not yet dawn, so the building was practically empty. He was glad he didn’t have to have to explain why his student ID had his new face but still bore the name “Hank.” The echoing clank of metal plates and the smell of floor cleaner welcomed him. In the locker room, he pulled out the gym bag where he kept his workout gear; only now it was no longer the gear he had left. He rifled through sports bras, panties, midriff-baring tops, and athletic compression shorts. All things Hailey might have worn.

Even the memory of the name brought a flare of pain from an unhealed wound. He looked in a mirror and was struck again to see her face. He grimaced, not wanting to be pulled back to that time. He wished he didn’t know how natural it had felt to be Hailey, to be part of something beautiful and honest. Something in him longed for the taste of Craig’s lips, his cock. He looked again at his gym back and shook his head.

No way, I can’t wear these. Not anymore.

Instead, Hank scrounged through the lost and found until he decided on an oversized set of sweats. He stripped off Hailey’s beach outfit and checked himself out in the mirror with the gym clothes. Without underwear, his dick cast a prominent shadow.

At least everyone will know I’m still a man.

There were only two other people working out at this hour, a muscular guy at the bench press and a busty girl on a treadmill. He targeted her immediately, settling into a familiar routine. I could spend a night in her bed.

Hank surreptitiously eyed the girl and slowly strolled to the mats. Don’t go straight for the kill, that’s a rookie mistake. Let her check you out first. He started with some stretches, wanting to show off for his target.

As soon as Hank started doing arm circles, he noticed something different. He stared at the figure in the mirror and marveled at the enormous range of motion in her shoulders. It should have felt wrong, but it felt right. How flexible am I? He bent over and easily pressed both palms flat against the ground. He spread his feet and they kept sliding further apart until his butt landed flat on the mat in a full side split. The stretch felt surprisingly good; too good, he realized as he returned hastily to his feet. Don’t get distracted, you fucking pussy. Eyes on the prize, not yourself. He skipped the rest of his stretches and made his way back to the treadmills.

Hank’s eyes were immediately drawn to the woman’s chest. Her prodigious mounds were being valiantly contained within a pastel purple sports bra clearly visible under her white shirt. The girl was sweating profusely, probably getting toward the end of her workout, and her shirt was nearly transparent. Hank also noticed her boobs were intentionally drawing attention away from the yoga pants compressing her belly.

He took in her new, name-brand athletic outfit and her designer water bottle with a ‘THICK THIGHS SAVE LIVES’ sticker. Looks like she’s new to the gym and she has some money. Maybe a nice apartment I can invite myself back to, if I play my cards right. Hank casually started up the treadmill next to her and started jogging at an easy pace.

He was about to turn and start chatting when his hips started swaying, shortening his stride. His torso twisted to balance, throwing his breasts to the side with each step. Hank grabbed at his traitorous tits, pressing them flat against his chest.

“You okay over there?”

“Hey, didn’t see you there. Come here often?” He asked, trying to be nonchalant with his hands still glued to his chest.

“No, just started. ‘New school year, new me’ kinda thing, you know? The freshman fifteen hit hard last year, so I finally decided to do something about it,” she explained. She had slowed her treadmill to a stop and was now dabbing her face and chest with a towel. Hank noticed she had a round, beautiful face which glowed when she gave him a big smile.

That was easy, he thought, surprised. Next, let her know I want her but make her want to work to get my validation. “You’ve got great tits, babe. You’re going to be a bombshell once the weight comes off.”

She beamed. “Thank you so much! I know the girls are going to draw eyes, so I might as well embrace it, you know?. I was stressing about not seeing results on the scale yet, I really needed that pick-me-up. You look amazing too! Your arms are so toned, I’m really jealous. I’m Camila, by the way, but call me Cam.”

Hank was thrown completely off his game. He awkwardly stepped off his own treadmill and faced her. “Cam. I’m … Hank?” The name felt foreign with his new voice.

“Hank?” she asked, confused.

“It’s complicated …” He had no idea how to explain who or what he was. His body apparently had its own idea, because between the vision of Cam’s lovely breasts and his hands on his own, a surge of arousal caused his dick to jump in his pants. A hand reflexively covered his crotch, but it was too late. Cam had seen and now her eyes were wide, the gears turning in her head.

“Why did I think I could do this? I fuck everything up,” Hank muttered to himself. He was turning away when he felt a soft body pressed against his.

Cam wrapped her arms around him in a warm hug. “You’re doing great girl, don’t give up!” She said softly. “Of course you’re still figuring out the right clothes, don’t worry about it.”

Something fractured inside Hank as he stood in stunned silence. He felt his body ease into the embrace. Was he still even a ‘he’? What’s she … what’s going on?

“You don’t have to explain anything. I’m an ally and I’m here for you. If you ever need anyone to talk to, or some cookies, or if you want to go shopping sometime, I’d love to.” Cam let go of her hug and pulled out her phone. Hank let out an unintentional whimper, immediately missing the feel of her body on his. “Here, let me give you my number.”

“I … I don’t have my phone.”

“Oh, well I work at the main library most nights, just ask for Camila.” She looked at her phone and gasped. “Mierda, voy tarde! I have to get ready for class, but I’ll see you later, girlfriend!” With a swish of her curly brown hair, she was gone, leaving only the scent of sweat and coconut body wash.

Hank couldn’t believe a pair of breasts could feel so good pressed against him without sex. He felt something building inside him, a frightening feeling he struggled to keep down.

“I’d remember if I saw you here before. I’m Randy. This your first time?”

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

“Fuck off.” Hank said coldly, not even bothering to turn and look at the man who had snuck up behind him.

“What? A guy can’t be friendly anymore? I can show you how to really make the most of the gym. You don’t want to blow up like that fatty.”

“I know exactly what you’re doing,” Hank said, his skin crawling. He could feel the man’s gaze roaming his body. “Fuck off.”

“You don’t know me,” the guy grumbled as he stormed off. “You’re the one sending mixed signals. If you don’t want the attention, maybe try wearing a bra.”

“I know you,” Hank whispered to himself. “I was you.”