Legs of Steel: self massage

Danny enjoyed working out, and he generally stayed fit. But the woman in Barkley, 4 Right had a dedication that was awe-inspiring. Although he didn't check in constantly, he learned over time that she consistently did workouts twice a day, and always spent time on both the treadmill and the leg press. And from what he could see about her legs, it was paying off.

Not only did Legs of Steel take the workouts seriously -- she wore outfits that made sure anyone looking took her seriously.

Most of her workout wardrobe consisted of bright neon sports bras, tube tops, or snug halters along with tight booty shorts, all of which left nearly nothing to the imagination. Her legs were bare from the hem of the shorts to the tops of her ankle socks, and her stomach was similarly exposed since none of the tops he'd ever seen went more than an inch below her bust.

While she had a flat stomach and no doubt did a zillion sit-ups a day, it was her legs that captured Danny's attention.

He sat on his couch, enjoying the view in Barkley, 4 Right. Legs of Steel was on the treadmill. By Danny's math, she'd be there for 20 minutes, move to the leg press for 10 minutes, disappear into her apartment, and return a short while later to sit and rest, often with a beverage (protein shake? bottle of water? vodka stinger? who knows).

He studied her legs as they ran on the treadmill. Her pattern was indefatigable. Fast, long strides, and constant. Today, her shorts were bright green and she wore a white sports bra. He didn't devote too much attention to her breasts, which looked to be fairly average in size. It was always tough to know in a sports bra. But those green shorts gave sheen to her round ass, and her legs bounced into the floor of the treadmill with such finesse and such power. She ran on her toes, mostly, landing with each step more like a cat more than a human. Finesse, power, and grace.

Today, something was a little different, though. Mid-run, she pressed some buttons on the treadmill, and it slowed down. Her run turned to a jog, and then to a brisk walk. She remained at that pace for a while, but throughout her walk, he saw her rubbing her hands into her left thigh.

Danny worried that she was injured. Not that he could or would do anything, but for as much as he felt he knew Legs of Steel (right, not enough to even know her real name), he hoped she would be okay.

She finished her walk, and moved to the leg press machine. The seat of the machine was situated such that she would face directly out the window when seated. She took her position, and raised her legs, but she didn't begin the routine. Instead, she reached for her left leg again, and rubbed her thigh.

She began massaging the quad, with her hands, with her knuckles, some with her palms. She was clearly trying to knead out a knot of some kind. She stretched her left leg, and rubbed some more. Something was bothering her. She leaned down over the leg, altering the pressure her hands provided. In that moment, Danny saw more of her face than he remembered seeing before. He knew she had red curly hair, which sometimes she wore down enough to be visible beneath the bottom edge of the blinds. But now, as she bent over her outstretched leg, he could see more of her face. She was young and attractive, though he couldn't see enough detail in her face to know more.

She continued kneading into her leg, moving from more forceful arm gestures to smaller thumb pressure. He thought he saw her body tense with breath and stiffness when she hit a particularly sore part of her leg. Nevertheless, she remained in action of massaging her thigh, perhaps battling through the pain.

After some time, she got up and left Danny's view. Perhaps today there would be no second workout. However, a few minutes later, she returned with a bottle. She sat back on the machine, squeezed something into her hand, and rubbed the substance into her leg. It was probably some kind of oil or menthol cream or something to help her muscles. Danny craned to try to see the bottle, but he didn't recognize anything.

Legs of Steel continued rubbing, squeezed more lotion, rubbed again. After a few minutes of this, her rubbing spread out from the singular sore spot in her mid-thigh to her whole upper leg. In fact, Danny thought it looked like maybe her self-massage was shifting in purpose from addressing a single knot to just providing some surface stimulation for her whole leg.

She began massaging her left thigh with both hands, digging in with what were assuredly strong hands and arms. She stretched both legs out from her seated position, and then continued working on the upper left thigh even more. Her hands moved further up her leg, and were probably reaching the crevice where her thigh meets her hip. However, from the angle, Danny couldn't see. If only she would stand up, he thought.

And like a dream come true, she did. Legs of Steel stood, still facing the window, and still working her fingers into the place where her leg met her hip. Her hands worked the hip socket, fingers pressing in, take some more lotion, return to the hip, rub, repeat.

She had to put her fingers into the bottom of her shorts in order to reach enough of her target points. She did this, though it was a little awkward. Danny thought, she'd have better access if she took the shorts off, of course ... but his powers of mental control were actually not real, and so she didn't follow his fantastical command.

She did, however, shift the focus of her attention away from the hip socket and toward her inner thigh. This felt more intimate now, as the inner thigh was a breath away from far more sensitive territory.

Legs of Steel kept pressing her fingers into her inner thigh as she stood in the window. Suddenly, she stopped. She looked around, and moved toward the chair in the corner of the room. She sat, and was now in the window closest to Danny, her body profile to the street. Danny could see her left leg -- and even more clearly, as she stretched it out in front of her. She went back to work on the inner thigh. He saw the top half of her body relax backward, her long red hair flowing behind her. He could see the edge of the white sports bra under her left arm as she reached forward to her leg.

She paused and stood up. In a brief and unceremonious moment, she slipped the green shorts down around her hips and ass, past her thighs, and to the floor. She wore simple white panties with a fairly high side strapline that curved over her hips. She stepped out of her shorts, and sat down again. She kicked off her shoes without untying them, and reached forward to remove each of her socks.

Her profile now consisted of a cascade of red hair, the side of a white sports bra, the side of white panties, and a pair of hands that was working deeply on her left thigh. Her hands moved around the top, and once again toward the inner side. Danny saw her spread her legs slightly. She rubbed her inner left thigh, and her fingers began to slowly work their way up toward her panties. They arrived at the junction where legs meet labia, and in this case, the edge of the center part of her panties.

Her fingers touched the edge of the panties. It seemed that they lingered there for quite some time. She continued to massage her thigh, but just maybe parts of her hands also began touching the panties as well, pressing into the skin beneath the material.

Danny saw the toes on her left foot stretch and flex as her fingers moved more directly to her pussy. She had abandoned her thigh massage by now, and was toying with her pussy through her underwear. Deftly, she used a finger of her right hand to pull away the material, and her left hand took its massage tactics straight for the flesh of her labia. Her fingering evolved effortlessly from thigh massage to masturbation in the blink of an eye.

Danny didn't blink, of course, and saw the whole thing. She had pulled enough of the panties out of the way, and now her right hand went in to give some pleasure. Based on the way her hand was moving back and forth, it was evident that she had slipped at least one or two fingers into her pussy, and was finger fucking herself. Her left hand gripped her thigh, but the focus now was on the right hand.

She kept trying to adjust the panties, which must have been resisting being pulled aside. In response. Legs of Steel stood up, and peeled off the panties, adding them to the pool of clothes with the green shorts and the ankle socks. She glanced out the window, but seeing nothing of value, sat down again and continued masturbating.

Her left hand rose to her breasts, and she slid her hand under the material of her sports bra. With the back of her hand, she mostly pushed the sports bra up and off her breasts, and now the bra was bunched up under her arm and near her neck, but leaving her breasts clear. Her left hand massaged both breasts, alternatingly, while her right hand remained constant on her pussy.

Her legs began to move almost on their own, pushing the rest of her body to squirm in pleasure at the tireless fingers of her right hand. She touched her breasts, toyed with her nipples, and finger fucked herself steadily, calmly, forcefully.

Her body squirmed more and more in her chair. She was working toward a climax. As she neared it, her back arched, and her body would freeze and tense up. With each charge of tension, she would hold her fingers fast in her vagina, and give her left breast a very strong squeeze. After several of these, even Danny could see that her left breast was turning red from the pressure. Her legs bent at the knees and likely her feet were on the floor, out of sight beneath the window.

She continued gyrating her hips, thrusting her pelvis forward into and onto her own right hand. Finally, the first wave of orgasm rushed through her. He saw her body quake, and as it subsided, she increased her grip on her left breast. This pattern continued -- orgasm, body quake, tension release, breast squeeze. Between orgasmic rushes, she would continued stroking her clit with her fingers. With one rush, he saw her left leg swing back up, fully flexed, her toes pointing forward as her leg stretched to its full length, and the rest of her body cooperated to unify in one beautiful final climax.

She removed her left hand from her breasts, and slid her right hand out of her vagina. She smelled her fingers, licked them briefly, smelled again. With both hands, she pulled her sports bra back down. She reached forward for her panties and shorts, stood up, glanced once more out the window, and then turned and walked back into the depths of her apartment.