Buffy? Here?

Gunnar enjoyed the gentle electricty of flirtation so much it took him a while to realize that he was doing amazingly well with his weights. He decided to keep increasing the weights -- and somehow he was able to keep lifting them, with an ease betraying no fatigue or jangling nerves. His motions were even and fluid as he piled on weight after weight, and in time he recognized that he was not just exploring his new strength but showing off a little for his foxy audience. He noticed how their eyes seemed to sparkle a little more as they noted just how remarkable this male specimen was. He went right on lifting, and occasionally heard a soft occasional "Uhh ... !" or "Da-yum ... !" These devotees of the principle of the body beautiful were quietly getting turned on by his newfound prowess as some human beast of burden.

At last he decided it was enough, and decided to cool down with some cardiovascular. He found the machines there likewise changed around.

"Hello, Mr. Hart!"

Gunnar was pleasantly surprised to see Buffy herself. "Hi!" He looked her over. "I see you don't just SELL leotards!"

She smiled sunnily. "I enjoy seeing active wear in action!"

Gunnar began to jog in place at his machine, which directly faced the machine that Buffy proceeded to jog in. He gulped a little at the great prospect of spending perhaps a full half hour of gazing upon Buffy in action, her low-cut suit permitting a fine full view of her cleavage.

As Gunnar kept pushing, he noticed that two other women took machines to either side of Buffy. They were fit, and pretty -- but most of all, busty. Before Gunnar knew it, he was watching three immense bosoms leaping about in tight plunging necklines -- and all three women seemed positively tickled by his noticing, actually pushing their chests out in blatant teasing. Gunnar went right on jogging in place.