Early to bed, early to rise

Monday evening after your first day of work, and you’re starting to understand the stress of a teacher. You’ll have to learn to handle that stress. Samantha used to swear on dancing and long hikes. You never indulged, but exercise is a good idea. They say exercise helps with stress. So, using a gym might help. Blair offered to show you the school’s gym first thing in the morning. You decide to take her up on it.

Tuesday first thing means you need to go to bed early.

You’re up so early there’s no girls on the streets. The school is shut, but Blair is there to greet you. She has the keys to the gym. She’s already in her workout gear, tight shorts that cling to her butt and tight top that only just has more material than a sports bra, revealing a flat stomach. She directs you to a side room off the changing rooms.

“This is where us teachers change, with its own shower, but to reach it you have to go through the girls’ changing rooms, which is why you can’t use it when the main changing rooms are in use. We can’t have men wandering around the girls’ changing room, can we?”

In the small room filled with lockers large enough to house a man, you change into shorts and t-shirt. You don’t have special workout gear, and you had to dig this out. All of it is clothing you bought for your old self. You’re very much aware that it might not be ideal for your new magically created figure.

You’re surprised how much equipment the school has. Your school, in the past, had only the basics, a climbing frame, pommel horse, and numerous mats. St Perpetua’s has those and more; exercise bikes, treadmills, weight machines. A whole host of equipment, most of which you have no idea how to use. Blair, seeing your confusion, offers to show you. But first comes the warmup.

The last time you did warmup was at school. Blair has to show you the best techniques. Which is ****. Watching her stretch, watching her large ass strain the cloth of her shorts as she leans over, watching her firm thighs as she lunges and stretches, seeing the cloth of her top struggle to contain the bulge of her breasts, all of it makes the monster confined in your shorts swell. The shorts aren’t big enough to contain it. You must pay attention to know what to do. You must pay less attention, so you don’t cause an accident. Look her shorts have ridden up and revealed her cameltoe. No, don’t look at it. Don’t think about it. Yet having noticed it, you can’t look away.

“You’re turn.”

And now you have to repeat those exercises. And Blair is quick to put her hands on you. The first time makes you flinch. It’s a soft touch. First on your shoulders. Then on your stomach. Then on your thighs. Every time she touches you, you’re very much aware of it. Her scent doesn’t help, a faint perfume that your body keeps interpreting as arousal. Even when she isn’t touching you, you’re very much aware of her presence.

Those playful blue eyes, that keep looking down at your groin. No, you’re imagining that, surely. Yet every time you look up, she appears to have her eyes directed in that direction. Which is causing the blood to prefer your penis even more.

It’s with relief when she declares you’re ready, it’s time for weights. She asks what you’re used to, and you have no idea. She starts light, or at least what she claims is light. They still feel heavy to you. She makes you sit in the apparatus and lie back, and you’re very much aware that your dick is deforming your shorts. She leans over and the breasts hang tantalising before you, the cloth of her top straining against their weight. And as she fusses she steps over you, and surely she must know that her cameltoe is well defined.

You try to drown yourself in the repetitions. But the pace needed to drive the thoughts away is not the pace she wants you to set. “Slow and steady is better,” she tells you, and she places her soft hands on your shoulders to emphasise that.

The whole thing is designed to drive you mad. It must be. Never has a woman as beautiful and as fit as Blair shown you so much attention. Never have you been so close to a woman like her, wearing as little and as revealing as she has on. And you’re supposed to exercise, actions you’ve only imagined before. And all the time you know that your body is betraying you. And there’s so much more to betray than there used to be.

Weights, then treadmill and you fill your mind with the least sexy ideas you can come up with. But your mind is easily distracted by the sight of Blair. Non-sexy thoughts dissolve rapidly under such inspiration. It’s a miracle you get through the whole routine with only a semi. When Blair dismisses you back to the changing room, with the warning you have quarter of an hour to finish your shower and change before the first girls arrive, you’re as stressed as you were yesterday teaching.

The shower is quick, and cold. Your choice. It’s disturbed by a ghostly gasp while you’re slathering soap over your body. Was there a hint of movement? You don’t know. You weren’t looking that way. And when you emerge there’s no sign of anyone. You quickly dry and dress and head to your classroom.