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Then his eyes narrowed slightly. ‘Is it me or are your tits getting bigger?’ He was being a smart-ass and I had had enough. ‘Marty, get the fuck out of here. Now!’ I said. He waddled out and I changed into exercise tights. I shuddered slightly as the stretchy material hugged my smooth sex, making my nipples harden. Grrrrrrr. I made my way into the quiet gym…such as it was. It was really just a re-allocated storage room that Marty had stocked after enough of us bitched. A few scattered nautilus machines, some old free-weights in the corner and some mats rolled against a far wall. It was enough if you were serious about working out…but just barely. There was one other person there…one of the waitresses who walked around taking orders from spectators. All the employees were allowed to use the gym, though the wrestlers and the strippers who worked in the bar that shared our building were usually the only ones who did. I felt better as I went through my stretching routine. The rote. In the same second that she turned and darted for the door, Tom lunged for the towel -- almost tackling her."No, Mr. Eddie's father, no!" she shouted, ducking down beneath his arm."Mrs. Livingston," he said, trying to get out of her way. But his wet feet slipped on the tiles and he had to lunge out for support. The closest thing to grab, as it happened, was Mrs. Livingston.She began to lose her balance as well and they fell over, almost in slow motion, as their hands grabbed for the walls and doors but couldn't get any secure grips.They ended up on the floor, Tom on top. His hard cock was pressing against Mrs. Livingston's belly. The pressure drew forth an instinctive response, and he rubbed himself against her. She tried to wiggle away, but that only increased the friction on his cock, exciting him even more."Mr. Eddie's father, please," she pleaded, and Tom realized what he'd been doing. He struggled to his feet. As he did, Mrs. Livingston's dress stuck to his damp skin. By the.
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