The Workout

I was working out on the elliptical machine in the gym, feeling good and watching the "Calories Burnt" number climb higher and higher. Then, I noticed a rather shapely and attractive woman step off of the machine two rows in front of me. As she turns and faces me, I cannot help but notice that the nipples on her rather large breasts are erect and pressing against her sweat soaked, tight t-shirt. When working out, and at other times as well, I suppose, I sometimes drift off and just stare into space not really cognizant of what I am looking at while lost in thought. I must have been doing this as this young woman started walking towards me on her way to the drinking fountain. She stops abruptly in front of me and says, rather curtly, "Why don't you take a picture?" Snapping out of my temporary coma, I respond, "I'm sorry - what?" "You seem to be staring at my breasts," she rudely insinuates. Now, at times like this, in a confrontational moment, I like to try to immediately get on the attack and, sometimes, in my panic to do so, I can say the stupidest things. In this case, I come back with, "Are your nipples pointing at me!?" "What!?" "Your nipples. They seem to be pointing at me!" "I assure you, I cannot control what my nipples do." "And I," I smugly reply, "Cannot control what my eyes do." "You could look away," she challenges. "And you could wear a thicker sports bra or sweatshirt", I respond. At this she just glares at me with hate in her eyes and steam emitting from her ears. I stare back with my smug grin, alternating my look between her eyes and her breast. So, of course, you know, we made wild passionate love in the equipment room at the back of the gym. And, just before we climaxed in a frenzied, naked and sweaty embrace, ... ... I woke up from my nap on the couch. This is when I got up, changed into my sweatpants and went to the gym for a workout.