It’s the force of the music as it drives through loud speakers.

It’s my eyes focused and almost not looking at the instructor who urges the class forward.

It’s the sound of exhausted grunts, pleading sighs, and faint "oh God’s" that respond to the request to turn up our tension.

Occasionally I scream — not a scream out of some horror flick but some "wooo hoooo!" sort of call to announce the adrenalin bursting out of the newly elated and overjoyed me.

There are towels beneath my bike soaking up the droplets of sweat pouring off of me – baptizing the floor.

At some point I become aware of the seat beneath me.  I squeeze the saddle with inner thighs while I climb Mount Everest, and the curve of the seat slaps against my buttocks reminding me that rest is going to come.

Sweat seems erotic during the hour.  It carves little paths along the most fit bikers in the class, outlining muscles and curves and dips.  It completely ruins hairdos; leaving pony tails limp and wet and plasters bangs against foreheads wrinkled in concentration and exertion.  I notice my own sweat – soaking through the neck of my T-shirt, slowly moving down the spine of my back to the waist band of my panties. down the thong occupied crack of my ass.  My thighs sweat, my arms sweat, my shins sweat. I’m wet.

When we’re allowed to peddle a bit and sit straight up in our saddles, I shift slightly and lean back so that the saddle doesn’t rub against my inner lips. I guzzle down water – tempted to pour it over me and shake my head back and forth like the guys do in the Just Do It commercials. 

Do you ever just want to fuck someone after you’re done at the gym, I ask  the only one I can.

"Hell, yes!" He replies with an excruciatingly silent "No Shit!". I breathe a sigh of relief. Sometimes I worry that I forcibly knit sex into every fiber of my life which yields some crappy, artificial penthouse letter blanket.

The truth is that during a particular groove filled song I lean a bit forward and rock a little back and forth and though I don’t cum – the feeling of the sudden burst of energy combined with the sweat and grunts and heat and music and throbbing and pushing and driven beats to the ultimate goal makes me feel like I could …

I just might …

I kind of would if it were at all possible to do with out falling from the platform onto the cold hard sweaty tile floor…

cum.

 

I don’t creatively write as much as I’d like…but tonight I felt inspired to put it into words in a way that even the most exercise weary person could get excited about.    Thank you for indulging me.  I’m going to bed but will be logging in tomorrow once again … probably a little bit in the afternoon and then I’ll come back on late at night.  I think I’ll even blog again (watches her readers faint one by one… lol!) and give an update of my week OTHER than the gym.  I know. It’s truly amazing and brings a tear to my eye, too! 

Have a great evening/morning/weekend!