Chapter 2: Core Curriculum
The spandex shorts were a darker blue than the summer sky outside, and they clung to her with an intimacy that made his throat dry. The new top, a matching shade, left a sliver of her midriff exposed with every reach and twist. But it was her crotch that held his focus, a mystery he couldn’t solve. There was a distinct, smooth bulge there, different from the soft contour he was used to. It was defined, almost architectural.
“You’re staring, Ethan. Is there a spot on my new shorts?” Karen called over the synth-pop beat, not breaking rhythm from her grapevines.
“No, just… zoning out,” he managed, forcing his eyes away. The memory of yesterday, of the unraveling seam and the glimpse of pink, was a live wire in his brain. He could still hear her panting through the door, see her finger on her lips.
He positioned himself behind her, as always. His own shorts felt impossibly tight. He pictured her in her room, the way her hips had thrust against her own hand, the silent shape of his name on her mouth. The image was a catalyst. His hand drifted to his waistband, his fingers hooking under the elastic. This was it. No more planning.
The video instructor cued the deep lunge sequence.