Holy Romanian Dead-lifts!

For the past two months, I've been going to intense work out sessions at my local fitness center. Why? Because it wouldn't hurt to stay "in shape" somewhat, and also -the main reason- to release some pent up anger and aggression. Kelvin, the bastard who dumped me after telling me I was "too controlling", had really gotten to me. Really, I was controlling? No, He just never took any initiative for anything! 

Anyway, the workouts have been just what I needed. An hour and a half of pure hard work and sweat every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. My class does everything from kettle bell swings to pull ups to using the rowing machines. But recently, I've found that it's been rather hard to concentrate. There's no question to why I haven't been paying attention. I know exactly why. Exactly's name is Sam.

Standing at a modest height of 5'11 with a body made of pure muscle, Sam was the reason I was spacing out during my sessions. He was the trainer for the advanced class, but had been running the intermediate class for a little while now. He was everything Kelvin wasn't: assertive, easygoing, sexy. He was enveloped in everything he did. He was precise when it came to the execution of each exercise he would demonstrate . He had a way of making the hardest exercise look so easy as he gracefully performed them in front of the class. I, along with every other woman in my class, could never take my eyes off of him.

Today's new exercise that Sam introduced was a thing called Romanian dead-lifts. He set up a bar with 100lbs on each side (I'd seen him go heavier in his personal workouts before my class). "The first thing you're gonna do, class, is walk up to the bar and squat down slightly with a slight curve in your lower back. Then, grasp the bar with a comfortable width between both hands and stand back up. Now, the decent is the most important part...". I watched as he proceeded to stick his ass out and lean forward until his hamstrings couldn't take any more. "Remember on the way up to snap your hips forward, keeping your core tight. We don't want any quavering happening at all, people. AT. ALL.". The class gave out a chuckle. So did I, but when he snapped them hips forward, I for sure was quavering. And it wasn't in my core. 

He repeatedly demonstrated the RDLs for the students who were having trouble. The whole time they were being corrected, I was watching Sam like a hawk. I found myself staring and not doing a damn thing about it. The contours of each muscle used in the dead-lift would show when he demonstrated. They were all so toned and defined. My mind wandered so far into the land of biceps and quads that I totally forgot about what I was doing and my form.

"Hey, Jane. Do you need help? Your form looks a little unbalanced.". Shit. All I could do was nod to make up for my sudden surprise of him standing right in front of me. He was standing so close that I could see the sweat beads around his temples as they began to fall. He smelled like Axe Pure Sport deodorant (my own secret turn-on). I fumbled for words. "Oh. Uh, yeah. I, um, I can't seem to get the beginning part right.", I said, looking down at my feet. "Is the weight too heavy?". "No. I have been lifting 105lbs for awhile now". "Huh. Okay just do what you were doing before and I'll see what the problem is." The problem is you!

I could feel his eyes on me as I approached the bar. The steel felt cold in my hands. As I began to pick up, I felt a big, warm hand on my lower back. "Oh, Jane. What am I going to do with you? You've gotta maintain a small curve in your lower back as you pick up.". His hand was rubbing my lower back area. "Proceed.", he said with the slightest smirk. I stood up and began to descend. He kept his hand on my lower back to make sure my little curve had stayed maintained as he said it should be. And then, just as my hamstrings were about to give out, I started to slowly stand straight up. That's when my whole body began to feel like it was going to give out.

I looked down and saw Sam's hand on my lower pelvic area. His other hand was still on my back."Don't forget the snap, Jane! Thrust the hips forward!". I looked at him straight in the eyes with all the fire I had and all the hunger I felt for him. At first, he was a little taken aback, but then he stared right back at me with everything I gave him. I dropped the bar suddenly due to the now full-body quavering that took over me. Smooth move, Jane. We broke eye contact and I apologized for being such a klutz. I looked down to make sure there wasn't any damage anywhere, and when I looked up, Sam wasn't there. He was walking across the room to assist a guy in his late 30s.

That's when I knew I was screwed. I wanted to feel Sam's touch again. I wanted his big hands all over me. I wanted them entwined in my hair. I wanted all of him. I wanted to call him mine.

Well, there goes my focus. Fuck.