Little Mikey
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Ch. 10: Preview #4
🕑 Added 2025-01-13 20:00:10 +0000 UTCThree impossibly-completed workouts later, he found himself gaping up at Jen from his wiped-out position on the floor. “Feels fuckin’ gooood, right?” she hummed, chugging an impressive quantity of water to make up for the many rivulets of sweat beading down ridges and ravines of muscle wherever he looked. “God daaaamn, I live for this shit.” Her fists clenched, causing a few such streams to divert around her further-enlarged biceps. “You know what I--?” She laughed and glanced down. “Nah, maybe you can’t know. Not really. I’m sure it’s different for you.”
She crouched so swiftly, so energetically, scooping him up with one arm and lifting him onto the bench, seated upright. Even after the insane output she’d achieved for the past hour straight – vastly, incredibly more than his own – somehow lifting him still seemed almost effortless for her. She was unholy strong. And resilient.
And incredible.
“That …” she began slowly. “Was…” She made him hang anxiously on the words, longer … then broke into a smile. “Super encouraging, bud.”
A rush of endorphins hit him. He couldn’t help it. “I…It was?”
“Hell yeah! Well, the actual weight amounts were … I mean …” She chortled. “I coulda sneezed harder than that. But Mice don’t need strength. Cardio’s more important, but mostly I was lookin’ at effort level. I swear, you never try harder than when we’re down here together, workin’ in close quarters, bein’ a team. We’ll have to do a lot more o’ that tomorrow; keep you real, real close to me, and—Hey, you alright? You seem loopy.”
Loopy? Her suggestion put him in total overload!
She retracted the hand supporting his back, and he almost toppled. “Whoa there.” The all too welcome support returned. A steady, ever-present bulwark which he wanted to just melt into and--
Aghhh… he had to fight to remember: this wasn’t Lola, or Alice, or Brandi. This was Jen!
“Hey—easy!” her rich voice laughed. Her wet breasts jiggled as she looked at the clock. “Cool-down time,” she prescribed. “You just need to catch your breath, is all.”
He had no chance to protest, or barely even flail, as she scooped him up by the armpits and set him gently on a mat ten feet away, handing him a stretching strap. “Know how to use this?”
In fact it was his band, that he’d been using for years. Like how he’d been weightlifting for decades, yet somehow Jen coaching him on that didn’t seem so strange. She was so proficient now at seemingly everything.
“Yo!” Snap Snap “Yoo-hoo, bub! You with me?”
He coughed; tried not to get lost in her eyes. “Uh, y-yeah. I … know how.”
Her brow wrinkled. “I know how much you like to neglect your stretches.” She crossed her arms. Fuuuuuck, the cleavage! “You better show me.” He did so. “Alright. Count it out.”
Aloud? He felt silly but he complied, his eyes glued to her as she went to the chalkboard.
“Know what these are?” she asked, writing the names of several stretches.
They all sounded familiar. He nodded.
“You sure?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“K. Three sets of thirty per leg, for each of these. Take ya fifteen minutes at least. I’ll be back, and I better see ya still at it, yeah? Contrary to what you may think, stretching’s important and I don’t want ya to skimp.”
She floated past him, making his throat clench. “I won’t … Mighty.”
“Counting?” she reminded, at the stairs.
Shoot. “Twelve … Thirteen …”
She smirked. “Good Mouse.” And glided up.
