Personal Trainer - Lydia Trains Zach Ch. 01-04

He grinned sheepishly. "Sounds great" he said. "I'm anxious to finally get rid of the stubborn fat and to add some more muscle."

Holding up her phone, Lydia smiled. "Well, these shots right here will be the comparison to show you're making progress. Not that you're in terrible shape, Zach — you've done really good work on your own in the past few months. Most men would love to be in your kind of shape. But if you stick to your workout routine and eating guidelines, you'll start seeing some changes in two to three weeks. I guarantee it."

"I hope so," Zach answered, shrugging.

"You have to know so, Zach," Lydia answered. "That's half the battle."

"Yep. You're the boss."

It was the second time he'd said that in just a few minutes. Lydia wondered if "You're the boss" was one of his catch-phrases.

"So now," Lydia said, placing her phone back into her workout bag, "let's get weight, bodyfat, bone mass, other kinds of measurements. They will be another kind of benchmark against which we'll track your progress."

She pulled her high-tech scale from the roomy workout bag that served as her portable trainer's cache for outside-the-gym training locations. Setting it down in the middle of the floor, she rose and said, "Good scales these days can measure so many things. They make it easy to get a detailed picture of progress in lots of areas. And this one is really sensitive. It can get measurements down to ounces."

She motioned Zach toward the scale then stepped back to her bag, saying over her shoulder. "The scale will recognize you as a new person, and I'll change the name from 'New Person' to 'Zach' later." Reaching down and inside her bag, she didn't find the notebook she carried with her to write down vital stats on each client. Lydia paused for a moment, wondering why it wasn't in her bag.

Zach waited with a quizzical expression as he stood next to the scale.

Realizing where her notebook was, Lydia straightened. "Let me leave for a second, Zach," she said, turning to exit the room. "You can get on the scale and let it run through its measurements," she said, smiling at him as she walked toward the door. "It'll take a minute or so to calibrate to you the first time you're on it, but then it'll show you current stats." She paused at the door before heading down the stairs to the den where she and Zach had talked for several minutes right after she arrived. "I left my notebook down in the den, but go ahead and get on the scale while I'm out of the room. I've already turned it on. You can take a look at your weight, bodyfat, and the other things the scale measures while I'm gone," she called back to him.

The notebook was lying on the coffee table, exactly where she remembered putting it after taking some notes during the conversation she had with Zach right after arriving.

Lydia shook her head at her own forgetfulness. She should have put the notebook back in her bag before she and Zach walked upstairs to the surprisingly large room he had converted into a gym in his townhome. She leafed through the notebook to find the food-tracking insert she would pull out to give to Zach at the end of the workout, then took a few seconds to scan around this part of his townhome to try to intuit a little more information about him.

The space was fairly picked up — a good sign for a single guy — and there weren't any pieces of furniture that looked like holdovers from college days. As she scanned around this part of Zach's townhome, her suspicion was confirmed about what living in this community must cost — Zach's mention of the guard at the gate when they first talked told her his place must be really nice. She guessed maybe . . . what? Monthly rent twice as much as her own? Three times?

A painting hanging on one wall intrigued her. Thinking it might be by a favorite artist, Lydia stepped closer to look for the artist's signature. Confirming her suspicion, she was delighted to find that she and Zach might have similar tastes, at least regarding a certain artist.

Doing all this meant she'd been gone from Zach's workout room far longer than she planned, so she hustled back up the stairs, notebook in hand. It would not do to leave him alone when he was paying her an hourly fee as a personal trainer!

When she came back through the doorway, she stopped in her tracks, one hand flying to her mouth to stifle the gasp of surprise.

Zach was on the scale, his back to her.

He was nude.

Looking intently at the readout as the scale cycled through the various forms of measurement, he didn't realize she was there.

Lydia was frozen in place. Looking. Scanning her gaze up and down his naked backside.

Zach's naked form was so very handsome, masculine, and arousing: shoulders and back tapering down to his waist, with the muscles there flowing down into his glutes, which themselves were strong, firm, rounded, and so very sexy.

I was 100% correct when I told him most guys would be happy to look this good, Lydia thought, savoring every millisecond as she looked intently as this unexpected, incredible sight.

Then Zach shifted his weight, moving his feet slightly.

Obviously trying to ensure that the placement of his soles produces the most accurate reading, Lydia thought. And we'll need to work on his diet — he needs more definition in his upper back.

But those thoughts — registering out of her rational, problem-solving brain — were intrusive. They were quickly banished by the many thoughts and feelings arising from the more emotional and instinctual part of her brain.

Oh, my god! I just love this! He's completely naked! This is so sexy, so naughty!

So much fun!

Though it must have been only a few seconds, Lydia knew this magic moment could not last. Hesitantly, she turned quietly, not wanting to embarrass Zach, intending to leave and then rustle around outside the door or something to announce her impending arrival back in the room.

But she turned back around, not leaving.

This is nice! she thought. I enjoy seeing him nude.

She looked at him. Looked at his ass, his back, his shoulders.

This is so very nice!

Then she remembered the odd thing she had noted only minutes before:

"You're the boss."

He had said it twice.

Did it mean something more than just an off-hand comment? Just a making-conversation response?

Maybe it was a coded invitation that was sneaking through Zach's subconscious.

Oh yeah, I really enjoy this, Lydia concluded, lingering. Emboldened by remembering Zach's comment, she abandoned her plan to re-enter after signaling her arrival somehow.

I like seeing this man completely naked! Maybe he subconsciously wants me to look at him.

Or maybe he quite consciously hopes I'll catch him nude on the scale.

Fearing that one more moment of thought would mean she'd lose her nerve to do the outrageous thing some deeply primal part of her was encouraging, Lydia stepped through the door.

Zach turned, startled. He hopped off the scale, his hands comically fumbling in motion to cover his crotch.

"Oh, shit!" he said, shocked and embarrassed. "I thought you meant, um, well, I thought you were leaving so I could get the numbers from the scale and then, ah, and then, ah, you know, call you back into the room after I-"

Zach's babbling about his predicament wasn't registering in Lydia's brain.

The sight of him naked was registering in her body, though.

Can he see my nipples hardening? she wondered, both flummoxed and aroused at the powerful physical response she could not tamp down.

"-and I thought you meant for me to get the numbers without any extra weight from the shorts, even though that can't be much. I mean, I have no idea about how sensitive this scale is and all, and it looks pretty, um, high-tech, I guess, and, and," he said, still stammering and casting a glance at the scale. "I, uh, well maybe I'm too obsessive about tracking my progress and wanting my . . . my, uh, exact-to-the-ounce weight and, and I'm in my own place so it felt safe to take a few seconds to . . . you know, get a really good reading as a baseline, and you said it'd take some, uh, a minute, to, um, calibrate, like you said, you know, and you said how sensitive the scale is, but then you" — he coughed again, almost hyperventilating at his predicament — "umm, you came in, and . . . oh, god, this is so embarrassing." His face continued to redden.

'You're the boss.' He said it twice, Lydia remembered.

Can I possibly do this?

Zach was retrieving his shorts and briefs from the floor, clumsily trying to hide his naked cock and balls with one hand while reaching for his clothing with the other.

"No," Lydia said, her own voice at first stammering just a bit. "No. You were correct about getting an accurate measurement."

Maybe I can do this!

Please, please be okay with this, Zach, she thought, trying hard to appear non-plussed at his nudity.

She looked at him in the eye as he straightened, hesitantly, clasping his shorts in front of his crotch. "You're right to wonder about the scale's sensitivity, Zach. It's pretty expensive, and is high-tech, but I really need the most accurate numbers to track my clients' progress," Lydia said, raising the notebook a bit to indicate the importance of accurate numbers being recorded there. "And you know I will have to trust all the numbers as I build the perfect workout and eating plan for you."

She let her statement hang in the air between them for a moment, her toes curling inside her gym shoes, not daring to breathe as she teetered on the edge of excitement, worry, panic, arousal — a mix of emotions that flooded her brain and body, all feeding one powerful question:

Is he going to do it? Is he going to get back on the scale completely naked and let me write down the numbers?

Zach's expression was hard to read in spite of the one, clear message written on his face in the form of his reddened cheeks and the flush of his neck.

He was incredibly embarrassed.

But were there any clues he had orchestrated this situation? Lydia couldn't read his expression beyond the tortured embarrassment that had him glancing about to look at anything except her.

He looked down and around, shifted his weight from foot to foot. He coughed. Finally, he raised his eyes briefly to look into hers before averting his gaze again and slowly moving the shorts and briefs away from his crotch, dropping them to the floor with one hand, the other still doing everything possible to hide the sight of his cock and balls. Then, with both hands back in front of his crotch, he stepped up on the scale.

Lydia exhaled and swallowed in relief. Composing herself, she stepped beside him as she pulled the pen from the clip on the inside cover of the notebook. Moving a bit closer to his side, she looked down at the readout on the scale.

It was the perfect position as an excuse to make the next request.

Can I really do this? was the thought that flew through Lydia's mind.

But ruminating on that question was not to be. Surprising herself that she didn't think about the question at all after it popped into her consciousness in this bizarre, arousing situation, Lydia drove straight ahead to the next, fantastic, deliciously sexy instruction to Zach:

"Please move your hands, Zach. I can't see the read-out on the scale."

It was a simple, matter-of-fact request. Her tone was even. Making sure he would hear no tinge of the incredible effect this entire situation was having on her, Lydia took in a slow, deep breath, her pen poised on the page in her notebook, her gaze lowered.

She knew Zach would not be able to tell what she was really looking at. He wouldn't know what she was thinking, either, so she gave her thoughts free rein:

Oh, my god! Oh, my god! I can't believe I'm doing this! Please, ple-e-e-ase, Zach! Do this for me and don't think I'm just a voyeur or a pervert. Just move your hands so I can see your naked cock.

Somehow that last thought calmed her a little, gave her a little more courage, made her a little more bold in her expectation.

Yes, Zach. Expose yourself to me. Show me your penis.

Yes, Zach. Let me see you completely nude because I'm going to remember every micro-second of this sexy situation when I masturbate the instant I get home.

He finally relented, the few seconds of hesitancy on his part fueling Lydia's breathless anticipation and naughty, sexy, arousing thoughts. She was ultimately rewarded when — slowly — he moved his hands to his sides.

Lovely! Just lovely, Zach! she thought.

Did his predicament have some effect on him? He certainly wasn't erect, but he wasn't a guy in the 'grower, not a shower' category, either.

Is this his natural, non-erect size? wondered Lydia.

She hoped so. His cock was quite appealing. Fantasizing about it growing to a solid, exciting length would be great fun.

The pink, velvety skin on the head of his cock looked so inviting, so touchable. And his balls looked inviting, too, nestled against his crotch and so very vulnerable, so sexy in potential surrender to tender caresses.

She was standing right next to a naked man who had exposed himself to her because she asked him (told him?!) to do it.

And now Zach's cock and balls were on display for her to examine.

It was absolutely, without a doubt, the most divinely sexy moment Lydia had experienced since . . . since, when?

She shook herself from her thoughts and her arousal and enjoyment at seeing Zach naked next to her.

It would not do for him to suspect her of ogling him when she was supposed to be business-like and professional.

"Thanks, Zach," Lydia said quickly, forcing her gaze to the numbers on the read-out as they scrolled by. Bringing the notebook to chest level, she scribbled notations on the paper.

Drawing out the moment — it was just too perfect, too sexually charged, too enjoyable — she said, "Hmmm. I wouldn't have guessed a bodyfat percentage quite this high."

She glanced at his face, which was still red-cheeked. A sheen of perspiration had risen on his forehead.

Zach was looking up at the ceiling, trying to avoid all eye contact.

Smiling, Lydia hastened a follow-up comment: "But that's good in a crazy kind of way, huh? This is a pretty respectable number anyway, and we'll get to see you making real progress dropping fat and adding the muscle you want, Zach."

He could only nod.

Glancing down again at the scale, she feigned more interest in the numbers.

Her gaze wasn't on the scale's readout, though, and she congratulated herself on coming up with a comment that now allowed a few extra seconds of what was ostensibly time to double-check the bodyfat numbers but was actually more time for Lydia to enjoy Zach's nudity.

She was enjoying the sight of his naked body. She was was luxuriating in the crazy, hot, sexy, incredibly arousing circumstances that had him completely nude and only inches away from her, standing on her scale at her direction.

This man was naked because she directed him to be that way. And he did it! Now, every second that ticked by as Lydia enjoyed the idea and the sight of a naked man next to her, exposed and vulnerable to her assessment of his body, stiffened her nipples and dampened her pussy. Her body was verifying the message the reality imprinted in her mind: This is so-o-o-o sexy, so arousing, such a fantastic and wonderful stimulation! I want more of this!

His cock looked so inviting. It begged to be fondled, caressed.

At least, that's what Lydia imagined.

He must be trying not get an erection, she thought, noticing the plum-like head hanging at the end of his fleshy shaft. How big would that pretty cock grow? she thought.

Finally, when it was clear the few seconds of her gaze were all that anyone would reasonably need to wait through the cycling of the weight numbers then the bodyfat numbers, she straightened and turned away from him.

"Good, Zach. I have the numbers now. You can get back into your shorts and shirt and we'll finish up the pre-regimen work-up."

Not wanting to spoil anything by having Zach notice she was looking at him for anything other than personal training interest, she remained with her back to him as he hastily stepped off the scale and scrambled into his shorts and his workout tank.

"Okay to turn back around?" Lydia asked when the rustling of fabric had stopped.

"Yeah, sure," Zach said, clearing his throat.

Lydia was smiling as she eased around to face her trainee.

"Thanks for understanding about the measurements being taken in the nude, Zach. We'll have to do that at the start of each workout session in order to track your progress."

Where did that come from? Did I just say that? Lydia thought, wondering at the words that seemed to issue from her mouth with no conscious control.

"Umm, yeah," Zach stammered. "I guess that makes sense. I mean, I, um, I know you have to trust the numbers and all, and it's not like this is a gym with people around, and, and, I guess the scale must be, um, pretty sensitive and accurate and all, and, and . . . and I guess that means, well, I guess-"

Lydia interrupted his tortured justification for what had just occurred. "I apologize, Zach. I simply forgot to mention this, and I really should have. It just didn't occur to me — I guess I was on auto-pilot. However, now that we're past the first awkwardness, starting each session with you nude on the scale should be easier, right? And I do have to record those numbers myself — this particular scale has some notifications that show up with little icons, and I need to see those in addition to the numbers.

In fact, there were no "little icons" on the scale's readout. Lydia's mouth had engaged seemingly of its accord. It would have taken her a while to concoct this excuse consciously.

Get a grip! she thought. I am making up anything possible to make sure this incredible situation will happen again.

Lydia knew the lies would eventually become too blatant for Zach to believe. But yet again, she found herself speaking before thinking: "A nude weigh-in is definitely different, but it does allow me to get really good tracking numbers when your progress begins to come slower because you start reaching tough goals as the bodyfat strips off."

In fact, a nude weigh-in was the furthest thing from Lydia's mind when she went to get her notebook. In fact, she had just made up that entire rationale about getting really accurate numbers. In fact, writing down the numbers as her client called them out — while still clothed — was the way she'd always operated with personal training engagements. It was her profession's code of conduct as well as her own.

But he'd been naked when she walked back in. And he was so sexy standing there nude, his firm butt on glorious display.

It was just too convenient!

And then Lydia remembered:

"You're the boss."

***

Oh, my god! What did I just do? Lydia fretted as she pulled away from the small parking area in front of Zach's townhome to head back through the exit gate and give her medallion back to the guard. I just completely crossed the line!

She was squeezing her legs together to the extent allowed any woman maneuvering a car through traffic. Gripping and releasing the steering wheel, first with one hand, then the other, she tried to think through all the ramifications.

What if he reports me?