tagHumor & SatireThe Treadmill

The Treadmill

byDon Grampa©

Yesterday afternoon about two o'clock or so I was in the exercise room at the YMCA. I was working out on a stationary bicycle when a woman got on the treadmill right in front of me. I would guess that she was about a forty. Both in years and pounds overweight. She was maybe five-two and was wearing a gray sweat suit with the legs of the pants cut off above the knees. She had dark hair cut short, and a really pretty face.

We were the only two in the room, and I could watch CNN on television or her. The television wasn't moving nearly as much as she was so you can guess which one I was looking at. She had headphones on and looked as through she planned on spending the afternoon on the machine. After about five minutes of moving at a pretty good clip, she takes the earphones off and unclips her CD player and places then both on the ledge in front of her. Now she is still walking at a pace of at least four miles per hour and she pulls up her sweatshirt and takes it off. She still has the pants on but now only a sports bra on top.

All the electrified exercise equipment comes with a built in safety feature. The treadmills have a snap-on strap that you wrap around your wrist. The strap has a wire going to a plug that will pull out and shut off the machine if you fall or jerk your arm away. I have never seen anyone actually put it on, and this lady did not use it either. Well, you can guess what is going to happen next, and it did. She leaned over the top of the treadmill handle to drop her sweatshirt on the floor in front, and when she did, her feet went out from under her and she plopped down hard on the rubberized mat.

In a million years you would never guess what happened next. Well, she's flat on her belly, the rubber mat is going around and catches her pants and pulls them down past her butt, leaving her white panty butt waving in the breeze. She's trying to get up, and I can see she can't reach the cut-off plug so I jump up to help her and I pull the plug and the machine stops and moves down to a level elevation. She must have had it at about five or six degrees of elevation. Now when the machine goes down, it catches her sports bra and pulls the top half of her body flush with the mat. The lady is in effect tied to the treadmill by her own clothing. She doesn't appear to be hurt.

She can't move her bottom half at all, and she quickly realizes that the only way she is going to get loose is to slide backwards with the upper half of her body and wiggle out of the sports bra. She gives me a pleading look and asks me to look the other way. I do, and she slips out of the bra, but she can't reach her sweatshirt so has to ask me to get it for her. I step over her, and when I try to pick up the sweatshirt I see that it is also caught under the treadmill. I can't move the shirt so I take off mine and give it to her.

Now I'm six-four and weigh two thirty and the muscle shirt I was wearing does nothing to conceal her charms. And let me tell you she had some pretty good-sized charms. Now we try to wrestle with the pants. I say we because I'm trying to help her up and have my arm around her waist. The pants are stuck really good, and when she tries to wiggle out of them she finds that her panties are stuck as well. She asks me to pull, and when I do she screams like she was stuck with a hot iron, but she slides out of both the pants and panties. She grabs for her crotch and without a word runs for the ladies locker room.

With a great deal of difficulty I manage to extradite the bra and sweatshirt. I roll the rubber mat forward and tug loose her shorts and panties. At this time I find out the reason for the cry when she got loose. About a third of her pubic hair was also stuck and when I lifted her it must have pulled out at the roots. It was all still there in her panties. I rolled her stuff into a ball and went to the front desk to find out how she was.

While I was standing there she came barreling out of the locker room. She is now fully dressed. She goes past us in the lobby, throws my shirt at me, ignores her exercise clothes, and is out the door. I told the staff what happened, but I doubt that she'll return very soon.

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byDon Grampa© 1 comments/ 36274 views/ 1 favorites

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