Thigh Machine

I was in the gym, late Tuesday night -- around 8:30. Tuesday and Thursday were lower body. It was quiet because Tom Anderson and I {my names Mike Washington} were the only ones in there. I had seen one of the neighbor's niece, Laura, came into the gym shortly after I started my routine. We lived in a very small, gated community. That's the only reason I knew she was the Weston's niece. I met her when my wife and I welcomed them into the neighborhood. She had helped them move. Tom and I exchanged greeting with Laura before she went into the sauna at the end of the gym and return to our workouts.

I admired Tom not only for his success; but for the fact that he got it without being a typical cut-throat suit. Tom was such a great guy that I made a conscious effort not to stare at his well-endowed wife when she walked through their home in her bra. If he were a shmuck, I wouldn't be as polite.

I later found out Laura had a twin sister that couldn't make it when the Weston's moved in. The last 20 minutes on the treadmill, Becky came into the gym. She asked us had Laura been in here. Tom pointed her in the direction of the sauna. They were in town from college house-sitting for their aunt and uncle-in-law. I heard there discussion muffled by my earbuds. I removed one. That wasn't a big help until Becky opened the door.

"I'm not sitting in that house by myself." Becky said in a voice that was mostly annoyed at her sister for leaving her alone. I could hear the slightest bit of uneasiness that said she was genuinely afraid of being in the house by herself.

"Why did they pick the biggest chicken in the family to protect the family?"

Becky retorted with a more confident middle finger.

Nothing, really, to protect. The Weston's home was brilliant. But since we started the neighborhood watch, all the neighbors know each other. A couple's turn to patrol is less a safety measure and more of a time for them to reconnect over a walk around the area. I assumed they were being paid to do it to get money for books or whatever.

Becky was DEFINITELY not dressed for a workout in the gym. Tight curls hung from the bun in her hair. She had on a peasant skirt to match her layered tanks. Ordinarily, I love a wedge heel. Becky had a very cookie-cutter, cheerleader look to her.

This is to say she should have a lot more options on a Tuesday night than standing around a stale old gym. It was clear she dreaded being alone. A few minutes of wandering around -- stretching and reading warning labels & instructions on machines -- she decided to take a seat on the thigh machine. She read the instructions on this and began an awkward extension. The resistance was, clearly, set too high for her. Re-adjusting, she continued. Even with the flair of her skirt, she could not get the complete extension. She hiked the skirt up past the leg supports. That must have done what she needed it to do. Becky began moving at a pace as though she used this machine all the time.

From my angle, I could see her eyes grow wide. I followed their path to her image reflected in the mirror. The height of her skirt revealed what appeared to be a tiger-print thong. Upon further examination, there looked to be a dark spot right in the center. She didn't stop her work out the whole time. Becky closed her eyes. She brought a hand up between her legs. I assumed she was in shock at what she was seeing and was covering herself up. I heard a faint squish and saw movement. The same digit that just let Laura have it was now giving it to Becky.

Tom --- generally a guy who has it all together because approaches every situation like a game of chess -- was strangely confused. He sat at the curl machine his best WTF face on. As she began kneading her young puss through her thong, he looked at me and mouthed, "Does she know we can see her?" I put a finger to my lips. Just in case she couldn't and somehow forgot we were there, I didn't want to disturb the ignorance that was giving all three us bliss. Maybe she was invisible with her eyes closed. Tom wasn't curling any more, and I stood at the sides of the treadmill -- our workouts clearly over for the night.

Being so late, I was pretty sure none of the other residents would catch what was going on. I *did* fear Laura would come out of the sauna before her sister was finished the display she was giving Tom and I. We had long since stopped what we were doing. We were now happy victims. Tom and I just happened to reap the benefits of being there. Had she come in at that time, we would have just been two men in our late thirties gawking at her sister. Her sister who, in the porn world, would have been considered 'barely-legal'. Fortunately, that didn't happen. Both of us knew we were going to go home to our respective ladies with heighten passion. The only negative I could see would be trying to explain where it came from.

Becky continued her brazen, live, one-woman show for herself as the audience. She quickly tired of her thong acting as a buffer to her pleasure. This was the first time she had stopped spreading her legs for her reflection's enjoyment. She brought her legs together and stood up. Her thong dropped to a ball below her and she picked up were she had left off. She began with just her middle finger between her lips. Her thumb worked circles around her clit. With each climb of pleasure, came another finger. Her other hand snaked its way under tank after tank. The way she dug revealed a matching tiger-print bra. She dug further still to pull and rub the nipple of her petite tit.

At two fingers, she paused to bring them to her lips. A smack of her lips as she sucked her juices from them and she was back the work where she left it. I could tell that she wasn't going to make it pass three fingers. Her breathing was already a wheeze. She began to make the most attractively disgusting face. She matched her expression with agonized breathing as though struggling to keep her orgasm at bay. It overtook her. To this day, you could convince me the whole thing never happened. Especially unbelievable was the way it overtook her... ...and the mirror. Her counterpart got sprayed by all the passion Becky was building up. Tremor after tremor followed until she regained composure. I thought to myself how much I would have loved to be the towel she had grabbed to clean behind herself.

Laura did finally come out of the sauna. She knew it was strange to see the two of us turn to her sharply. We had the dear-in-the-headlights looks of two children who had just been caught doing something. But what? Laura couldn't see anything that looked like incriminating evidence. Tom and I didn't move for fear that she would. No need to rock the boat if we weren't in the wrong. My blood was pumping faster than it had through my entire workout. Neither of us wanted to make eye contact with Laura. As Becky left, she got a big but silent "Thank you," from each of us.