Blake usually goes to the gym before and after work, so his schedule is predictable. But this morning, he said he’d be in at noon. I spent the whole morning fuming, though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t know why. The emptiness of the office without his body taking up space felt unbearable. I needed him there. By the time he arrived, sweaty and beaming, he first took off his soaked shirt and dropped it on top of his backpack. And there I stood, transfixed, counting every muscle in his body as if my life depended on it. And I didn’t even try to hide it. His bush was stunning, decorated with little pearls made from his sweat. My throat was dry.
OB
2025-03-06 17:07:05 +0000 UTC