by Jemma Bell
“What are we doing here? I thought we were going out tonight? I wanted to a have a few drinks and kick back.”
“Now don’t get your panties in a wad, Jenks. I just signed us up for a new class. It’s all part of my master plan to help you land a guy and get you laid.” What the what? I cock my neck back and forth in frustration.
“What kind of class, Layla?” She better not have signed me up for Zumba again. The last time I attempted that, I looked like I was having convulsions. I made the instructor so nervous, she stopped the class to make sure I was ok and not having a seizure or something. “Look at us, we’re ready to go out, not “work out,” I gripe.
“I’ve got it all covered,” she says with a thumb jerk to the back seat where a large gym bag is sitting. “Don’t be a baby and have an open mind, ok? I’d never steer you wrong.”
“I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt here, so don’t make me regret it,” I tell her pushing my glasses further up my nose. We climb out of the truck and walk over to the building. It’s been refurbished nicely and has a very upscale, classy feel to it. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. We’re greeted by a friendly receptionist and Layla checks us in. There’s three large flat screen TV’s on the walls displaying what I assume are the workout rooms, weight rooms, classes and amenities the club has to offer. Clever and bold advertising. The reception girl slides two locker keys across the granite counter to us and directs us to the ladies locker room. I drag my feet behind Layla; I’m nervous about what this mystery class has in store for me. I’m not an incredibly klutzy person, I just know I have no dancing rhythm and can’t sing to save my life. I do occasionally trip over the grout in the kitchen floor or fall going up the stairs. Everybody does. We reach the locker room and find our assigned lockers. Layla digs around in her bag, plops two piles of clothes on the bench and slides one over to me. I examine the incredibly small pieces of cloth that are supposed to be my workout clothes.
“Layla, this looks like underwear,” I tell her while I hold the tiny black shorts up with my thumb and forefinger. The hot pink sports bra doesn’t offer much more coverage. She pulls out two bottles of water, a pack of anti-bacterial wipes and a pair of wristbands; she’s like freakin Mary Poppins. Is there a coat rack in there? I wonder.
“Jenks, get dressed and then I’ll fill you in.” We change quickly into our tiny shorts and even smaller tops. Mine are black and hot pink. Hers are the opposite; hot pink shorts with a black top.
“This better be worth it, is all I have to say,” I inform her huffily. We swipe up the remainder of our supplies, slip our street shoes back on our feet and exit the locker room. She thought of everything else, why not sneakers? I feel self-conscious as we walk down the hall to wherever it is we’re going. I wrap my arms around my middle to try and conceal some of the skin I’ve got on display for the world.
The smell of disinfectant and sweat is strong in the air, music blares from the various studios and people move through different circuits of their routines. We pass along a classroom with a glass wall that allows everyone to see in. There’s a large group of guys watching the class that’s in session. About 12 women sensually dance and swing around metal poles. The intricate turns and placement of their bodies on the poles look very erotic. What I would give to look like one of them. Toned bodies and confidence, I’d be worthy of a guy like Derrick Walker then. With one final twirl around the pole, the music comes to a close and a roar of shouts, whistles, and claps come from the group of guys. The women in the class give a cheeky bow to their audience and clap for themselves as well. As they empty out of the classroom, I notice them all similarly dressed as me and Layla.
“You bitch, did you sign us up for a pole dancing class?” I whisper yell. “How do you expect me to look like that, I can’t even walk and chew gum at the same time. What is this? Your mission to totally humiliate me?” My voice raises on a shriek.
“We don’t expect you to look like that, sweetie, well, at least not until you reach the advanced levels. The next class is for beginners.” A flawless looking woman with chin-length black hair says to me with a kind smile. “I’m Cara and I’ll be your instructor. Give the class a shot; it’s already paid for, so what do you have to lose?” She pronounces her name Ca-Ra, I like that and it’s different.
“I’ll try it, but don’t be surprised if my graceless self, yanks the pole out of the ceiling,” I warn, “I hope you’re insured.” I follow Cara into the classroom and flash Layla the stink eye. It’s her fault we’re here anyway. We choose two poles side by side in the middle of the room and the other poles are quickly occupied by giggling girls eager to start their first beginner pole dancing class.
“Alright, ladies I’d like to start by introducing myself and welcoming you to Galaxy Fitness Club. My name is Cara Quinn and this is my place,” she says with a smile. “I’m part owner of Galaxy, but enjoy instructing, so, more often than not you’ll see me teaching a class or training on the floor.” She speaks very eloquently and has a bubbly personality. No wonder this place is so successful and beautiful.
“We’ll start out easy today with a couple spins and bends,” Cara tells us. “You’ll need a few things before we start, such as water, a wrist or sweat band to stop the pole burns, anti-bacterial wipes to clean your pole and some hand grip. I supply the hand grip so try and remember to bring the rest to our next class.” Layla quickly hands me one of the wristbands she brought and put the other one on her arm. She must have done her research because we are the most prepared girls in the class. We kick off our shoes when Cara instructs us to do so and watch her demonstrate the proper hand placement on the pole to do a frog spin. We work on the spins for a while and then move on to a basic fireman. Yeah right! A basic fireman, I’d love to see a big, muscled firefighter decked out in turn out gear attempt this spin down a pole. Imagine that. “Lean back ladies and cross your feet at the front of the pole, good job, perfect,” Cara praises. “Remember to contract your core muscles. Pole dancing is a great aerobic and toning exercise.”
I notice Layla is having no problem following the directions and looks good doing it. I can’t complete the turns around the pole and keep landing on the wood floor on my butt. It is fun though. I’m working muscles I didn’t even know I had. We practice the frog, the basic fireman, and then the kiss.
“Good work, ladies, let’s try those moves to some music, shall we?” Cara turns on the surround sound and ‘Umbrella’ by Rihanna starts to flow through the speakers. Most of the women in the class are doing fairly well; I’m the only lost cause I can see. The song comes to a close and we clap out the session. “Fantastic job, I’m proud of all of you,” Cara praises.” Same time and place next week and don’t forget your water and wrist protection.” We all start to file out of the room and Cara stops me and Layla. “So what did you think? You survived your first class.”
“That was great! I enjoyed it and the moves were a lot easier than I thought they’d be,” Layla says gushing about how easy the class was for her.
“And you? I noticed you had a little trouble; it’ll get easier the more you practice,” Cara informs me. “This studio is free for ten more minutes; I want you to use that time to practice a little more. Perhaps being on your own in here will make you feel more comfortable.”
“Go for it, Jenks! I’ll go change and when you’re done we’ll go do something you want to do.” The class full of other girls did make me feel self-conscious. I agree with an uneasy nod and Cara turns the music on again. Layla leaves with a quick wave and a grin. I start off slowly with the frog and then transition into a basic fireman. Putting a little extra sway into my hips and sticking out my generous bosom I strut around the pole and attempt the kiss. My hand grip must have worn off, because I lose my hold on the pole and crash in a heap to the hardwood floor with a loud shriek. Once I come out of my daze and open my eyes, I notice a pair of royal blue and black Nike’s right next to my face. The person standing above me says, “Boo!” i
n a voice that sounds like melted chocolate; dark and rich. My eyes travel up muscular legs to royal blue basketball shorts, a black tank top and, higher still, to a face that stars in all of my fantasies. Holy shit, Derrick Walker is standing in front of me. Standing in front of me and I’m wearing clothes that should be considered underwear. I can’t make this shit up.
***Derrick***
Today was the day I’d get to see Amy again. Layla and I plotted and planned all week for me to “bump” into her again at Galaxy. I would be working until 8:00 pm, giving the girls just enough time to complete the class they signed up for. Layla had mentioned something about Amy having little self-confidence and wanted a class that would help make her feel better about herself. Being a guy, I just tossed out the suggestion for a pole dancing class. I was half joking, but in reality, I’d love to see Amy’s body spinning around and sliding down a pole in a skimpy outfit. Of course, naked would be a hell of a lot better, but that’s not an option at the club. Layla sent me a text message when she was on her way to pick up Amy at 6:00.
Layla: Alright, lover boy, she has no idea where we’re going. I’ll get her in the same building as you and then you’re on your own. I don’t want to lose my best friend over this if you’re not worth it.
I understand her anxiety where her friend is concerned. She has nothing to worry about. Amy has consumed my thoughts for days. I’ve had to put off Mitzi three nights in a row now and she’s starting to get pissed about it. Fuck that! Let her be pissed off. I want to see Amy, talk to her, stare into her stormy gray eyes and just enjoy some time with her.
Derrick: I get it, Layla, just get her there and I’ll do the rest. Thanks for your help. And, by the way, I am worth it!
I finished up my session with Mr. Simms at 8:00. He looked ridiculously guilty when I questioned him about his diet and whether or not he fell off the wagon again. He claimed that there were just too many cookies hanging around the house and in order to get them out of sight he had to eat them. Hey, even I enjoy the occasional Tag-Along! I’ll cut him some slack this week because he’s supporting his daughter's Girl Scout Troop, but come next week, no pain no gain. I left the weight room just in time to see the ladies file out of the pole studio. I didn’t see Amy among them, but Layla was there.
“Don’t tell me she didn’t come!” I’ve been waiting all week for this and she didn’t come.
“Relax, sugar lips, she stayed behind in the class to practice for a few more minutes. She had a little trouble with a few moves and Cara offered her ten extra minutes by herself.”
“Oh, ok. Did she enjoy the…class?” I blurt out, relieved that she’s here. I’ve spent the week trolling Layla’s Facebook pictures for a glimpse of this girl to see what she’s like as a person. Best guess is that she’s shy, lights up when she smiles, loves a ridiculous looking red dog, looks hot with or without her glasses, and is adorably clumsy.
“She was shocked that this is where we ended up on a Friday night. She was dressed to go out, so if she’s willing, ask her to go for a drink with you or something.”
“Yeah, that sounds good. Let me see how she reacts to seeing me again and we’ll go from there. Thanks for getting her within my grasp.”
“Like I said before, you better be worth the risk! Tread cautiously, she’s very skittish and this might throw her for a loop. Good Luck, Romeo, I’ll check you guys out in a few.” Layla pats me on the back and continues to the locker room.
I hear the music pumping from the speakers of the studio. I sneak up the hallway and peer into the studio through the glass wall. What I see makes me want to throw myself onto the floor, bowing down, just like in the movie Wayne’s World and thank the creators of women’s spandex. Tiny black shorts encase her fabulous ass and a hot pink sports bra covers a superb set of tits. She’s not overly tall, but her legs appear to go on for miles. Oh, baby what I would give to be that pole right now, have her legs wrapped around me and make us sweat in a more erotic sort of dance. I’d better stop this train of thought. The last thing I need is to have a pitched tent when I talk to her again. She’s attempting a few of the easier moves and is doing well by herself. I decide now’s as good a time as any and move into the studio. She hasn’t seen me yet and, Lord have mercy, she starts to strut around the pole and use her assets to look sexy. My little librarian is blowing my mind. Oh Shit…she must have lost her grip on the pole, because she crashes to the floor with a loud screech. I jog over to her to make sure she isn’t hurt. Once I notice her focus on my shoes I say “Boo” and watch as her eyes travel on up my legs, stomach, chest, and all the way up to my face. I flash her my most panty melting smile and say, “Well, we meet again.” She just blinks at me as if I’m not real. I want to be real to her, solid, constant. I reach out and push her glasses back up her nose as they slid off during her fall. She still has no words as I help her up from the floor. She’s blinking rapidly and the shocked look on her face is incredibly cute.
“Are you hurt anywhere? Can I get you an ice pack for your elbow?” I inquire. Her elbow seems to be where she landed the hardest.
“Derrick? What are you doing here? I’m fine!”
“I heard you were going to be here tonight, so I’m here too.” She squints her eyes and reflexively nods her head. “Ok, I also work here, so it’s not a complete coincidence.” She wraps her arms around her naked stomach in a vain attempt to cover up some skin. Pity, because she’s soft in all the right places.
“Why would you come here to see me, Derrick?” She asks seeming surprised. “You don’t even know me.”
“But I want to know you,” I say to her and reach out to brush the back of my hand down her cheek and rest it on her shoulder. She’s still a little damp from her workout and her skin feels like silk. “I was wondering if you would like to join me this evening for a drink and we can spend some time together.”
“But I’m hanging out with Layla tonight.” She sounds disappointed and I know I am. “Maybe she could come with us…if you don’t mind, that is?” There’s still hope, I feel like doing a fist pump into the air.
“No, I don’t mind at all I’ll call my buddy, Riven, to keep her company, so she doesn’t feel like a third wheel.” I’m almost positive Riven has no plans this evening and would help a brother out with the tag-along friend.
“Um, ok, let me go get cleaned up and changed.”
“I’ll do the same and meet you out front. See you in about 15 minutes.” I rub my palm down her arm and give her hand a squeeze. She smiles shyly at me and leaves to go get changed. I jog to the locker room and shower in record time. I quickly throw on my clothes, a pair of stone washed jeans, an aqua colored V-neck t-shirt and my favorite boots. I shove my workout clothes in my locker, grab my wallet and phone and head up front. My phone rings and I look down at the caller ID to see that Mitzi is calling. I roll my eyes to the ceiling and take a deep breath before I answer the call.
“I expect you to answer the phone when I call you Derrick. I’ve left you three messages today. Where the hell have you been?” She shrieks.
“Mitzi, I’ve been at work all day. What’s so important that it couldn’t wait for me to call you back?”
“I wanted to make sure you remembered your photo shoot for tomorrow morning with Zach Lovell. These are preliminary shots for a new book cover. You should be well rested and relaxed…I thought I could help with that.” She says the last part in a seductive voice.
“Not tonight, Mitzi. It’s been a long day. I’m just going to go out and have a drink with Riven and be home before 11:00.”
“Alright, precious, as long as you’re well rested for tomorrow. I’ll see you soon.” And with that, she hangs up.
I need to have a serious conversation with Mitzi soon. If I’m going to try for something with Amy, I can’t have Mitzi interfering. The worst mistake I ever made was allowing our working relationship turn into something physical. It was only supposed to be a sexual outlet for both of us as neither of us was attached at th
e time. I pocket my phone and hear voices coming down the hall, I turn around just in time to see Layla and Amy come out the doors. God she’s beautiful! I can’t wait to get to know her better.
Chapter #6
Nerd Girl Problem #106
Billiards and balls and darts, oh my!
We decide to go to On the Break, a local billiard hall and play a few games of pool. Derrick thought it would be a place where we could talk, have fun, and get a drink. I’m still a little bit in shock that I ran into him again and that I’m sitting in the front seat of his beautiful car right now. I know Layla had something to do with this, but right now her lips are tightly sealed. I’m incredibly angry with her for being so sneaky and helping set all this up. However, who could stay mad at their best friend who figured out a way to get you together with the guy of your dreams? I’m not sure if I should strangle her or kiss her. We’ll see how the night goes. Layla is following behind us in ‘Dotty’ and Derrick’s friend, Riven, is supposed to meet us at the pool hall.
“So, tell me a little about yourself?” Derrick says.
“What do you want to know?” I counter.
“Let’s start with the basics, okay? How about…what’s your favorite color?” Derrick chuckles at his simple question. I watch as he switches gears with precision and handles this monster car like a pro. I wish I knew how to drive a car like this.
“Purple. You?” Wow! He smells so good and the blue shirt he’s wearing really sets off his tan complexion. I wonder if it’s left over from the summer or if he goes to a tanning salon to maintain that golden color.
“Red, but I like purple, too,” he says giving me a wink and a half grin. I think he can tell I’m nervous because he reaches over and places his hand over mine that I’d been wringing in my lap.
“It’s okay, Amy. We’re going to take this slow, you get to know me and I get to know you. Give and take, you know?” We ask each other the simple questions. He knows my favorite food is shrimp scampi, that I love to read, and enjoy going to the movies. I know his favorite food is margarita pizza, he loves playing board games, and is interested in science fiction books and movies.