Chapter 8

“Don’t forget, you’ve got physical therapy today, kiddo,” dad said after swallowing a gulp of coffee. “We’ve missed too many appointments.”

When I looked at him, he was fixated on my mother’s plunging neckline. As she ate her breakfast, I hid a glance but joined him, marveling at the jiggles of her braless chest beneath a thin ivory blouse.

He was right. I hadn’t attended all week, and Friday sessions were even more important. They tracked any weekly changes to my baseline capabilities.

“Okay, dad.”

“Huh?” Mouth open, he tore his eyes from his wife to gaze at me, a puzzled look on his face, before nodding. “Oh, yeh. Right. Therapy. Yes, right after lunch. Got it.”

Even as I opened my mouth to reply, he turned to my mother and again forgot I existed. I swallowed a chuckle. Whatever had happened—this new normal—it’d happened to us all. With a jolt, I gazed down at Shayna as her wide tongue swept the back of my hand.

“Good girl.”

After flashing her sparkling eyes up at me, she headed for the glass door. Once I’d followed her out, I smiled, watching her dash about, hunting for the morning’s special spot. While we were outside, my mother’s car started. After Shayna rushed to me, I returned just in time to see dad wave and pull the door closed behind him. For the briefest of seconds, his eyes were unfocused, and his jaw trembled. An expression of concern flitted across his pale face before disappearing in a swift shake of his head.

Although he flashed me a tight grin, he was silent while loading me into the van. We both could use a break from the house. And I enjoyed therapy. “Better Strength Physical Therapy” had a pool. And exercise gear to help mitigate the disease’s ever-encroaching effects. And cute techs. Sometimes. If I was lucky.

“Call me if you need me.” With a smile, dad hooked my bag to the rear of the chariot once we were in the lobby.

While I did my exercises, he would head to the corner coffee shop and work until pool time. After a quick nod, I returned his grin and turned to the young guy behind the desk. With a navy polo shirt painted to his broad, muscular chest, Jake’s bright smile and gleaming blue eyes beneath a shock of sandy brown hair greeted me as I rolled closer. Beside me, Shayna’s tail wagged slowly.

“Hey there, Kyle.” Always so cheerful, his voice seemed even lighter this morning. “Cindy’s got you today.”

Winner! Winner! Chicken dinner! Cindy was easily one of the hottest PT techs at “Better Strength.” A college student in her 20s, with piercing light blue eyes and long straight honey blonde hair, she was gifted with a lean, petite frame. Top-heavy, she was a living doll. Also sweet as can be and a walking encyclopedia of human physiology. The complete package. And, oh, by the way, Jake’s girlfriend. Mister “nicest guy on the planet.”

As he smiled and gestured towards an open set of double doors, I sighed. Not that I’d have a chance with a girl like her, but ... Well, a kid could dream, right? And before my latest dreams, tight, little—well, mostly little—except for her chest, Cindy had featured quite prominently in many of them.

After a quick glance at Shayna, who gazed up at me, her head cocked to one side, I waved to Jake and headed past him into the main room. Packed with all manner of exercise equipment, weight benches, and areas for floor work, it wasn’t as crowded as it would be later. The place smelled of leather, rubber, and disinfectant with just the barest hint of sweat.

“Kyle!”

At the melodious sound of Cindy’s voice, I turned, bracing for my heart to hammer my chest and my body to undergo its normal pubescent boy jitters. Those began as I watched her ... I don’t know how to describe her motion. Graceful? Elegant? Floating? Flouncing? All I knew was the universe narrowed to her approaching black-clad figure and glowing smile. In sprayed-on black yoga pants—two-finger gap for the record, if you’re keeping score—and a massively straining taut black crop top, her clothing hid everything and nothing.

In fairness, she’d been gifted her looks and body, but the hardened stomach muscles rippling as she moved were the product of a lot of hard work. Hair tied in a ponytail that bounced behind her, she squatted down before my chair. If anything, her smile broadened even further, and her pale blue eyes twinkled. Her lips were moving. Oh, shit! I’m supposed to be listening.

“ ... and then we’ll do the usual stuff, okay?”

“Uh, huh,” was all I could muster.

It took every tiny muscle in my neck to keep focused on her face and not the impressive globes beneath her chin. Also, her pink-nailed hands gripped each of my armrests, leaving her spread, black-clad legs, knees out, overlapping the front of my chair. As my pulse spiked, the first work-out was already happening.

“Oof.” As her lips pursed, Cindy’s eyes widened.

At Shayna’s tail thumping the side of the chariot, I glanced below Cindy’s chest. Shayna had nudged into her crotch. When she did it again, harder, Cindy stared at me. Her only motion was her fingers clawing along the armrests. At the sound of Shayna’s long tongue scraping over the stretched yoga pants, Cindy’s shaking jaw lowered. At last, her eyes blinked.

She should’ve leaped to her feet. Flown backwards. Yelled. Done something. Except she didn’t.

“Oh...” was all she managed when Shayna’s muzzle drove deeper into her, pushing into her so forcefully Cindy’s nails sank deep into the leather. Even then, Cindy still didn’t rise. Didn’t scold me. Didn’t scold Shayna. Instead, she did nothing but sway under the dog’s assault as her face became ever darker crimson.

When Shayna’s teeth rapidly nipped against her crotch, Cindy finally swallowed. After a quick glance between her legs, she returned to stare at me. Only then did she release her clawed fists and stagger upwards.

A glistening wet spot now marked the center of that magical two-finger convex mound. Also, two prominent spikes had appeared atop her still heaving chest. As tremors raced through Cindy, she gulped air for several seconds before rolling her lips and forcing a grin.

“Uh, go ahead and start with, um, these,” she said in a low, wavering voice. Still wide-eyed and flicking her gaze between me and Shayna, Cindy lifted her shaky hands to a pair of wall-mounted resistance bands. After placing them in my palms, she wobbled backwards a step. “I’ll, uh ... Um, I’ll be right, uh, back, Kyle.”

Leaving behind one more scent, that of sweet arousal, she turned and fled. After moving much less elegantly than before, with several glances over her shoulder at us, she disappeared behind an “Employees Only” door.

Her boyfriend is too nice to her. He needs to be much rougher.

Huh? As I pulled on the stretchy rubber ropes, my head tilted. Was that my inside voice’s mumble? And how would I know what she needed? Cindy had taken Shayna’s assault silently. That’s why, idiot. She’d enjoyed it. Idiot. Woah. No need to be abusive, inside voice. Or was it my voice? Perhaps the “idiots” were not from my voice at all?

You should tell her.

What? No. Cindy was young, but ... She was a grown woman and seemed quite happy with Jake. Nor was he a fool. If there was something, anything at all, she wanted, he’d provide it for her. I would’ve. Also, it wasn’t my place to get involved.

With a grunt, Shayna settled beside me to watch me tug and release over and over. My gaze drifted to the closed door. Somewhere beyond it, Cindy was probably fingering herself into moaning relief.

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