Free Web NovelChapter 17: A Friendly Work Out
The next morning, David’s alarm went off with the same aggressive persistence as the day before, and this time he actually managed to sit up on the first try, which he counted as a small personal victory.
He got through his routine on the floor before even leaving the apartment — thirty push-ups, thirty sit-ups, both brutal in their own specific ways, arms shaking by the end of the set but holding steady enough to finish. He wiped the sweat off his forehead, glanced at the faint glow of the timer still ticking down at the edge of his vision, and allowed himself a small nod of approval.
[Strength +1. Endurance +1.]
"There we go," he muttered, pulling his shirt back on. "Slow and steady, or whatever."
Before he left, he pulled up his account and, wincing the whole way through it, paid off two days’ worth of the utility bill — not enough to fully clear the debt, but enough to buy himself some goodwill and, hopefully, keep the lights on a little longer.
He grabbed his oversized headphones on the way out — a gift from some birthday years ago, older than half his wardrobe but still functional — and slotted them over his ears as he started the walk to the gym, thumb scrolling until Smooth Criminal started playing. David wasn’t shy about it: he was, unapologetically, an MJ fan, had been since he was a kid.
Even though he did have a pretty cringe singing voice, he never did seem to care when it came to singing along.
"Annie, are you okay," he murmured under his breath, falling into step with the beat, grinning slightly at his own ridiculousness. "You okay, Annie?"
By the time the gym came into view, he’d cycled through the song twice, thoroughly invested in his own private concert, and pushed through the door with the bell chiming overhead.
Mrs. Walbury was already there, dressed in gym wear — a fitted top and leggings, different from the office look she’d had on yesterday — and David felt his composure stutter for half a second before he caught himself, pulling his headphones down to rest around his neck and pocketing his phone quickly, cracked screen angled away from her out of pure reflex.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey, you," she said, smiling. "Wasn’t expecting you to actually be on time. Or early, even."
"Told you I’m serious about this," David said. "Why does nobody believe me?"
"I didn’t say I didn’t believe you," she said, raising both hands in mock surrender. "Maybe I was wrong to doubt you a little. We’ll see."
"Hey," David said, pulling his headphones down to rest around his neck. "Wasn’t sure if I was early or if you’d already be here."
"Told you I take this seriously," Mrs. Walbury said, smiling as she tied her hair back. "So, how’d the reps go yesterday? You feel it this morning?"
"Everywhere," David admitted. "Like, everywhere. I didn’t know shoulders could hurt like that."
She laughed. "Good sign, honestly. Means you actually pushed yourself instead of coasting." She grabbed a clipboard off the side table, flipping it open. "Have you eaten today? Actually eaten, I mean, not just coffee and vibes."
"...Define ’eaten.’"
She gave him a flat look. "David."
"I’m kidding...don’t you know how to take a job?"
Lol
Mrs. Walbury shaked her head, chuckling lightly as she flipped through her clipboard.
"Yeah, I ate," David said.
"What’d you have?" freewёbnoνel.com
"Garlic butter shrimp pasta," David lied smoothly, knowingly duely well that the pasta was certainly plain.
’Obviously I’m not telling my gym trainer that dinner last night was expired soda and half a cup of instant ramen,’ he thought. ’And that breakfast was a granola bar I found wedged behind the couch cushions.’
"Wait — you cook?" Mrs. Walbury looked up from the clipboard, genuinely surprised.
"Like, actual meals, not just microwave stuff?"
"Yeah," David said, committing now that he’d already started the lie. "It’s kind of a hobby, honestly. I like it more than going out, most days."
"Huh." She tilted her head, studying him for a second like she was recalculating something.
"Okay, that’s — that’s actually a green flag. Guy who trains and cooks for himself? That’s rare. Most guys your age can’t make anything that isn’t microwaved."
[Temptation Level: 12(11+1).]
’She’s into guys who cook,’ David thought, seizing the opening without hesitation. "Yeah, no, I take it pretty seriously," he said. "Sometimes I’ll just cook to unwind, honestly. Set the mood, you know — good music, something on the stove."
Mrs. Walbury laughed, shaking her head. "Okay, now you’re just showing off. But I respect it." She glanced at him again, smile lingering a beat longer than professional small talk usually called for. "Alright, I’m even more curious now about how you’re gonna hold up today."
She clapped her hands together once, snapping back into business mode. "Okay — that’s enough chit-chat. Let’s get moving. Follow me."
With that, she led him through the lobby toward the training room, offering a quick rundown as they walked — proper form mattered more than speed, hydration mattered more than people thought, and she hoped he wasn’t planning to survive this whole thing on ramen alone.
David, for his part, spent most of the walk shamelessly staring at her rear, or more specifically the subtle jiggle which displayed from her marvelous ass cheeks with each step.
’Okay, focus,’ he told himself, dragging his eyes away just as they reached the training room.
Equipment lined the walls — weight racks, a few treadmills, mats stacked along one side, all reasonably well-kept despite the modest size of the place. Mrs. Walbury walked him to the center of the floor and turned to face him.
"So — any experience with jump rope?"
David let out a short laugh. "That’s it? That’s the warm-up? I feel like you’re underestimating me here."
She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Oh, is that right? Alright then — let’s see what you’ve got. Treadmill instead. Light jog, five to ten minutes."
"Fine by me," David said, following her over to the treadmill tucked against the far wall, the overhead light above it flickering slightly like it hadn’t been fixed since the building went up.
But he really couldn’t complain about the lights, not when he didn’t even have power at home. He was truly going through alot. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓
She set the machine to a light pace and gestured for him to get on. He stepped up, and for the first few minutes it actually wasn’t bad — steady, manageable, nothing like the disaster of his first run.
Mrs. Walbury adjusted his posture once, correcting the angle of his shoulders and the position of his hands on the rail, and after that he settled into a rhythm that felt, for once, almost sustainable.
"Doing alright?" she asked.
"Yeah — yeah, this is actually fine," he said, a little surprised himself.
"Good. Ten minutes, then we get into the real work." She stepped back, grabbing a mat off the stack to run through her own stretches while she waited, glancing over occasionally to make sure he hadn’t fallen off.
He couldn’t help stealing a few glances at her as well. However, he only did so whenever she took a step forward, the plushness of her already big, round ass swaying gently with each stride.
"Mama mia..." he muttered under his breath.
But right then, a new notification popped up right in David’s field of view, blocking his view of the treadmill display.
[New Quest Acquired: Taking First Base]
[Objective: Place penis consensually on Mrs. Walbury’s face.]
[Time Limit: 5 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes, 47 seconds.]
’Great,’ David thought flatly. ’Perfect timing. Really appreciate you popping up right at that massive view.’
Still, once the annoyance passed, something in it landed with a bit more weight.
’Guess this means I can’t just keep it at looking anymore. Time to actually work toward the touching part too.’
***
Hey guys, I want to thank you for your support and due to that, I thought of a friendly challenge for both of us.
For every 200 powerstones I’ll release 10+ bonus Chapters...so, if you find it worth while, you can make your decision. Thank you.🫠
