He proved me wrong. A sweeping glide of his bare torso filled my eyes. I spun my head back and fourth, no one was present in the shop. Oh my goodness.... I just couldn't help myself, I reached out and stroked his torso "Hmm arn't you a bit young to be working out" He felt softly sexy "Ha. I'm seventeen" Knew it. Five minutes passed, we were in the storage room. He shoved me up against the wall, boxes of food and biscuit boxes cluttered to the ground. "What if your manager comes in?" I huffed as. He looked Italian or Greek, and in my mind beautiful. I found myself timing my work out to be in the locker room at the same time. I have gotten better at my timing and he seemed to be hanging around the locker room longer and longer. I would catch him changing out of his wet N2N, Cocksox, or Joe Snyder swim suit, and pulling on a skimpy thong, and then some shorts, a tank top or muscle shirt by underarmour, and a cycling cap. He would smile at me and from time to time through the mirrors,. More

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