***
The next night I went to the gym again, wondering if Julie would be there (okay, not wondering, but hoping). I wondered what she’d been about to say before we were both interrupted last night.
She was working, sitting right there at the front desk to greet me as I signed in. She wasn’t wearing a bulky sweatshirt this time, either. Instead, she sported a tight, short-sleeved white golf shirt with the logo of the gym in the upper left. Her torso looked lean and taut, and the swell of her large breasts stretched the fabric to its limit. Had she deliberately worn a shirt a size too small? If so, then she’d probably also deliberately chosen a white shirt so that I could see through it to a large extent: her bra was clearly visible, and that too must have been paper thin because I could se
