<strong>Ryan Connors</strong><br/>Minetto Gym Club<br/><hr/><br/>"Thanks, Mr. Mulligan. Hope you had an agreable workout," Ryan said with his best professional smile. In fact, he couldn't really remember the man's name, but had read it from the screen of the computer behind the counter when the client had pulled his membership card from the slot. Mr.... Mulligan... was just one of the usual clients: mid-40s, a gift ticket for his birthday, flab that would make the Michelin man even more white in envy. And agreable hadn't quite cut it, since he was catching his breath like a fish stranded ashore, and the white shirt hung to his overweight frame from perspiration. Yet, Ryan kept the professionally calm and friendly facade - after all, they wanted to keep the client.<br/><br/>It hadn't been Ryan's choice to work at the Minetto Gym Club. Like so many of his High School year, he had hoped to get away from this town in the middle of nowhere, and at first it had looked good. He had been accepted at Arizona State College, had a job to pay for his life and tuition. But Ryan also liked to party - and when he had suggested to move one of the parties to the house of the caretaker, who had a weak spot for carefully restored spanish colonial style furniture, which had suffered in the further course of the night from being exposed to considerable amounts of beer, juice and other body fluids - urine being the exception - his coeds had rather quickly dumped him, and opened up to the authorities who had had the idea in the first place. Good bye, college. Welcome back, Minetto.<br/><br/>That had been one year ago. But he was working to get back - working at the Gym Club as a coach, and more preferably a personal trainer to those who could afford it. Money was good, and since he lived with his parents, he could save most of it to take another attempt at a college career - and then leave Minetto for good. So where his plans.<br/><br/>He checked the journal in front of him. They had a registration for a new client - Ms. Kate Bennet. In fact, Ryan hoped it would be<em>the</em>Kate Bennet he knew, and in a town like this, chances were odd that there were two Kate Bennets. She was the mother of one of his high school buddies, and eventual college buddies, hadn't Ryan's academic career taken the way through the trapdoor. Yet he remembered her - and he remembered the nights where Kate Bennet had been in front of his inner eye, naked and with spread legs, while his cock had been in his hand, wanking furiously to the fantasy of fucking her. Maybe that was awkward, but Ryan perceived it as more or less natural - unnatural would have been not to become aroused by the mature beauty with her red hair, tan skin and classic good looks. She should be here any moment...<br/><br/>Ryan took a deep breath, adjusted the fit of the tight polo shirt with the Club's sign emblazoned on the right chest. On his lean, muscular frame, it fit quite well... well enough to get him some looks from the ladies at the gym, or in bars when he went out. He wasn't a shy one when it came to women, in that regard, college had been a literal blast for him. But similar as with all men, there was the one grand prize that you dreamt of, but usually had no chance to win. And today, if his reveries had anything to do with reality, Ryan wanted to grasp at this opportunity.