Not getting a chance to continue my short lived romance with my old self (partly out of fear and partly because of the kids), the night left me frustrated and I felt that my body needed to feel pleasure.  Torn on what to do, I slept little that night.  But when the morning came, I knew it was time to work off that frustration by exercising.

Wanting to look and feel good going into this new scene, I showered first and blow dried my hair, as opposed to just throwing on clothes and going.   I put my hair back into a ponytail, for practicality sake, and besides, she normally did it that way when she went to the gym.

Going to the closet, I was excited to try on my new outfit.  I actually didn’t try it on yet, I just bought it because it looked good on the mannequin.  The site of it on me might have been better than the mannequin.  I squeezed into a sports bra, pushing my breasts together and up.  I laughed as I hopped up and down quick, reveling in the sexy jiggle they did as I bounced.  Sliding the shirt on, it was a salmon color, sort of pink, which I knew was symbolic.  The shirt was tight, stopped at my midsection, and really showed off my assets.  My tits looked amazing in the shirt and keeping them so high and together accentuated my torso, leaving the most feminine curve to it.  The shirt just flat out showed off my flat soft stomach and tight midsection.  Meghan didn’t have a six-pack, nor did I want her to have one.  Her stomach was flat and trim, but soft and sexy.  This shirt allowed everyone to admire her hard work.  My hard work.

Sliding the shorts on, I was a little worried they were too short.  They were black, but had a stripe down the legs the same color as my top.  They stopped right below my ass, and at least they were so tight that they wouldn’t ride up on me.  Viewing myself from the front in the mirror, they shorts stopped about 3 inches past my pussy, and I admired that little v-shape of space that showed right under my pussy and between my thighs before my thighs came together.

Applying just a tiny bit of mascara and lip gloss, I slid on my socks and sneakers and was on my way.

As I drove to the gym, I wondered what this experience would be like.  As my old self, I rarely went to the gym because of my schedule, but when I was there, I felt invisible.  That feeling was good though because I didn’t want anyone to see me.  And the workouts were so awkward for me because I was out of shape, I left feeling embarrassed, and many time worse about myself than I went in.

Signing in, my trainer, Michele, came out of the office and greeted me.

“Hey stranger!” teased Michele.

“Hey.” I replied, trying to sound like I was guilty.  She had no idea how much of a stranger I really was.

“Looks like you’ve kept up your diet” commented Michele as she inspected my body and new outfit.

“New outfit?” She asked.

“Yup.  It’s a symbol of me starting over.  I’m reinventing myself” I said.  She had no idea the reality of those words, but understood enough to say, “Sounds like you worked things out then”.

What did that mean?  Was Meghan going through something that I had no idea about?  I needed to learn more.

“Let’s get going” Michele said.  She led me to the Stairmaster to get started.

As I warmed up on the Stairmaster, I could see the men trying to catch glimpses of me.  I loved the attention.  I wanted to be noticed.  I don’t know if I did it on purpose, but I could notice my hips swaying heavily as I did the stairs.  With my hips and ponytail swaying in unison, my heart rate began to rise.  I could tell I was starting to warm up.  And the more time I spent on it, the more I could see men trying to steal a good look at me, and positioning themselves around me to get a better view.  My adrenaline picked up, and I began to work harder.  I loved this.

Before long, my warm-up was done and Michelle reappeared.  “Ready for your stations?”  Meghan’s key to her success in the gym was a rigid schedule of circuit training.  There’s no way I could have kept up in my old body, and I looked forward to seeing how hers would perform.

After the second cycle around, we stopped for a short break and Michelle said, “I haven’t ever seen you work this hard Meghan.  It’s amazing.  I’m proud of you.  Keep it up, ok? 
Shocked that I was working harder than the old Meghan, I smiled.  I loved how this body felt, even when it hurt and was tired.   And I wanted to push myself hard in it to get it into even better shape than it already was.

“So, have you worked things out?” asked Michelle. 

I didn’t know how to respond and was in luck when she continued, “I had gotten worried about you when you told me you didn’t feel like you were making the most of your life and how you wished your husband could have a better life.  That was some pretty deep stuff.”

I had searched for clues to explain why this gift was given to me for the first week, but the more time passed, the less I searched because I stopped caring about how and why, and just relished in the gift itself.  Hearing her say that brought back all of those questions, and I sat there, breathing heavy, recovering, and using that as time to compose a response to her.

“Let’s just say that I was given a gift and I have a plan.  I’m new the new and improved Meghan.” I said, trying not to sound evil.  I somehow assumed Meghan’s body and decided to live her life, and not only that, improve it.  Furthermore, I had no intention of giving it back to her.  That alone was evil, but I continued to justify it to myself.  I did miss her at times, but I was having so much fun being her, I rarely thought about it.

“Based on what I’ve seen today, I’m impressed with the new Meghan and I can’t wait to see more.” Michelle said.  As the words came out of her mouth, she slid her hand over mine and gently caressed my leg in the process.   Her eyes lit up as I glanced up at her.

“Did she just make a pass at me?” I thought to myself, not at all offended by the notion.  Michelle was quite attractive and was obviously physically fit being a personal trainer.  She was about 24, small, standing maybe 5’3” and maybe weighed 105 lbs.  She had blond hair that ran just above her shoulders and nice tan skin.  Being so fit, she was not as curvy as me, but instead had a very tight ass and hips and was a smaller B cup bra size.  She was probably a little firecracker in bed I thought.

With a slightly embarrassed looking on my face, all I could reply was “Thanks.  Hopefully you will.”  After saying that, I thought she would interpret it as a positive response to her pass at me, and although unintentional, I was glad I left the option open.  The feelings I had been experiencing lately reacting to men and women had me on edge, and I knew all the attention and desire I had been receiving lately was building up inside of me, and the thought of wanting sex was hitting its breaking point.

Finishing the workout just as strongly as I started it, I kept my mind focused on the workout, but once it came time to cool down and stretch, my mind kept wandering to Michelle’s comments about the old Meghan’s happiness and concern over mine.  I kept wondering how that played into this change, or if it did at all. 

Eventually, I put it behind me and continued my cool down stretch and my attention drew to my body.  God, I loved being in this body.  I slowly stretched, carefully inspecting every inch of it.  I loved how I looked and felt in my new outfit.  My tan skin was glowing from the workout, and with the outfit, there was plenty of skin to see.   Staring in the mirror admiring myself, I was glad I was in the corner and could not be easily seen.  My vanity was obvious, and I was curious how I was so turned on by my own body.  I began massaging my legs, starting at my calves as I was sitting on the mat in front of the mirror and began watching myself in the mirror performing the act.  Before I knew it I found myself sitting upright “indian style”, massaging my inner thighs as I stretched them.  The view of myself doing such an act made my pussy very wet, and I instinctually bit my lower lip a little, absorbing the view as well as the feeling.
 
Quickly, memories of that special night’s fantasy came back, and I was imaging Meghan sitting shotgun on top of me, rocking those hips and biting her bottom lip slightly in anticipation of an orgasm.   Coming back to reality, I realized a man was starting his approach.

Although I was pretty sure he hadn’t seen me, I was trying to hide how turned on I was.   My whole body felt sensitive to the touch, so I tried to be still.  As the man approached, he lifted up his shirt to wipe his face and I caught a glimpse of his abs.  Damn, they were sexy.  He was built, athletic, but not a muscle head.  Strong shoulders and a powerful chest sat on top of those nice abs. He had short spikey black hair and chiseled face.  My heart began to race my sensitivity increased and my pussy became wetter trying to imagine what his cock looked like behind his shorts.

As he sat down a few feet next to me, he looked over at me and nodded with a smile.  I felt like a little kid, embarrassed and not knowing what to say.  As he stretched along side of me, my confidence restored, and I decided to have fun with the situation. 

Meghan’s yoga classes had helped her flexibility, so I decided to show it off to this man.  Starting off in a split down the middle, I could watch him out of the corner of my eyes trying to get a good view.   Trying to figure out what to do next, and not knowing much yoga, I stood up and keeping my legs straight, I bent down and was able to wrap my hands down my ankles.  Tilting just a bit to the side, I could see his cock getting a little stiff as he was pretending to do sit-ups.  This was fun.

As I finished stretching, I began to fantasize about him fucking me, and I gave in to thoughts of sucking on his cock, and how it would taste.  I was amazed that the thought did not disgust me and I did not care at all about feeling gay, I was a woman after all.  I wondered what it would be like to watch him put his cock in me for the first time, or have him fondle my breasts and suck on my nipples.  When the fantasy was almost too tempting, I realized I just couldn’t do that to my old self.  Just then, it hit me.  I needed to take this gift and not only treasure it myself, but help my old self enjoy it as well.
 
Deciding I had enough and was on the verge of cheating on my old self, I got up and began walking back to the locker room to get my things, but not before I gave a smile to the man and observed a throbbing cock from behind his shorts.