Flowy Athletic Shorts Novels & Stories

With a little bit of wriggling, I slid it on. Just like in the store, it fits perfectly. The feminine flounce at the neckline makes it kind of look like I have boobs worth noticing, and the shorts don’t pinch or hit at the dreaded mom-short length. I might actually look cute. I twist in the mirror a couple of times. Okay, yeah. I can wear this.

That afternoon she went to the mall and picked up some new shoes, running shorts and a few athletic tops to wear for her new hobby. She knew she had to find apparel that would suitably cover and support her curvy body, especially during exercise. This was something she always kept in the back of her mind. The shorts needed to be relatively small around her waist, but long enough to actually cover her oversized butt. She settled for some that were a little too big around the waist, but at least made it to the curve where her legs met her cheeks; as long as she didn't bend over at all.

FINLEY She’s the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. My heart skips a few beats, then pounds erratically as my gaze rakes over her body. Judging by what we’ve heard so far, I know she must be Annalise. She’s wearing a sports bra and running shorts that leave little to the imagination. I’ll gladly wrap those toned legs that go on for days around my hips as I pumped myself into her. Her breasts are the perfect size to fit into my large hands. Most likely about to shift and go out for a hunt. As all the girls are wearing the same attire and the guys behind them are wearing gym shorts.

They were loose cargo shorts that weren’t doing a great job of hiding my erection. I saw the other couple come out of the video aisles with a movie tucked under his arm. He was tall and thin—looked like a runner—and she was athletic as well, but more solidly built. She had blonde hair and wore a sports bra and running shorts. He wore some sweatpants and a long t-shirt.

After he had asked me to lay low. I snapped out of my thoughts, pulling on my clothes for combat classes that were neatly folded on my bed. The trousers were black, and it had an elastic band that fit around the waist flaring exaggerating round the hips downwards, then it fit right around my ankles, several fabrics clung from the waist downward, giving you this exaggerated illusion that you were going what exactly you ought to be doing, adding extra flare to your moment. The top was made of a shimmery silver with black embroidery stitched to the flare sleeves, and stopped mid stomach. My hair fell in ringlets down my back.

I wish I could take a peek into his mind, just for a moment, just long enough to know what he’s thinking. He’s dressed in navy blue athletic shorts that are a smidge too short for him, resting midthigh and showing off his insanely built muscular legs. His tan skin gleams in the sunlight poking through the somewhat shredded canopy above us, which is supposed to block out not only the sun, but the rain.

she mutters as I stride out to the gym, where half the guys are already dressed and shooting hoops off in the corner. "Mrs Price," I sigh. "I forgot my shorts." She frowns at me. "You're still participating." "I know. I didn't do this on purpose," I huff, trying not to show how frustrated and grumpy I am. "I've given out most of the spare shorts already," she tells me as she sorts through what is left. "Will these fit?" I take the shorts and scowl as it says extra small. "Going to be a tight fit."

I chuck on my clothes and smear some toothpaste on my toothbrush. “Bathrooms free!” I yell while brushing my teeth. Ben comes rushing past me and I chuckle as I hear his pleasurable sigh as he empties his bladder. I spit the foam in the sink in the living room and get back to my room to put on some underwear and change the clothes I am wearing for a matching workout set. It’s mustard yellow and accentuates my curves with how it’s shaped. The sports bra has a v shaped neckline, an open back and reaches halfway down my ribcage. The shorts are tight, high-waisted and reach down just below my bum. I chuck on my black and green trainers and put on a bit of mascara.

I pull on a tiny sports bra that’s more cleavage than coverage, the kind that squeezes my breasts together until they look sinful. Then I put on leggings so tight they’re basically an invitation as they cling to every curve, hugging my hips, molding to my ass, and outlining the dip between my thighs. My hair goes up into a messy ponytail. I look like I’m about to do yoga… in hell. I head upstairs slowly, careful to keep my footsteps quiet until I’m standing in the doorway of the home gym. There he is. He’s got his back to me, wearing nothing but black workout shorts that hang low on his hips, the waistband soaked with sweat.