Bombay Mixx

Bombay Mixx - Chapter Three - Part Seven

Anya nodded and continued to eat her salad as though she hadn’t just told us some surprising news.

Not content with the summary she gave us, we grilled Anya for more details and we found out; Tiziana was a 35 year old escort, who (like her men) has expensive taste and will stop at nothing to get what she wants.

Anya encountered Tiziana a few years ago when the ladies were sitting in a famous hotel lounge and approached the same man. The man was very happy to have the two ladies attention and suggested they both continue the conversation in his room, to which Anya declined and Tiziana accepted, along with another lady sat at the other side of him and they went their separate ways. ‘I work alone,’ protested Anya as the story seemed to bring back infuriating memories and she seemed to get more agitated before the narrative came to an end.

No one dared to press Anya with more questions and we all hurried to change the subject to the proposed engagement party until I decided to head to bed to get a fresh start at the gym.

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Surprisingly, there were quite a few people building up a sweat on the machines, as I stared around the room checking out the equipment to see which one would cause me minimal pain; ‘the running machine’ I thought as I headed towards the huge windows they stood in front of. ‘Have you been here before?’ a middle-aged muscular man asked dressed in a vest and tracksuit top. ‘I’ve just signed up today,’ I replied as I started walking on the machine hoping he would go away.

Although he was muscular and seemed to look like he came here every day, he had a neon orange tan, jet black hair, which looked badly dyed and an odour which suggested he had been working out for the past few hours without getting a shower.

As I mastered the, ‘breathing through my mouth’ routine, he didn’t get the message and continued, ‘you don’t look like you need the gym.’ The compliment was not greatly received and as I had a flash of him trying this line on every new lady, I retorted, ‘yeah, thanks’.

After a few silent moments, he got the message and went to bother two blondes in Lycra who just walked through the doors.

After 10 minutes constantly increasing the speed, I managed to get to a fast jog, with a militant sweat on, so I decided it was time to get off and have a break.

However, I forgot to push the emergency stop button and kept pressing the slow down button.

I tried to jump off but I didn’t jump far enough, lost my balance whilst one foot remained on the machine, one foot went to the left, one foot was on the machine and I did the splits.

The only problem was I couldn’t do the splits, until now and the scream that came out proved it.

The receptionist and a personal trainer came running over to me to see what all the commotion was about. ‘Are you ok?’ the female receptionist asked as she helped me up.

I could hear a few sniggers after I confirmed I was fine but my ego was bruised, especially when I saw the sleazy man who tried to chat me up earlier laughing at my misfortune with the two blondes. ‘Uuuurrgh, well if you’re that desperate,’ I thought as I ignored the quiet mocking and attempted a less strenuous contraption by sitting on the exercise bike.