Quoted By:
And with that, she left. Not back to the barracks, but you didn’t care. You crept back to your room, which you discovered had a working lock on the door, and soon let sleep take you. You awoke in the evening, the sun was already set, and so you decided to shower off, before going to get another bite to eat. The men’s shower was practically a closet, with only one bay, but it was privacy enough. You changed into some leisurewear you had found in your trunk. Simple navy blue shorts and a t-shirt, you put them on and went to dinner.
After finding a place to sit, you noticed that, even though the dining hall was more populated than it was in the late morning, the other crews still opted to sit away from you. Even a solo test pilot didn’t dare to make your acquaintance, taking an empty table next to you. You ambled through a meal, trying to get it down as quickly as possible. Whenever you looked around, eyes met you that quickly tried looking away, feigning innocence. It was hard to keep composure. Eventually, you got out of there, eager to leave.
>After that, you decided to get a bit of exercise in, and stay on your toes for the flight tomorrow.
The gym was remarkable. You could try anything you felt like, but stuck to the things you had at home. Unlike the cafeteria, the gym was sparsely populated, and any women nearby were more focused on themselves than you. It was nice, you felt you finally had a place other than your room to relax. An hour went by in the blink of an eye, having lost yourself in the free weights and a barbell rack. You ended things with a short run, and turned to leave.
As you drank from the water fountain, you heard a clamor behind you as a pack of mechanics entered. Still in their coveralls, they rolled them down to reveal tight-fitting sports bras running down most of their torso. They hadn’t noticed you, and you were just about to slip through the door when you bumped into a straggler. You let out a slight wheeze, the woman catching and stopping all of your momentum.
When you looked up, a freckled, messy-haired brunette with grease stains held you, aweing for a moment before letting you go. You remembered her, the mechanic from that morning. “Hey, Manfred!”
She was in a state of lighter dress to match her compatriots, her thick arms and chest left unsuppressed by anything but her own bra. Heeled black work boots only gave her more height over you. A gentle giant, if anything. “O-oh, hi Rika, what’s going on?”
“Oh, nothing much. Me and some of the girls over there-” She noticed you looking, and her expression only brightened. She turned to the side to clear the walkway, gesturing a thumb at the others, already starting their workouts. A few noticed you, flexing and turning to show their curves in an obvious attempt to steal your attention from Rika. Trying to keep your face from fully blooming, you turned back and met her smile with one of your own.
