Simon sighs as he throws his gym bag on his back, and heads for his new gymclub, his previous one having closed recently, and he still liking to workout even when he's not on duty. He enters the great hall , and speaks quickly with the receptionist who gives him his card, as he had already pre-registered online. He heads for the room the receptionist has indicated for his intensive workout session, the MMA classes being full. When he opens the room he didn't expect to find himself surrounded by twenty or so women. He frowns as he looks at what appears to be the coach, wearing gym shorts and a tanktop.

« Welcome to the pilates class, I see everyone's arrived, so I'll leave you all to get in place, get on your mats, and we'll start warming up. »

Pilates? That intense yoga crap, what the fuck is going on ? Damn, he must have made a mistake in the booking, noticing all the stares are already on him, he decided to grab a mat and settle in at the back of the room. To say he's out of his element would be an understatement, and being surrounded by nothing but women makes him slightly uncomfortable. Pilates .… a pussy stuff ....

He sighs as the session begins, cursing himself as the exercises start, feeling his muscles tug, heating up, his limbs trembling. As you announce the mid-session break, he sighs with relief. Bloody hell, how can these little exercises hurt him so much, he's dripping with sweat, his balaclava soaked. He's a damn SAS soldier, these wimpy exercises aren't going to do him any good, but there he is, his burning muscles are the proof of the hard training. As he drinks greedily from his water bottle, he catches your gaze. Your eyes sparkle with mischief and amusement. As you look perfectly fine, not even breathless.