“Hey!” Eric grabbed her right hand. “It’s muscle, Cindy. That’s all it is! Just fat and muscle.” He wrapped her fingers around his arm. “Muscle.” He placed her hand over his chest. “Muscle.” Around his leg. “Muscle. Over his groin. “Muscle. That’s all we humans are. Fucking bone, muscle, and fat. The idea here is to get more muscle than fat. I can’t tell a fucking thing about your chest if I can’t feel your tits, see what the condition of your underlying muscle is. From the quick feel I got, it looks like you’ve got some decent pecs under all that mammary fat.”

He released her hand. Cindy stared at him but said nothing.

Quietly, Eric said, “I probably should have warned you. I’m used to people who know the routine. You want to try again?”

“I would really feel more comfortable if this was being done by a girl.”

“Get used to guys, Cindy. ’Bout ninety-eight percent of our clientele is guys. And just for your info, ’bout a third of them are gay. They don’t give a shit what’s between your legs. Like I said, to a dedicated builder, it’s all muscle.”

“Are you gay?” Cindy asked.

“No,” Eric answered. “But I’ll say yes if it’ll make you feel better. Will you relax?”

“It’s difficult.”

“Just go with the flow. Lift your arms up.”

Cindy wondered if Marge had ever been in a situation like this. Of all the dumb things she’d ever tried to pull off, this had to be one of the dumbest. But she was here already. She lifted her arms.

Again Eric snaked his massive limbs around her body. Each arm must have weighed fifty pounds. Again she felt his hands on her breasts and involuntarily flinched.

“Just take it easy,” Eric said, “you’re doing fine.”

After a moment, it was clear to Cindy that old Eric was telling the truth. He was feeling her breasts, but it wasn’t sexual.

“See…right there,” Eric stated. “That’s where the fat of your tits ends and where your underlying pecs are. Did you ever do lifting before, Cindy?”

“No.”

“You’ve got good raw material.” He let go of her breasts, then measured across her bust. It took him twenty minutes to finish charting her body, recording the inches of her waist and hips and thighs. When he was done, he said, “Good raw material. I’d like to take you through the first month myself. You want to set up some dates?”

“Can I call you on it?”

Eric gave her a disgusted look. “Are you committed or what?”