I failed my university's mandatory physical education class, but I didn't want to go for the training. Uncle Grant came and helped me, but I only did a few squats, and I could already feel my chest hurting so much. I fell right into Uncle Grant's arms, and I said, "No, I can't do this, Uncle Grant… Do you have any sports bras…?"

My uncle's breathing became rapid, and he said, "Let me help you, Carmen."

I didn't expect that the way he helped me was to use his hands to correct my posture from the front. As he squatted alongside me, it was only getting faster…

My name is Carmen Smith, and I had just started my freshman year in university. With my innocent face and standout curves, I was voted as campus beauty.

But lately, a rumor had been spreading. It claimed I was easy, always hanging out with a bunch of bald old men.

The details made it sound almost real. I couldn't explain myself, and I didn't even dare go to compulsory physical education classes anymore. That was because too many boys would circle me, staring and calling me Milk Bags.

"Look at Milk Bags running like that. Who is she trying to seduce?"

"I heard she serves several sugar daddies in one night. She's really something."

Some young men even teamed up to block my way, talking in a mocking tone. "How much for one night? We can give you some business."

Hands on me without a second thought was nothing. To make matters worse, they would crowd in and push me to the center, their warm bodies right up against me. That made my skin crawl.

My waist and stomach were already sensitive, and the heat and pressure made it even harder to bear.

I could only clamp my legs together and grit my teeth to get through it.

I was lucky that time. Uncle Grant happened to be on campus for work, saw what was happening halfway through, and drove them off.

After that, whenever I had physical education on the outdoor track, I would only dare to show up right on the dot.

The university's group physical education exam came and went, and because I hadn't trained at all, I failed it.

I didn't dare sign up for the retake, so I just hid in my rental apartment, pretending not to see or know anything.

When Uncle Grant heard about it, he came to find me at the apartment. "Carmen, you can't go on like this. Don't be scared, I'll help you."

Uncle Grant was my dad's friend. After my parents died in a car accident five years ago, he was the one who paid for my education. He lived alone, and we leaned on each other.

I buried my head under the blanket in silent protest. Uncle Grant simply flipped the blanket back and pulled me up.

In the struggle, my nightdress rode up. My long legs were exposed, and the hem barely covered the edge of my pink lace panties.

His breath, hot and close, brushed over my chest. The wide neckline hardly covered my breasts, and my skin turned pink in an instant.

For a second, Uncle Grant's pupils darkened. There was a wild, hungry look in his eyes, like he wanted to devour me. He came back to himself quickly, shot a flustered look toward the window, and said, "Hiding won't solve anything. You have to face it."

He walked to the wardrobe and then took out my workout clothes. He then handed them to me. "Get changed. Come train with me at the gym."

Looking at the thick biceps on his arms and his V-shaped torso, I suddenly felt that training with Uncle Grant might not be so bad. He had been working out for years. Helping me pass a basic physical test should be easy for him.

But when I pulled on the tight yoga outfit, Uncle Grant looked at my body wrapped up in that fabric and swallowed hard with a frown. "Forget it. Let's just train at home."

I didn't understand why the change of heart, but I agreed anyway.

On the yoga mat, Uncle Grant started by teaching me how to do squats.

I couldn't find my balance, so he stood close behind me, guiding me hands-on. "Sit back, like you're lowering yourself onto a chair."

I leaned back against his solid chest, and I felt the hard lines of his abs. For a short while, my mind was racing with thoughts. When I sat back, I accidentally sat in between his legs, sensing something large behind me.

I was feeling a little numb from it, tears immediately welling in my eyes.

Uncle Grant thought I was crying, so he asked me softly, "Carmen, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Uncle Grant," I mumbled in embarrassment, hiding in my arms as my earlobes turned red when I felt his warm breath enter my ears.

"Good. Then let's keep going. We need to warm up first. If your muscles are too stiff, you'll get hurt." I straightened up out of his arms and started doing jumping jacks and high knees as he told me to.

But every time I jumped, the heavy weight on my chest pulled up and down, making it especially uncomfortable.

Uncle Grant had bought me the yoga outfit, but it hadn't occurred to him that I needed a proper sports bra.

I panted hard and pushed myself to keep going.

Still, he never called for me to stop.

When I glanced up, I saw his eyes glued to my chest, just like those young men at university. Not to mention his bulge was becoming even more apparent.

Shame washed over me. I stopped, braced my hands on my thighs, and tried to steady my breathing.

His gaze slid down along my neckline again. With his height, he could definitely see everything.

Embarrassed, I covered my chest. "Uncle Grant, it feels uncomfortable."

Only then did he snap out of it. His rough hand closed around my arm. "Carmen, what's wrong?"

I took the chance to slump into his arms to rest, a little tired, looking up at him with shy eyes. "Uncle Grant, I... might need a sports bra."

He finally got it. "Oh, right, I forgot! We'll go buy one later. But what about the rest of the training?"

Uncle Grant was the sort of man who finished anything he started.

He thought for a second and said, "How about this? I'll support you so you can finish the exercises."

He stepped closer and held my breasts with both hands, trying to take some of the weight off my chest so that the movements wouldn't hurt so much. "Give it a try."

I jumped a few times, and it really did feel easier than before.

He held me carefully, as if he were afraid of hurting me, his palms only lightly pressing.

Even so, the friction made a strange tingling sensation spread from my chest down to my stomach.

I suddenly remembered the adult videos my best friend had secretly sent me, those videos about what happened between men and women.

My legs went weak, and I slumped back into Uncle Grant's arms. His hands kept working to steady me, guiding my upper body and helping me find my balance. The sensation was dizzying. No one had ever touched me like this before.

It was itchy, restless, like something deep inside me was waking up. For one second, I felt an intense craving for warmth to fully embrace me.

Seeing me go soft in his arms, Uncle Grant was clearly affected, too. His body felt even hotter than before, his breathing low and heavy as he hugged me tighter, pressing me against his chest as he continued to correct my movements.

His eyes had a dazed, unfocused look. His hands slid lower as he tried to help with my lower body posture, tugging at the edge of my tight yoga pants, revealing my thong underwear.

"Carmen, let me help you finish today's training, alright?" His voice was hoarse.

When I opened my mouth, what came out was a breathy little pant.

"Then… We'll stop working so much on your upper body and focus on your legs and hips." Uncle Grant's gaze was dark as he said that. He wrapped one arm around my waist and used the other to support me from behind, lifting me up and lowering me down…

It was unbearably embarrassing, but it also felt intolerably good. He moved faster and faster, his hands tight on my body…

My whole body shook until I trembled, and I finally went limp against him. Uncle Grant gave a quick kiss on my cheek instead. "Good girl, Carmen. You did great. This is a very good form of training, you know."

"But Uncle Grant, I feel like I have no strength left at all. Does this really help?" I asked in a small voice.

He paused. His hand, still resting on my hip, shifted slightly forward, and I shivered. He then said, "Carmen, pay attention to your body. Try moving your legs now."

A muffled sound escaped my throat as I instinctively clamped his hand between my thighs together...

"Carmen, does it feel uncomfortable?" he asked.

I flushed and shook my head.

"See. You're already much better than before. You've never really been close to men, so your body is too sensitive. That's why you freeze up and panic when those young men surround you. Now, I'm increasing the amount of contact and training. Once you get used to it, what happened at university and the physical education tests will be nothing for you," Uncle Grant said.

It sounded reasonable, so I nodded.

After that, Uncle Grant went out to buy me a proper sports bra, saying that we could add another set of training later.

But my whole body felt sweaty, so I hurried to take a shower first.

I was still in the bathroom when Uncle Grant's good friend, Larry, came in. He was whistling as he headed for the toilet, his zipper already half open.

He stopped short when he saw me through the steam. His eyes fixed far too boldly on my upper body.

"Carmen, why are you showering in the middle of the day? How about you let me help you scrub your back?" he joked, his hand already reaching out. But before his hand could touch me, Uncle Grant grabbed him and dragged him back out. It seemed like Uncle Grant had returned right after Larry came in.

"Out," Uncle Grant snapped.

He then quickly tossed the new sports bra in through the gap in the door and left in a hurry. I quickly finished my shower and changed into a clean set of clothes.

Since the yoga outfit was soaked, I had to settle for a T-shirt and shorts.

When Larry heard what we were planning for the next set, he insisted on helping too. "I'll train Carmen as well," he said.

He was also an old friend of my dad's. He was in great shape and worked as a coach at a gym. So, I ended up standing between two muscular men.

Uncle Grant took his place behind me again, guiding my squats, his hands firm on my waist. He told me to sit back against his thigh if I were going to lose my balance.

After two squats, my legs were already burning, and I couldn't help but collapse fully onto his leg. The heat of his legs made my knees feel even weaker.

Seeing this, Larry moved closer from the front and pressed a hand against my chest to adjust my posture.

"Don't hunch," he said. Using the excuse of correcting my form, he kept shifting and nudging my shoulders and upper body. However, his hands never stopped testing me.

My mind felt foggy as my whole body burned. The two of them moved closer and closer until I was completely trapped between them, sandwiched from both sides.

At some point, soft, breathless moans started leaking out of my throat. And my legs, held by their rough hands, couldn't stop trembling and shifting…

"Uncle Grant, hot…" I murmured, my voice sticky and sweet like honey as I reached back to grab his arm and rub my cheek against his shoulder.

In the struggle, my T-shirt rode up, exposing my two bouncy breasts.

Larry's eyes went red as he slid an arm around my shoulders and leaned in closer. "Don't hunch. Open your chest," he said.

I lifted my chest on instinct, and he bent his head, his lips brushing dangerously close as he began to suckle…

Behind me, I could also feel Uncle Grant becoming tense, as if even he was on the edge of losing control of himself. His hands reached down toward the waistband of my shorts, and he jerked my underwear.

"Come on, Carmen. You won't feel hot after you remove it..."