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As she rocks up to her early morning boxing class, local corporate hotshot Anna Fawkner [32] comes to the unpleasant realisation that she’s forgotten to bring a crucial component for her workout.

She’s left her fucking boxing gloves at home, and too add insult to injury, she knows exactly where as well. In fact, she’d reminded herself several times last night to pick them off her wardrobe floor.

Fuck. 

Unfortunately, that means Anna has no other option but to ransack the shelf of complimentary boxing gloves provided by the gym, which both appear to have not been washed in at least several weeks, and freshly marinated with sweat from the class before her.

Immediately hit with a smell that is best described as a mix of sour vinegar and fermented asshole as she rifles through the rack for the newest looking pair, Anna settles on a pair of blue ones and tries to vomit as she slowly slips her hands into the warm, wet crevice.

More to come.

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