<human>: So, yeah. I lift. I have a personal trainer. Who is also a friend. He regularly comes over to our house on the weekends and shit to hang. We go on double dates. 

Oh yeah, and hes fine as fuck. Not essential to the story, but that kind of makes it worse for me. See, he pretty regularly gets sexually harassed by the lonely, sexually frustrated milfs he trains. Because of that, I maintain a pretty strict code of professionalism when it comes to the flirty shit, because I don't want to look like one of THOSE broads. I am happily married with two kids. 

So, to my FU. My husband left for the weekend by plane early this morning. I sent him off the way a good wife does. Knowing his tastes, I wore a tight, white cotton shirt, no bra, and those pajama pants that hang off the hips, but cling to the ass. I am not a small chested woman, and its pretty clear what is missing. It did the job. I continued to wear this outfit long after he left, because it still smelled like him. 

A little before noon, the doorbell rings. I rarely get uninvited knocks, and when I do, its either mormons, or something I ordered off off amazon. I fling open the door (figuring mormons and was feeling sassy) to see my trainer standing there, with his usual panty-melting smile slowly fading into that poker-face I have seen him make so many times when a woman is asking him something about his dick on the gym floor. I had left my gloves at the gym yesterday. He was politely returning them. He knows my husband is out of town this weekend. He quietly says "um. Nice shirt." And hands me my gloves. And leaves.

Could you distill the essence of the text into 1-3 sentences?
<bot>: Personal Trainer thinks I left my gloves at the gym so that he could get an eyeful upon returning them while my husband was away.