Update from New York. About Ashley (previously identified as Auburn Girl). Here’s [Part I](https://www.reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/4e1tfi/the_power_of_curiosity_part_1_lesmast/) from last week in case you missed it.
If you don’t want to read a bored graduate student’s pedantic account of a hot girl at the gym, you probably don’t need to read Part I. Here, I’ll summarize it for you with some added details so this post is more entertaining: I’m a 24-year-old woman studying international development (don’t ask me why) in NYC; I have black hair, which I’m told is pretty but is more of a pain in my ass than I think is really worth it; I’m a 32C; and finally, I love working out, especially now that I’ve discovered Ashley at the gym, who’s officially caused me to question my previously concrete sexual orientation by making me wet with her mere presence. Normally I’d do myself a bit more justice, but those attributes about define me these days.
In preparation for our gym session on Sunday afternoon, I took the extreme optimist’s approach. I showered, used a coconut-scented body wash, shaved my legs and pussy meticulously, and opted for yoga pants and a grey tank top. When I walked into the gym, she wasn’t there yet, so I took to the StairMaster to warm up for the back workout we’d agreed to start with deadlifts. Oh yeah, this was going to be our fourth workout together. The previous three had been on weeknights, and since Ashley works late at the hospital (NYU Langone Medical Center, in case you’re interested in useless details), I hadn’t tried to suggest anything.
But Sunday was different. Ashley had Monday and Tuesday off, and I had class at 2pm and 4pm, respectively, so I was hoping for a different outcome. And that’s exactly what I got.
After about 5 minutes of walking up the magically elongating staircase, I felt a tap on my thigh. I pulled out my earbuds and looked down. And there she was. A symmetrical, tanned face, full lips and white teeth showing through a wide smile, bright blue eyes, perky tits, and that amazing ass I’d be admiring during every deadlift rep.
Admire I did. I’ll skip the boring details, like the exact workout we did (but it was a great one, so if you’re interested let me know and I’ll lay it out for you), and get right to the relevant stuff. It was hard to focus on the weights. As Ashley deadlifted, her face contorted and she groaned softly, arching her neck, flattening her back, and pushing her ass out tantalizingly, in a fashion very reminiscent of a girl orgasming while riding something. Like a face. I wanted to drop to the gym floor, grab her hips, and bury myself in her. I didn’t, for a series of mysterious reasons, but I did quiver with excitement and get my underwear uncomfortably wet.
“That was awesome,” I told her at the end of the workout as we sipped on some like-bogus BCAAs-infused water. “You lift more than a lot of the guys here.”
Ashley laughed and pulled her bag from the locker. “People think you need a lot of testosterone to lift, or that girls will blow up if they lift. Ha. Who needs testosterone?”
*Damn right*, I thought, “The real question is, who needs this line?” I said, watching her breasts jiggle beneath her shirt. There was quite literally a small queue for the shower.
“Yeah. No way am I waiting in that.”
“You can just shower at my place if you want. It’s three blocks away.” The words came out of my mouth seemingly of their own accord. My stomach contorted.
Ashley cocked her head. Then she *smiled*. “That would be awesome, actually. My apartment’s 30 minutes from here. It’s only convenient during the week when I come here before a shift at the hospital. Sure you don’t mind, Marissa? Maybe we can grab dinner or something”
*I know what I want for dinner*. “Of course I don’t mind! Let’s go.”
* * *
I let Ashley shower first. I was being a gentlewoman, you see. I’ve realized something; it’s not the man’s job to be chivalrous. It’s the wooer’s job. The interested party is the one who must cater to the interesting party’s pleasure, whether the ultimate goal is receiving a blowjob, having a wild one-night stand, or in my case, pleasuring a beautiful woman with my tongue. Forever.
You know what?
Ashley left the door open. Not wide open, but open enough that the two-foot gap let me catch glimpses in the mirror of her clothes coming off. Soon, though, the damn steam fogged up the mirror and all I could do was imagine rivulets running down her body, carving channels through the soapy suds she’d probably lathered everywhere. But was the open door also an open invitation? I didn’t know, and I didn’t really want to make a brazen assumption and walk into the bathroom. What if she yelped and clapped her hands over her nakedness?
You might say I pussied out.
Speaking of pussies, mine was soaked at this point. I took my shirt and pants off and tossed them in the laundry basket. I’d absolutely be getting off in the bathroom, whether by vibrator or (hopefully) Ashley’s tongue. Such pent-up horniness is something no person, woman or man, should have to endure. If you’re ever feeling that way, as in so turned on that your breaths are short and don’t seem to provide enough oxygen and you throb below the belt and all your muscles clench and unclench and you literally tremble with pent-up passion, then *please*, take care of yourself. Go have an orgasm. Pump your load off while you watch an actress pretend to enjoy getting drilled. Or finger yourself while reading some erotica (I’m just catering to statistics here).
One word of caution — if you’re feeling that way now (presumptuous, I know), then keep reading before you do. Hold off a tad longer. I’m hoping some of you might be able to vicariously experience the eighth natural wonder of the world, otherwise known as Ashley’s body.
Ashley exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped loosely around herself. Her hair hung in wet tendrils. I moaned internally. She made eye contact. “Hey, that was amazing. I just realized I don’t have a change of clothes, though.”
I took the plunge. “Oh, true. But you don’t need them now, anyway. Just borrow some of mine when you go home later.” Then I smiled and went to the bathroom, leaving the door halfway open. I turned the water on, left my sports bra and panties crumpled on the tile, and moved under the water. I caressed my breasts, pinched the nipples and felt them harden immediately, kept the left hand fondling while the right slid down past my stomach until its fingertips met that warm wetness…
A rush of cooler, less steamy bathroom air washed over my back as Ashley stepped into the tub. “Mind if I join you?” she purred. But she wasn’t looking for an answer, and stepped close to my back, running her hands up my ribcage until they cupped the underside of my tits. Her nipples tickled my skin.
Shivers broke out across my body. Moaning, I let my arms snake back and around, grabbing her ass and pulling her against me without turning around. “No,I most certainly don’t.”
“I think you’re clean enough.” She turned my head and kissed me with those juicy lips, and our tongues started probing.
I shut the water, and Ashley stepped out. Her body glistened in spots where the water had found its way around me. She looked like a goddess. Quite literally — like the embodiment of Aphrodite. I’ve never seen tits so heavy and round — definitely larger than my (admittedly very nice) 32Cs — with rose-colored nipples and throwing long shadows over her faint six-pack abs. “You should towel off before we get on your bed.”
Dutifully, I whipped a towel from the rack and rubbed myself down. Halfway through, Ashley leaned against the counter and raised a foot to the toilet rim. Her top teeth pulled against her bottom lip, and she pulled on her pussy lips with long fingers. I toweled more vigorously, now working on my hair. Meanwhile, Ashley worked on her pussy, spreading her own wetness, pinching and rolling one moment, slipping inside the next, but getting faster all the while.
I threw the towel onto the floor. “That’s my job.” I kissed her fully then, grabbed her hand (still wet with her own juices), and then pulled her to my bed. “Down. No, not your back. On your stomach.”
Ashley didn’t say a word but did exactly as I said. She pulled a pillow from in front of her and slid it under her hips. I took a moment to admire the sight: her thick auburn hair coiled on the quilt around her head, her bent knees and raised hips pushing her ass into the air, her patient stillness as she waited for my touch. I could see the round cheeks curving together, the darker tissue around her asshole, the glistening lips of her pussy that looked like a delicious piece of fruit, sweeter than heaven. I thought about her deadlifting earlier, about the painful longing I’d felt and how I’d wanted nothing more than to bury my face in her ass.
I buried my face in her ass.
My arms slid under her legs and around her hips until my hands could grip the top of her ass cheeks and spread them apart. My nose fit perfectly in the crevice of her asshole, leaving my lips and chin pressed against her pussy. Already she was starting to cover me in her own lube.
Before that moment, the only pussy I’d ever smelled was my own. I’d fingered myself, obviously, but I think the only way to know what a pussy *really* smells like is to either have your face in it or be in the vicinity while it’s getting fucked. The best way to get a space to smell like pure sex is to have a long fuck in a car. The old steam-up-the windows routine. I’d fucked my boyfriend from college in his car once. We lay the rear seats down and I got on my side, raised one leg, and let him go to down after he made me cum with his tongue. To his credit, he was amazing. He varied the tempo, sometimes pounding me with a primal ferocity that made my tits jiggle on my chest and the car on its suspension, sometimes slowing to a gentler, smoother pace, sometimes withdrawing slowly and then thrusting his hips forward. But most of all, I remember the smell. The smell of pussy. It was so overpowering I was sure I’d be leaving a wake of pussy vapors behind me as I walked around later that day. Fortunately I’ve always smelled fantastic.
Anyway, back to the important stuff. Ashley smelled even better than I do. I attacked her, almost desperately, licking her from clit to asshole and back, pushing my tongue past the lips and swirling it around her slit, pulling her cheeks apart and squeezing them tightly to expose every possible square centimeter of her body. I moved my face around, letting her pussy glide over my nose, my forehead, my chin, covering myself in a layer of pure Ashley. I let go with my hands, letting her ass cheeks spring back together around my face, pushing forward between them. As much as I wanted to *consume* her, I think I wanted her to consume me more. She quite literally couldn’t give me enough of her pussy. I wanted to be enveloped by it. To smell it, and only it, and touch it, to be inside of it.
She came in a few minutes, crying out in an ecstasy so wild I wanted it to last forever. She started to turn around, but I pinned her down, keeping my tongue still on her suddenly oversensitive clit.
“You. Are. Amazing.” She panted the words softly, and I could barely hear them from down where I was.
Instead of responding, I let my tongue start moving again. Slowly and gently. But steadily faster and faster. She came again, twitching and spasming, and still I didn’t let up. When she came a third time, she told me it was almost too much, that it was so pleasurable it was painful, so I let her turn over onto her back. Her fourth orgasm came as I sucked on her clit, fingered her and found that mythical g-spot, and squeezed her tender nipples.
I don’t think Ashely had ever had a partner so eager to please her. She fell asleep after I kissed her up and down, sprawled on my bed with her legs still spread wide. I let her sleep for about half an hour, forcing myself not to break out the vibrator, and when I couldn’t take it anymore, I faced her feet and mounted her still-sleeping face. She woke when her nose entered my pussy and my tongue started licking hers. How long we stayed like that, trembling and moaning and almost crying from the stimulation, I don’t really remember. But I do remember cumming more than three times.
I also remember Ashley casually bringing up the idea of buying a strap-on. There may be more updates yet to come.