Every week was always similar, but never the same. She’d go to work. So would I. I’d go to the gym. So would she. But she’d go to kick-boxing class for 7, whereas I’d save my energy by doing an easy 400-metre lap in the swimming pool. I’d be done before her, get dressed and meet her in the now-abandoned classrooms at the back of the leisure centre. Our tryst room.
Once inside, I’d throw down my kit-bag, and wait, fully dressed for the approaching foot-steps. As sure as sunrise they would quickly arrive. Tentative, and a soft, I’d hear the squeaking of trainers approach. As they neared. I’d tense, getting ready, and as soon as the door opened, despite my urges to just *pin* her to the wall, I’d always stop just shy to marvel at her beauty: sweat-drenched body, that musky smell, hair tied into a neat bun, breathing heavily, bruised legs from the training session, garish purple shorts, yet, every bit, *the*, most irresistible girl, in this whole damn facility. With my body inches away from hers, and holding on to her sticky arms, I’d take a deep breathe, inhale her scent, as she tensed, eased, and allowed my lips to softly kiss hers. My index finger supporting her chin whilst she’d stare into my eyes, and we’ve kiss again. This time hard. With passion. Her hands coddling the back of my head and neck, as I intertwined my fingers with hers, pressing her arms out wide and into the wall.
In a moment she’d find herself, lose herself to the present and quickly unbutton my shirt. My hands would now stretch across her back, supporting her lower back as I lifted her, pushed her with my hips, and supported her aching body against the wall. In seconds my shirt would be off, and her infatuated fingers would find themselves unbuckling my belt with haste, all whilst our tongues danced rapidly, our breaths deepened, and the first moans escaped our lips, floating out like smoke on cold night air.
“Please.” She’d beg. Whilst fumbling with my belt, hands unsteady — partly through sore muscles, and partly through rescinding control to being pinned. “Please, give it to me. I need it.” She’d plead.
In a well-practiced manoeuvre; I’d dip my legs, shift her weight on to my hips, taking an arm around her lower back, and laying her gently down on to the desk. She’d acquiesce all control to me as I deftly unzipped her sports-bra, hungrily fed on her breasts, and slipped my infatuated fingers below her shorts. Her fuzz would envelop my fingers as I darted quick circles around her clit, staring at her as her back arched, and I curled two fingers inside her.
It didn’t take long to make her quiver. Feel her thighs close and *squeeze* around my hand as she hit that peak of exaltation. I’d take those same fingers inside her mouth, let her suck and then slowly work my tongue inside her whilst she basked in the after-glow. Her legs would lightly wrap around me as my lips explored her delicate neck – ever so softly kissing her glistening skin, as my nostrils filled with her flowery scent.
“Please,” she say after a few minutes, “again.”
I’d oblige.
Both hands reaching down, I’d *yank* off her shorts, before talking my time on the ascent. My lips would work in tandem with my tongue – bouncing from one sore leg to the other, from fibula to calf, I’d kiss, I’d caress, I’d massage, I’d be liberal, delicate, careful, but *always* titillate.
“Thank you, Sir.”
Followed by more moaning as I neared her thighs. Two firm hands *squeezing* and massaging ahead of my lips, I could already see her wetness, and almost taste it from half-way down her thighs. She was drenched. For me. Only for me. *All* for me. I’d bounce my lips the full way up her legs, before teasing around her labia. Taking my own lips, I’d grab and unfold her, easing her legs out wide as I kissed the top of her clit – never hard to start with, just a soft kiss, enough to wet my lips, and whet my appetite.
“Please,” she’d beg again. “Please, I want it. I want *you,* please Sir.” All through strained breaths as she writhed in anticipation.
I’d rise to meet her, then hold her hand and lead it down to my crotch. With both of my hands pinned to the sides of her shoulders, I’d stare at her as she quickly unzipped my trousers, and took my bulging cock inside her small hands. She’d stroke it quickly, before placing it at her wet lips and waiting for me to initiate that first, *slow,* tantalising, push…
Only the tip of my cock would enter, before I’d retract. But that was enough for her. She’d wilt, holding my cock and push me inside her again. Again, I’d pull back. Teasing her.
“Please, Sir. Give it to me. Please. I want you inside me.”
And with that, I’d lean down, kiss her collar, neck, cheek, brush my stubble against her and then moan into her ear: “Cum for me.”
“In three… I’d push a third of my cock inside. And out. She’d exhale deeply.
“Two…” I’d push halfway inside. She’d half-scream now. And out.
“One.” With this I’d pull back and then *smash* a hard thrust inside her. Filling her tightness up completely and keeping my full cock inside.
“Cum for me *now!*” I’d demand as pre-cum trickled inside her. And then. With the mixing of our juices. With the meeting of our bodies. She’d wilt, moan, scream, tilt her head upwards and let ecstacy *take* her. I’d stay inside her but rock my hips back-and-forth very slightly, enhancing the pleasure she felt inside, by tickling the walls of her with my cock, and she’d react with her eyes rolling back, as her orgasm lasted just those *few* seconds longer.
“Thank you, Sir. Again. Please. One more time. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me fucking hard, Sir.”
I’d oblige.
I’d wrap both hands around the back of her neck. As she stared deep into my eyes.
“Harder, Sir.”
I’d rock my hips inside her. She stared. Never breaking eye contact, but her breathing betrayed her stoicism. Her breaths would get shallower, then deeper, before reaching a heightened mix of the two as I rammed myself inside her. She’d rub her clit, as she got closer. Always looking into my eyes as I forced her neck upward, staring into me as she got closer, as *I* got closer.
“Your turn, Sir.” She’d instruct. “Cum for *me,* Sir.”
I’d oblige.
With my breath rapidly increasing, I’d quicken the pace of my hips. She’d squeeze that gorgeous, wet, *warm,* cunt around my thick cock and I’d succumb to her. I’d moan, I’d sigh, and just as I painted her red walls white, with thick streams of silvery cum, she too would explode with me. In unison we’d moan and scream, she’d reach up, I’d support her, she’d kiss me, we’d taste each other’s moans, tongues, and get lost in each other’s bodies, minds, souls.
Minutes would pass as our exhausted bodies recovered.
And then we’d dress. Leave hand-in-hand. And wait for next week.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/4rlhif/after_the_workout_straight_light_bdsm_mf