After baking two pies on Wednesday night as my contribution to the Thanksgiving dinner, I later met friends at our local neighborhood watering hole for a few libations. As a true lover of the reverse cow girl position, I straddled an available bar stool appropriately, and sat back and drank a few beers; had some laughs and sing-along sessions. Yeah, it’s just just that kind of place. Before too long, this erotica-story telling Cinderella was late getting home and she slept right through her usual Thursday morning excercise class.
She found a parking spot close to the park’s North/East entrance. She pulled her blonde, gloriously thick, straight, hair into a ponytail. She wore very little makeup; she didn’t have to. She was blessed with an oval face, naturally flushed, high cheekbones, a small button nose, genuine red-stained pouty lips and luminous, bluish-green eyes.
The rain immediately stopped pummeling her head, but above, against the metal roof, it reverberated. She noticed his expressive, crystal, blue eyes and rugged good looks. His sandy-blond hair was shorter on the sides than the two inches at the top of his head and rain drops gathered at the tips; dripping into creases around his eyes; cascading onto his weather-chapped cheeks and chiseled jaw line. His nose was long, almost beak-like, but it suited him well.
“I think I may have pulled something in my leg,” his deep, husky voice responded. His black running pants clung to well-defined muscles.
They had both jogged the same path many times before, but never before had they been still long enough to meet. Amanda had admired Ken’s butt and nothing else – until now.
“How far were you going today?” He asked.
“My goal was not to freeze to death.” She replied, wiping the rain from her face.
“I’ve been training for the marathon,” he said.
“Oh yeah? Me too.” She replied.
“Maybe we could run together sometime…er..of course, after I’m walking again,” he said chuckling.
“Is he flirting with me?” Her thoughts raced. “I could run back and get my car and come back for you.” She offered.
“I appreciate that. I called my brother just before you found me and left him a message.” Lifting his cellular phone.
“Oh, well you’re all set then,” she replied, getting up. His hand touched the top of her knee, gently pushing her back down; she felt the cold cement seeping through her pants and shivered. “He is flirting!” She thought.
“Ken.” He said introducing himself. His thoughts raced: “I’m recently divorced; feeling lonely and really horny. God…you’ve got a great ass and nice tits….”
“Amanda.” She responded shaking his hand, thinking: “I’m recovering from a break-up; feeling lonely. You’re hot.”
With sudden boldness he kissed her. Their cold lips touched; pulled back and touched again; grazing and seeking the warmth from the other. Amanda could feel the iciness in her body dissipate. A fiery, hot ember ignited inside her; lighting her body’s pilot light.
Ken pulled the zipper to her jacket down and reached his hands inside. His hands were cold and under her jog bra; clasping her breasts; skimming her erect nipples. She moaned; felt her crotch become juicy, wet. Ambitiously, she moved her hands under his clothes and pushed past the elastic band of his jogging pants. She looked down at his groin; his cock bulged against the confines of his pants. He moved his fingers into the front of her jogging pants; under her panties, caressing the softness of her hair and the cleft leading to her clit; sliding his fingers up and down.
“That feels good.” She sighed.
Her hand pushed deeper inside his pants; fingers stroked the mushroom-head and shaft. He bucked his hips. His fingers inched toward the opening of her pussy; dipped them inside, removed them and then sucked her nectar from his finger-tips. “Hmmm…sweet, just how I thought you’d taste.”
She wriggled his pants down until the elastic waist-top was around his sinewy, muscular thighs. His exposed hard cock curved, like a banana; bending toward him. Amanda ran her tongue down every inch of his cock; moving her lips upward, circling each curve, like the road she had been running on. Ken thrusted his hips toward the warm, wet friction of her mouth. She pulled her pants down and struggled to get them over her running shoes.
“Ooooh,” she moaned and their bodies exploded and quivered; furiously pulsating.
She heard his cellular phone ringing. “Bet the brother’s on his way,” She thought, lifting herself off of his cock; reaching for her pants. In the distance, headlights flickered against the wetly paved road just ahead.
“Can we give you a ride?” Ken asked.
“I think I just got off one,” she said grinning.
“How about your number then?” He pleaded.
She pulled the hood from her coat over her head as Ken punched her digits into his phone and she stepped back into the rain, moving a little slower than before; reflecting on what just happened; smiling and making her way back to her car.
Hi Neve,
Sounds like a perfect Thanksgiving! I went for a run this morning & after reading your juicy tale thought maybe I was in for a treat. Oh well! It always feels good to get out an move.
Hi!
I hope you had a wonderful T-giving day, K.
You ran too? I think buddy running is a good idea. Agree?
Now that’s a work out.
Well done!
Hi Craig,
I hope you’re enjoying your holiday weekend.
I’m in edit mode. I guess we’re always in edit mode for one thing or another, huh?
Thanks for your comment.
Hi Again,
Buddy running is always fun! Today it was just me and Fido, but he’s great — never complains and he loves being out on the trails.
Spamword is PRIDE. How ’bout that!!
–KM
K,
I hear ya. I miss running with a Fido. It’s truly a mutual appreciative run for both, isn’t? Dogs are so happy to be outside, they actually smile. We women runners, well, we’re so happy to have Fido running along side of us; protecting us from the bad guys.
p.s. Great spam word. Mine is Virreves. Why does that remind me of virus? I don’t have the sniffles. I don’t have the sniffles.
Don’t have the sniffles! Yeah, Fido does seem to smile when he’s trotting along — or when he’s hanging his head out of the window on his other favorite activity — car ride! No sniffles!
You’re right KM. These are not sniffles. These are re-write jitters centered in my sinus cavity (sniff and smile).
p.s. I love to see doggies hanging there heads out the windows of cars. Happy, happy!
“Can we give you a ride?” Ken asked.
“I think I just got off one,” she said grinning.
Hahaha. Nicely done!
And—it's true! it's true!—the spamwords are turning into real words. Night of the Spamwords. [Cue theramin.]
By the way, I also love the title of this post, Neve! I tried doing “Jeremy Edwards Friday,” but it just didn’t have the same ring to it. ; )
Hmm … my spamword is elsgonst. Okay, so maybe I was a little hasty with that Night of the Spamwords stuff. (Take five, theramin … don’t call us, we’ll call you … this way to the egress … not all plates increase in value, etc.)
Jeremy,
You could always change your last name to Black on Black Friday. Jeremy Black Friday. See? It worked! haha.
Thank you for the kind words, JE. I try, boy, do I try for your wit and charm with words, but…like I’ve said before, I want to be you in my next life….No rush though. I don’t want you going anywhere. I like having you in my world now.
Love the spam. Not to be confused with the meat in the can though. OhmiGod…did I just stumble upon a new erotic story? Spam language and it’s meat? Oh, never mind.
You’re so sweet, Neve!!
You could always change your last name to Black on Black Friday. Jeremy Black Friday. See? It worked!
[Thunderous applause from the audience. "Amazing!!" "How did she do that??" "Hey, Mabel, you gonna finish that popcorn?"]
Excellent—please ink me in for next year. With Black ink, naturally.