A Workout

Three minutes to go. Sweat poured down her body, the rhythmic motion left her in an almost hypnotic state. It had been so long. She always liked the slow start, the gradual build-up, the brief sprints and the languid slow downs as she caught her breath. But she was tired now, the minutes ticked away and she had to hold on just to keep at it, to keep moving, her muscles sore, tightening up.

Finally, the program ended and she hit the button. The treadmill slowed and then stopped, and she got off, feeling beat, but energized. It had been so long since she had such a grueling workout, but in the 40 minutes she had managed to sneak away from the hubby and kids, she made the most of it.

She wiped the sweat off her face with the towel, headed upstairs for a long shower. The kids' rooms were dark—one was sleeping, the other saying last goodnights one last time for the fifth or sixth time. Quickly, she slipped into the bedroom, locked the door behind her to prevent unwanted intruders, stripped out of her sweatpants and shirt, and grabbed a quick peek at her body in the mirror. It had been shaping up quite nicely. Her hubby loved it anyway—he could barely keep his hands off her. She pulled off the sports bra, setting free her stimulated breasts, her nipples tingling slightly from the friction of the workout, rising to attention in the cool air of the bathroom.

It was sometime in the middle of soaping up—she couldn't remember when, perhaps her as she rubbed her ass or her calves or her feet—when she thought "Damn!" Her vibe, out of reach now, would have come in so handy. The warm water coursed down her body, washing away the soap and sweat. She felt stimulated but hungry. Nudging the faucet handle slightly, she cooled the water to try to take the edge off this sudden endorphin-fueled lust, but the shock of the chill caught her by surprise, producing even more of a shocking, stimulating effect, and she quickly finished the shower. She knew she had a brief window of opportunity to take care of matters, and that there was something in that old shoe box under the bed that she could use about now.

Hurriedly, she dried, not very thoroughly really, and slipped into her robe. In her delicates drawer, she fished around the various unmentionables and found something that made her feel sexy—a breezy silk thong, which cradled her pussy like a soft hand. She pulled it on, feeling the thin strap ride up between her legs and through her crack, a gentle restraining reminder that felt both connecting and liberating. The crotch piece dampened, and she couldn't tell for sure whether it was her own wetness or her hasty drying job that made it so. She walked to the bed, dropped to a knee and extracted the objects of her desire, one in each hand.

It was always a hard choice, picking the right tool for the job. There were those days when she felt businesslike, almost Japanese, preferring the slim sleek smoothness of a prim little leopard torpedo, with its laser beam focus on the task at hand. The brisk workout, the whole petite and feminine feel of the thong—she could go for that smooth snappy kind of orgasm now, quickly and sharply. But then there were nights like tonight, when she also craved something bigger, gnarlier really, something that could throw a little stretch and variety into the mix. She tossed them both on the bed, wishing she didn't have to choose.

Dropping her robe, she laid down on her stomach on the bed. Screw it, she thought, her hand finding the angled thickness of the chili pepper, dialing it on to a strong vibe. Tonight I feel a little more slutty than prissy.

She worked the vibe down to her thong, raising it up to permit entrance to the warming space between her legs, resting it outside against the silk, the vibe so strong that it may as well have been inside for all the power it was delivering to her swollen clit. She pulled up, the feeling so tense, then went back down for more as a blissful numbing worked its way from her feet up her legs. After a minute of the undulating motion of her hips, there was no mistaking the wetness that penetrated the thong as anything other than her own. She ground her teeth unconsciously, gritting as each slow pelvic revolution brought her spiraling closer to fulfillment. Deftly, she slipped the angled tip inside the thong, pushing the material to the side, grazing her swollen lips along the way, letting them envelop the shaft. Her hips arched and she traded the vibe head for tail so that it could penetrate her more easily, coming in from behind, sliding in an inch to where the tip arched against her g-spot, like a finger motioning "come here" against the cushy, swollen pad inside her. Neglecting her clit entirely, she worked this spot until that deeper craving and sensation came, a warmth, as if all the blood in her body had concentrated in her pelvis and torso, producing a sense of being hugged from the inside.

It was almost too much—she had teased herself too much and now she wanted more. She slid the chili in until she felt herself stretch, until she felt full, but it still wasn't enough. Her free hand found her nipple, still rock hard and still sensitive from the chafing workout. She pinched it—tight—and thrust down on the vibe suddenly and simultaneously, picturing in her mind a thick cock filling her and possessing her. She moaned audibly—something she almost never did, this vocalization, and kept bearing down on the vibe last it was the last cock in the world. She wanted to pull it out, suck it, take it down her throat while the other one filled her pussy, both ends occupied at once, just to be used and completely and utterly fucked, the two sides of her, giving and taking, simultaneously satisfied, but as it was, this deep penetration and pinching pain was feeling so good she couldn't stop.

Suddenly, she felt the edge of the bed depress slightly, and she paused for a moment. I locked the door, she thought, what the--then she remembered and relaxed. It wasn't one of the kids, because they couldn't work those locks. He must have unlocked the door when I was moaning and I didn't hear it. Fuck it, she thought. If he wants a show, he can have one.

She raised her ass in the air to tease him, to offer it to him, and she felt his hand meet it. She wanted him to slap it, to possess her and make her his own, but he would never do that. He just stroked it, spread her ass cheeks and watched as she took the vibe deeper and deeper, over and over again. He kissed her ass and she felt his stubble rough on the smooth skin of her hips, his hair brushing her butt and then her thighs as he kissed her calves.

She pulled the vibe out slightly, working the g-spot again and bearing back down so that some of the vibration echoed out to her clit. She felt his hands on her ass, massaging, caressing her back. She heard something. The other vibe. He had turned it on and was running it down her back, between her shoulder blades, down her spine, to the small of her back, a distracting massage when all her attention was elsewhere. She tossed her hair back over her ear and looked back at him kneeling behind her.

Taking the other vibe, he laid it lengthwise between her cheeks, the stronger vibrations racing outward like waves through her buttocks, like two hands grabbing her. She felt that slutty urge take over again, put her head back down, and arched her back to give maneuvering room for the chili to enter her fully. As she raised her ass again, she met the firm resistance of her leopard vibe bearing down on her crack, a sudden intensity of feeling that pulsated in a wave from the pink star of her anus through her perineum to meet the reciprocal waves of vibration and sensation from the chili vibe that was now buried so deeply inside her, like ripples meeting and merging in a pond were these two sensations, blurred in a kind of sensation that was electrifying.

"I need your cock," she said to him. "I need to suck it." She turned suddenly, crosswise on the bed, still on her hands and knees, the chili vibe never dropping from her. He stood next to the bed and she took him in her mouth. He dropped the vibe as she turned, and she took him out of her mouth long enough to say "Put it back there again."

She didn't need a hand for the chili any longer, it was in her so snugly, wedged in and filling her. He reached over her back, set the leopard vibe back between her cheeks, again like a hotdog in a bun, he thought, but his lame observation jolted from his mind as soon as he placed it there as she began working on his cock like crazy, like the first time she had sucked it and he knew she liked sucking cock because of how wet she was when he felt her. He pressed and rocked the vibe on her, leaning forward, then jolting back as she worked his throbbing cock with her wet hungry mouth and slick hand.

He began to come, but held off, his hand grabbing her hair still wet from the shower, slowing the pace. He could sense she was close too.

"Turn around," he said. "Now."

She obeyed, raising her ass to him at the edge of the bed, withdrawing the chili and letting the leopard vibe fall aside, offering herself fully to him. He pulled aside her thong, slipping his cock, still glistening from her blowjob, inside her wetness. She gasped—the texture and feel of his cock was so different from the chili, yet not that different—and grabbed the chili pepper again. She would be damned if he was just going to fuck her from behind and leave her begging. She took the vibe and worked it against her clit, meeting the rhythm of his thrusts, and this was a new sensation, the friction and fullness inside her with this intense constancy of vibration on the outside. For his part, he could feel that subtle tickle transmitted through her against the bottom base of his cock when he was fully penetrated. What he noticed more was the gasping, moaning she was making, so much stimulation at once. He grabbed her hips to guide the rhythm and felt her textures against his sensitive cock, pulling out with each thrust as far as he dare to get that sensation of the ridged head of his cock entering her depths, feeling the gentle rub of the thong's silky material as he pulled back out with each stroke.

She needed something more. Dropping the chili again, she fumbled in the dark for the leopard vibe as he kept pounding away. She hoped he wouldn't come anytime soon, it was all feeling too good. Shit, she should have sucked him off to orgasm earlier so he could last longer right now. Reaching back, she handed him the leopard vibe and said "Put that back there again."

He took it with his right hand, not letting go of her hip with his left, not missing a stroke, and set it between her cheeks. Her back arched and it slid down to where she could feel it lengthwise being pressed between his lower belly and her ass, this kind of full pelvic stimulation.

Just one more piece, she thought. She grabbed the chili, put it hard against her clit, and it was all going on at once—the thong, the clit, his cock slamming into her, the other vibe sending shocks through her from behind. God, she thought, I need a mirror right now, or a camera, and she pictured him behind her, eyes closed in bliss, trying to hold off, and herself all consumed fully, mouth agape in ecstasy, and then she couldn't hold off, she was almost weeping now at how good this felt. "Slap my ass!" she commanded breathily and he swatted it gently and she thought you dumb fucker but only said "Harder!" and this time he obliged and at that sharp report of his hand she came hard and completely, and she felt his hands tighten on her hips and take control as he finished too, and as they thrust together, each vying for that finishing stroke, it was like they were locked in mortal combat for control of her pelvis. It was all she could do to keep from begging him to come on her ass, on her back, on whatever he wanted, but he was locked in and lusting and filled her with his cum.

She collapsed on the bed, completely numb, not even noticing the vibes were still on, feeling him crumpled, exhausted and panting on top of her, on her back, his hand finding her breast, cupping it, as he nuzzled her neck.

They drifted off to sleep like that until later, how long she didn't know, when an erotic dream woke her up, and the vibes droned on, front and back, and she felt ready for more.

"Are you awake?" she whispered, feeling his slow breathing on her neck.

He didn't say a word. He didn't have to. She felt his hardening cock encroaching on her again, pressing against her ass, waking from its slumber.