She stood there, breathless, sweat running off her face and dripping down the front of her soaked shirt. Was she breathless from the workout, or was it because of who she was working out with? She took a moment and looked him over.

He’d finally broken a sweat, but he wasn’t nearly as winded as she was. She noticed as she watched him closer that he was breathing heavily. But why? Could he feel the tension, or was it all in her mind? Was he looking her over the same way she was looking at him?

Still catching her breath and wiping her face, neck, and chest with a towel, she let her mind wander. It wandered to his sweaty body against hers, up against a wall, pinning her there as his hands ravaged her body: searching, exploring, wildly taking her all in with just his touch. She shook her head and wiped the image from her mind. Focus, focus. Now is not the time or the place.

She knew there were possibilities, and some growing comfort as well as sexual tension between them, but it wasn’t her place to make the move. Besides, did he really look at her that way, or was it all just playful flirtation? He was so hard to get close to, so hard to read. He had a wife and family and was devoted to them all.

But it was his wife who’d told her it was okay—that she wouldn’t mind if her husband decided to let something develop between the two of them.

She was baffled, confused and frustrated. That’s why she was fighting, to relieve some frustration. She couldn’t do much else with him, but this was one thing she could do that they both enjoyed.

His voice startled her, coming from right behind her. “Are you ready?” He spoke in a deep, quiet, yet commanding tone.

She jumped, but composed herself quickly, hoping he didn’t notice. “Of course, let’s go.”

They walked back into the center of the garage, a makeshift fighting arena (formerly a spare bedroom) and squared off, swords at the ready. She locked eyes with him, then caught herself and watched his chest, remembering what he told her about the eyes being a distraction. His attack was sudden and quick; for every shot she blocked, he landed two more.

She resolved to turn her frustration into aggression and focus it on her target, him. If she couldn’t have him, she’d beat him, or at least try. She tried to stand her ground and not let his advances back her up. She tried to advance on him, but for every step forward, she took two steps back. For every blow she landed on him, he landed three on her.

She was fiercely focused, trying to take out her aggressions, trying to learn, and only getting more frustrated in the process.

Thud. Her body stopped as she ran into the cement wall of the garage. It felt cool against her hot, sweaty body. Quickly she raised her sword in front of her as a defense, trying to protect as much of herself as possible, while trying to defend herself from his blows. In seconds, he was on top of her, blocking any way she had to escape. Their swords crossed in between them and he quickly overpowered her, pinning her hand against the wall. Her sword fell to the floor. She brought her free hand up to defend herself and quickly found it pinned against the wall as well. Her legs were spread wide in a fighter’s stance. His thigh wedged between hers, blocking her from kicking. Their eyes locked–victor and opponent, sizing each other up in the heat of battle. She struggled uselessly against him.

His voice rang out through her frustration. “Are you going to stop struggling?”

Instantly she noticed how close he really was. Their eyes locked as her body responded to his closeness. His sweat mingled with hers as it fell, his breath warm and quick on her neck as he spoke to her. She started to struggle again, this time hoping that if she did so he might remain here, close to her for just a minute longer.

With a strength and quickness she never realized he had, she suddenly found her arms folded and pinned behind her, her own body weight keeping her defenseless. Now she was more open and vulnerable than just a moment before. Still locked in his gaze, she dared him with her eyes, secretly hoping for him to do something.

He moved the full weight of his body upon her. Then he leaned in and let her hair down, softly running his hands through her hair. He stopped and grabbed a handful of her hair, not pulling or painful, but forceful and controlling. She sharply inhaled and froze, chest out, head back, fully realizing she was his to command. Instantly she longed for skin, she longed to feel his naked flesh against hers.

Their eyes locked again, faces centimeters apart, lips only a hair’s breadth apart. Energy, permission, wants, needs, and desires all passed between them in that gaze. She was lost in that gaze, lost in his eyes. For the first time, she saw him completely unguarded.

She looked upon his soul.

And as she looked upon it, in all of its darkness and lightness, she was carried away as he leaned in and melted her defenses with a kiss. The kiss was soft and lingering, as two souls and spirits became one. She could feel the tension and frustration flow from their bodies as she opened herself up to his kiss. All of the tension between them swept away in an instant. All of her frustration was gone.

Suddenly passion–fierce, hungry, and demanding–replaced it.

His hands hungrily searched her body, feeling and caressing all of its folds and crevasses. They were searching for something, looking, tearing until they found their target: skin–smooth, soft, sweaty, sweet skin. He shifted his weight, keeping her pinned but freeing her arms so that he could rip off her shirt and bra in one fluid motion.

She tore the shirt from his body, fingers sinking into his skin as she did. As soon as he was free from his shirt, she found herself pinned against the cool concrete wall again. The feel of skin against skin only turned up the heat and made things hotter. Passion, lust, and sheer animal magnetism lit up the room. Everything else was burned away, leaving only their two bodies in the center of a red-hot fire.

His tongue found her neck and traced steamy lines across it. Instinctively she responded by embracing him, her nails tracing red pathways down his back. All the while, heat was pouring from her pussy, as the tingle of excitement started to grow stronger. His prick responded to the growing strength of their passion by pressing firmly into her leg. His tongue found her sweet spot, the one that sent shock waves of pleasure through her body. Her body arched, pressing firmer into his, as he teased and flicked his tongue over her sensitive neck. She moaned loudly, calling to him.

But she was cut off as his teeth sank into her flesh, grabbing and holding steady and firm, marking her and making her his, claiming his prize. Her nails sank deeper into his flesh as she yelped, but the pain sparked a deeper desire in her. She lunged forward and sank her teeth into his neck and shoulder. His sweat was sweet and salty in her mouth, and a low growl of pleasure rolled from her lips.

Neither could get close enough to the other, pressing their bodies firmly together, trying hard to melt together and become one. Her nails dug deep troughs down his back, as his lips found her breast and took her nipple between his teeth–biting, sucking and rolling it between his teeth–his fingers rolling and tugging on the other one simultaneously. Shock waves of pleasure coursed from her erect and firm nipples straight down to her dripping wet pussy.

She grabbed his ass, sinking her nails into it, pulling his hips even closer to hers, and shifting her hips so that his cock could find her sweet spot, even through their clothes. Instinctually he responded, thrusting his hips forward, grinding into her as she spread her legs wider and stood up on her toes so his thrusts would find their mark, rubbing her pants against her swollen clit. Indescribable sounds of pleasure echoed through the garage as his raging hard cock fought to free itself from the confines of his pants. Each thrust drove them both closer to the edge of insanity and pleasure. Biting, clawing, kissing, their hands and mouths left fiery battle scars, fueled by the heat of their passion.

In one swift movement he grabbed her hands and threw them over her head, pinning them up against the wall. She bucked wildly, desperate to have him, touch him, feel him. While his one hand kept her hands immobilized, he grabbed his pants with the other one, yanking them down and stepping out of them in one smooth motion.

His raging hard cock rejoiced at its freedom and celebrated by growing even harder and fuller. She gasped at the sight of it, her head pulling wildly, tongue licking her lips, salivating at the thought of her lips wrapping around his member, driving him wild while sucking his cock.

He stood there for a moment, reveling in her frustration. A wicked smile crossed his face as he watched her struggle. He took his free hand and started at her neck. His fingers–gently, lightly, and maddeningly slow–made their way down between her breasts. Her body froze with anticipation as his fingers continued their journey downward, stopped suddenly by the waistband of her pants. They crept beneath it, searching for something. She didn’t care what they were looking for; she was lost in the feeling of his touch. He yanked her pants down as she stepped out of them.

Both naked and free, neither would wait any more, the desire was too strong. Instinct took over as his naked body, glistening with sweat, suddenly pressed against hers, hips pinning her against the wall. He freed her hands as he grabbed her hips, lifting her off the floor. She clung to him, legs wrapping around his hips, denying him his freedom. There was no turning back now. She felt his cock raging and hard between her thighs, throbbing and aching to sink itself into her wetness.

With a strength she never knew he had, he lifted her up just a touch and held her there, suspended above his penis as its tip grazed her clit, sending her to the edge of orgasm. She growled and moaned, guttural noises of pleasure rumbling in her throat, begging to have him in her.

His lips curled with a dark smile, flashing his pointed incisors. Frantically she pulled and clawed at him, trying to gain some leverage to pull herself down on him. Suddenly, as she was trying to get at his cock, he let go and thrust with his hips all at the same time. In one swift movement, his cock filled her, reaching depths she’d never felt before. They both froze, clinging to each other, wanting to savor the moment–that feeling of being locked together, of being the perfect fit.

Then, in the next breath, he thrust again. A small rock of his hips sent powerful waves of pleasure through her body. Her back arched, her head back and her eyes closed, as his thrusts got faster and deeper. She rolled her hips in time with his, riding the high as their passions, desires, and energies joined as one. She was lost in a sea of pleasure and emotion, riding each wave as he crashed into her. Her only hold on reality was her nails, digging into his back and ass. She hung on desperately, hoping not to be swept away. But she was losing her grip. She felt it building in him, groans and growls rumbling in his throat as his orgasm built.

Suddenly she was lost, reality torn away from her as his orgasm exploded, flooding her reality and filling her body. She could no longer tell his pleasure from hers. It was all one. His thrusts hit the very center of her as he finished riding the last waves of orgasm. She clung to him, legs locked around him, lost in the feelings of satisfaction and fullness. Slowly she came back to reality, her back raw from the concrete, his fullness fading within her. He stepped back and she untangled herself and shakily stood up.

Her legs buckled under her and he quickly grabbed her, preventing her from falling to the floor. She fell into him instead, head on his chest, and listened to his heartbeat. It reminded her she was still alive, centering her back within herself. As she stood there, head on his chest, she started slowly, casually running her fingers up his chest and through chest hair. Her fingers ran over his nipples, and his body responded. Her hunger not satisfied, she ran her fingers over his other nipple this time, rolling and pinching it a bit. This time his body responded more. Her tongue snaked its way across his chest, searching for its target. It flicked gently, lightly, teasingly over it, dancing around it in circles.

Moans escaped his lips as his eyes closed in enjoyment. Her lips locked around his nipple and sucked harder, as her finger played with his other nipple. He leaned down and latched onto her neck. She responded instantly the same way. Not as fierce as before, but just as firm. She started to feel his cock grow hard again as it pressed between her legs.

He looked down at her questioningly, and the look of hunger in her eyes told him it was going to be a long night.

Without a word she walked away and headed toward the door upstairs. Speechless, he stood there. She looked over her shoulder and flippantly said, “Are you coming?”

Without skipping a beat and grinning all the while he said, “Not yet.”

Disappearing up the stairs she said, “I can fix that problem.”

He was right behind her, hands grabbing at her ass as they went upstairs. In the living room, they stood and kissed, a deep, passionate kiss that resonated through her body. Feeling the hunger she still felt, she pushed him back onto the sofa and dropped to her knees between his legs. She looked hungrily at his cock, but was determined to wait, if even for a moment. She leaned in, her body pressed full against his.

She felt his cock growing against her as she worked on his neck, watching, gauging his reaction, making mental notes of what drove him wild. She’d find a button and push it just to see to how far she could push him. She wanted to figure out exactly where his edge was–and see if she could she push it back a bit. She slid down to his chest, his prick hard between her tits. Exploring all of the wonderful places there, she moved to one of his nipples. As she did so, she brushed his dick with her tits. Mutual shock waves ran through their bodies. She couldn’t wait any longer; she had to have his cock in her mouth and have it now.

She got on her knees, naked in front of him. This is a position she was seldom in and rarely wanted to be in. But now her desire to please, tease, and control him obliterated all of her past hesitations. She knelt there and watched him as she ran her nails up and down his inner thighs, making pale track marks on his skin as she touched everywhere but his most sensitive parts. Occasionally she would haphazardly dance her fingers over his balls and delight in his reaction. She leaned in, so her breath would caress his hardened prick. Her soft lips grazed his cock. His breath caught in his throat. A low growl of frustration escaped him, and she giggled to herself, pleased at her control and torture of him.

She wrapped her hands around his prick, feeling every inch of his shaft, memorizing his reactions as she ran her hand up and down his shaft. She found a spot at the base of his shaft, right by his balls, that with the right amount of pressure made him go wild. As she played with that spot, she wrapped her lips around the top of his shaft–her tongue dancing around his head, just under the rim, across the top. Her tongue danced furiously around his prick while one hand stroked his shaft and the other massaged his balls. He was growling wild, hips bucking and arching in time with her strokes.

When he reached out and grabbed her head, firmly but not forcefully, she froze, stopped mid stroke, grabbing his hands and putting them down by his side. “Let me tell you how this works. You touch me, I stop. Your hands move at all, I stop, got it?”

“Yes,” he moaned.

She could tell when she’d stopped that he’d been seconds away from coming. And that, right now, wasn’t her goal. She didn’t mean to torture him; it was just a fun side effect. She wanted to learn his body, every inch of it, to learn what buttons to push to drive him wild, and just how far she could really push him before he pushed back. As she was pondering this, he was moaning and arching his hips trying to make contact, seemingly desperate to come. She looked at him with a wicked twinkle in her eye and said, “Now where was I? Oh my, I don’t remember. My memory is so horrible. I guess I’ll have to start all over.”

He growled, but his eyes gave him away. He was enjoying this as much as she was.

And so she began again, this time playing with his nipples as her tongue explored his balls. This time, with just a bit of nails and a touch of teeth, his response was strong. Her nails explored his chest, her teeth nipping just a touch. When she finally got back to his engorged and throbbing prick, she didn’t play with it, but took as much as she could in her mouth in one swallow.

She grabbed his balls and sucked and stroked–stronger and faster than before. He went wild, body thrashing, head back eyes rolled up into his skull. She felt his hands flinch, but they never moved. She tasted his precum and lapped it up, savoring its sweet but slightly salty flavor. She knew she only had moments left before he came. So she slowed down her pace, but not the pressure. He growled in frustration.

One of her hands released his balls and started exploring his ass, tracing lightly around his hole. He jumped in surprise as she applied a bit of pressure, testing the entrance, but his prick didn’t lie. It drove him nuts. She continued the game, pushing and exploring his depths, taking him again just to the edge, but never over.

By this time, she was sopping wet, and her pussy was aching. New plan. She grabbed him and pulled him off the sofa and onto the floor. She maneuvered him around till he was stretched out. Then she knelt over him, her wet pussy just brushing the top of his prick. He tried thrusting his hips up so that he could enter her, but she was quicker.

Leaning into him, nibbling on his ear, she lowered herself back onto his prick, its head just touching her opening and whispered, “Is this what you want?”

“Yes,” he growled.

She lowered herself just a bit, so that only his head was in her, and there she hovered, with his nails sanding her back in frustration. She arched her back and momentarily lost control, dropping down, his full length filling her, reaching places within her that hadn’t been reached in many years. She threw her head back, crying out with pleasure as his nails continued to make tracks down her back. And then she rode him, taking slow strokes, savoring the feeling of his long hard length moving within her.

His hands found her ass, grabbing her checks, spreading, pulling exploring. She quickened her pace just a bit as she felt her orgasm starting to build. But she wasn’t ready to end it just yet. She reached around and grabbed his balls, fondling, massaging, and raking ever so gently. That was enough to send him over the edge. She rode him hard and he grabbed onto her, refusing to let her slow down or stop. His warmth filled her body, and she responded with a powerful orgasm of her own. Her screams of pleasure reverberated through the house.

The neighbors three doors down heard them.

She collapsed on top of him–spent, but very, very satisfied–not moving, just enjoying the fullness still inside her. A few minutes went by in silence as they both came slowly back to reality, still enjoying the afterglow. Their bodies, battered and sore, bore marks of the pleasure they had just enjoyed–claiming each other as their own, marking their respective territory. She slid off slowly, reluctantly laying on the floor beside him. Saying nothing, for fear of losing the moment, she took the chance to imprint the experience deeply in her memory.

She expected nothing, accepting the potential that this might just be a one-time thing. She lay there silently as this thought tumbled through her mind.

His voice startled her and brought her back to reality. “I should be going soon, but I hope you enjoyed yourself just now, cause next time it’s my turn and I’m in control.”

She simply smiled and said, “I’m waiting.”

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