I woke up next morning with Chris spooned into my back and his arm across my waist as he continued to sleep. Surprisingly, even though his hips were pushed against mine I couldn’t feel any erection between us. Mind you, the wild sex we’d had an hour ago as the first dawn stirred us both to semi-wakefulness might have had something to do with that.
It was time for me to get up. Normally I’m an evening shower person. But since my last shower before the ball last night I’d enjoyed a night of intense dancing and four even more intense fucks – the one against the wall at the far end of the hotel in the middle of the ball, another when we’d returned to our room, one in the middle of the night and the aforementioned morning one. I sort of had a sense a morning shower might be a good start to the day today.
After breakfast today I was going to take advantage of the hotel’s heated hotel pool and gym to let me do some more training out of the freezing Canberra winter weather, so when I got out of the shower I put on the bikini I intended to wear in the pool. It wasn’t really what you would call training swimwear – but then most of mine wasn’t. Still, maybe this one was more egregious than most of mine.
Normally I just go for string tie triangle bikinis. These pants were different in that they were very low slung tight fitting hipsters with thin strappy fixed sides. Their other departure from my normal style was that they had a vertical centre seam; running from the front, down through the crutch and up the back with the lightly constructed material gathered in so that they moulded down into both my front and back crease. That’s not normally an advantage comfort wise with swimwear. But I’d bought these to wear under my legging/ compression pants when I was both running and swimming. Since my compression pants leave absolutely nothing to the imagination in the way they mould around my bum and front, if I’m going to wear anything underneath, these swimmers leave much less of a VPL than just about anything else.
The top was a matching string tie one. Regular readers will know I’m renowned for wearing rather brief – barely adequate – ones. “Small coverage” I think is what the manufactures describe them as; and that assumes you don’t buy a size smaller than you’re meant to. This top was in something of another league again. If I tied the under-breast string tightly into the base of my breast then the triangle would only just make it over the turn of the breast; leaving my nipple sitting right in the peak of the triangle and with some areola peeking out from the side. So you sort of had to tie it to sit in the centre of the breast; not quite firmly pinned down to any point.
Really it was straight off the cover of something like Zoo magazine and normally this was too much – or maybe more to the point, too little – even for me and not really suitable for swimming in anything other than still water. But Chris had been majorly turned on by it when I’d worn it once last summer and, given I was just doing pool laps, it was actually quite comfortable while I was swimming and I wanted to give him another thrill, I’d decided to give it a run this morning; especially as he was heading home tonight and this might be our last few moments together.
So just dressed in the bikini, I walked back out into the bedroom to find Chris now awake, lying naked and uncovered on the bed on his back and watching me.
Chris opened with a simple “Good morning”
I lay on top of him; straddling his legs with mine to have his cock immediately grow up between my legs and start pushing into my crutch. you be up by now?”
“I would have thought it’s pretty obvious to you that I am”
“So you can only think about sex?”
see now. I’ve got a stunningly gorgeous, completely delightful, barely dressed woman lying on top of me with my cock between her legs. I think most guys in that situation would have their brains distracted by sexual topics.”
“So you’d like me to get off you so your brain can work properly would you?”
“I’m not in any hurry if you’re not.”
By now his arms were around me. While we were both clearly aroused there wasn’t really any sense this was going to turn into sex. We were reasonably fucked out at the moment; sexually satisfied if you want to put it more discreetly. It was more a moment of intimacy; maybe a final one.
There was a moment of hesitation in our banter.
Chris opened up again in a more serious voice. “Kate, I’ve loved spending time with you this weekend. You know the offer I made to you last summer is still open.”
It was tempting to play dumb; pretend I didn’t know what he was talking about. Not because I wanted to tease him. Because I didn’t want to admit to myself that the thought of that offer had been on my mind since I thrown my body at him about 36 hours ago. Actually if I was honest it was since I’d got his text announcing his intended presence in town a few weeks ago. It was the offer of a long distance relationship; of something more committed; even of acknowledging the budding love that added so much spice to our time together.
Part of me just wanted to say “yes, yes, let’s just give it a chance and go along for the ride”. But it wasn’t that easy. My past, specifically my parent’s divorce and its messy aftermath, gave me a phobia about committed relationships; a deep down unassailable fear of getting hurt if I opened my heart to love. Without intending to, I always sabotaged any path to real love if I let things drift in that direction, which then just resulted in a whole new world of hurt for both me and the innocent person unfortunate enough to be on the other side of the equation. And yet the happiness Greg and Karen found in each other gave me an incredible yearning to share that same sort of love.
Chris knew my problems; I’d opened my soul to him at the end of our time together at Christmas. He was understanding and willing to risk it, but I />
Now things were even more complex. I was in the middle of first year med and was feeling the pressure to focus on my study. In the best of circumstances a long distance relationship is difficult; with the complexity of my study pressure and relationship issues I still reluctantly had to come to the conclusion it was impossible. If only I could somehow put Chris on hold; some sort of suspended animation until I got my act together where I could drag him out for the odd weekend like this while still being certain another girl wasn’t going to steal his heart out from under me before I was ready for him.
But life’s not that simple. Without admitting it, that’s what I’d been doing with Greg for many years and now he was gone and taken by someone else. Chris was too nice to last long. I was surprised he’d lasted this long; even jealous to think of the girls who might have had their claws in him since last Christmas – just dying to know about them. I’d be lucky if this wasn’t the last I saw of him.
“Oh Chris. It’s so tempting, you’re such a lovely guy and I’m so attracted to you, but I can’t. With the pressure I’m under at Uni I just couldn’t even start to make it work. It kills me to think that after I say goodbye to you today you might start seeing someone else and I’ll never see you again, but it would kill me more to start something and have it all fall apart.”
Chris detected a slight loss of emotional control on my part as I spoke. If not an actually tearing up, something close to it. He stroked the hair off my forehead with a OK. I understand. I just wanted you to know.” And then he kissed me; a kiss full of beautiful intimacy, pleasure and kindness without expectation of sexual progression. Then rolling me off him onto the bed, he announced “well, if we’re going to have time for breakfast, I’d really had better get up.”
Before getting up to complete getting dressed I watched Chris’s naked butt walk away from me as he went into the bathroom for his own shower. After seeing how casually the WAGS and HAGS (husbands and guyfriends; I know it should really be HABS, but that doesn’t have the same ring, does it?) dressed at breakfast yesterday, and now understanding that the post-breakfast free yoga class meant there was likely to be a repeat today, I’d lost my rare inhibition about wearing the gym wear to breakfast. So I put on the ¾ length body-con leggings and sports crop top I usually wear in the gym over the bikini.
Yes, as is my tendency, they were a bit showy (to put it politely; I’m sure other words have been used, but I don’t care). The leggings were a pair of low waisted, tight fitting Skins ones which folded deeply into my creases and made of multiple panels of a lightweight, really stretchy almost sharkskin surfaced material. I don’t usually think of myself as someone who spends all day looking at herself in the mirror; but I’ve always liked admiring the way the pants highlight and define the individual muscles of my legs and butt.
The crop top came down to the bottom of my rib cage and moulded closely to my breasts but had a much deeper v’d neckline than is common for women’s sports tops. In providing support they were comfortable enough while not being too bad for gym use, even if they did create the optical illusion that my breasts were likely to pop out the top as they carried their momentum up as my body came down. For really serious long distance running on other days, I had a second more supportive top.
Chris’s cock had nearly blown a fuse when he saw me in them yesterday and it was no different when he came out of the bathroom today.
He couldn’t help himself; wrapping his arms around me and bending me back while having a grope and a kiss.
“Is this OK for />
Now don’t get me wrong. I don’t normally look for other people’s approval for what I wear. But this was Chris’s corporate event and his career that might be affected. And what I was wearing wouldn’t get you into the Qantas flight lounge under their new rules, even if I could get into the yoga class.
“As long as you don’t mind every guy in the breakfast room growing a boner…. Just kidding!! It’s much the same as a lot of the other girlfriends were wearing yesterday; it just looks a lot hotter on you.”
“So you’re sure?”
“What, that it looks hotter on you or that it’s OK? The answer to both questions is yes. I won’t take you to breakfast in anything else.”
Although his last statement was obviously intended to just give me confidence and settle the matter, I couldn’t help but tease him. “So you’ll only take me to breakfast if I’m looking really hot?”
“Kate, you’d be hot if you were wearing a gorilla suit onesie. So that’s an oxymoron. You are in a difficult mood aren’t you? Are you ready to go?”
At breakfast we were more or less compelled to join a community table. It was all very sociable and there was no shortage of guys desperately trying to get a chance to talk to me, but in a way I really just wanted what might be my final moments with Chris to be more intimate. Next to our table was a couple lingering over the remnants of their breakfast, each reading a paper but using that to discuss various news issues of the day. It had a lovely comfortably domestic feel to it that I found myself somewhat jealous of.
All too soon it was over. Chris’s day today was on a straight line to take him home and away from me. A day crowded with conference sessions and then a dash to the airport for the flight home. My original assumption had been that the end of breakfast would be the end of our weekend together; and maybe the last time I would ever see him.
As I walked with him back to the room so he could get his conference folder I had one last thought. “Chris, what time do you need to check out?”
“The boss booked himself a late check out – noon – why?”
“What time is the conference morning tea?”
“11. Why?’
“Well, what say I meet you in the room at morning tea? I might even be still in my gym gear. You can sort of treat me as a gift wrapped farewell present if you think my post gym BO won’t be offensive to you.”
There are some guys who just want you naked and penetrated as quickly as possible. Actually come to think of it I’m a bit in the category of get them naked quickly myself; even if the penetration can wait a bit for a good measure of foreplay.
There are others who approach sex a little more holistically; a series of stages, each to be enjoyed in its own right. For them the concept of a girl offering herself gift wrapped is pretty exciting. Each might have their own idea of while an ideal gift wrapping is – inevitably something sexy – but the thought of playing with the wrapped gift – fondling it, exploring it, slowly peeling away the layers of the wrap – can be as mind blowingly exciting as the final act. That’s not simply to objectify the girl offering herself in this way – who after all in this case is me. It’s all part of an integrated love making sequence involving both parties.
Chris was definitely in the latter category and it had been clear since I’d first put it on that the gym gear was one of his gift wrapped fantasies. Of course the BO issue was not irrelevant. It was helped by the sleeveless crop top, but not much could be done about the bottoms. And Chris’s fantasies or not, it was rare that I got to use a gym like the hotel’s one, so I definitely wanted to squeeze in a really good workout between now and 11.
I’d already decided I’d go for a swim first so that he’d find me commando in the gym gear and the sweat on my clothing would be fresh; rather than have time to go rancid (sorry to be gross, but you have to think about these things). As I’d planned it, I thought I could still have a quick shower after I’d finished to at least make my body fresh again. It seemed Chris had other ideas.
“Oh Kate. Quite apart from having one last chance to spend time with you, that would be mind- blowing.
I have fond memories from last Christmas of your sweat smelling like the sweetest perfume. Don’t even have a shower; I’m going to spend all morning completely distracted by the thought of taking you soaked in still dripping gym sweat.”
That was easy for him to say, but left me with the question of whether I had the confidence to take him at his word.
The morning passed quickly enough, apart from the hazards of a few of over optimistic HAGS and the odd conference delegate skipping sessions who, I suspect having made certain deductions from what I was wearing at breakfast, decided they might be in with a chance if they too got a sudden urge to swim and exercise. When you dress like I had it is just par for the course. It doesn’t mean they’re not nice or interesting people and don’t deserve to be dealt with politely – although it would be a lot better if they didn’t actually drool in your presence – but they were a distraction from my intention to train hard. In any case, I had other carnal distractions that morning.
As it turned out, I lost track of time and suddenly realised I was running late in getting back to the room; necessitating an undignified sprint down the length of the hotel corridor to get back to the room. If Chris had a fantasy of a girl dripping in sweat he wasn’t going to be disappointed.
I opened the door to find Chris on the bed; naked and rampant with an erection.
He got his comment in first – “I’m lucky you’re not the cleaner aren’t I?”
“That depends. You never know your luck with these things; she might be a bit of alright. Still, I seem to detect a degree of enthusiasm for my />
“Well I know you prefer me naked so I thought I’d save the time and the thought of you dripping with sweat has been a distraction all morning. Getting undressed ready for you was a turn-on in itself.”
As the door closed behind me, I held my arms out wide; presenting myself. “Is this dripping with sweat enough for you or should I do another lap of the hotel corridors?” As I could feel the sweat beading down my back it should have been enough.
By the time the latch locked he was already half way across the room towards me. As he reached me he dipped enough to let his erection slide between my legs, pressing firmly up against my crutch as he swooped me up in his arms and swung me around. “God you smell beautiful and you’re so slippery with sexy sweat I can barely hold you. Just as I’ve been fantasying about you all morning.” After the initial lift he’d let me slip down in his arms until the base of his cock was pushing deeply into my front crease, sitting against my clit while the power of his erection surged as it strongly resisted the four o’clock position it had been forced into.
We kissed as he let my feet touch the floor again and fondled a breast with a now freed hand. I in turn let one hand slide down his back to fondle his butt while the other slipped behind my back and tickled up the bell of his shaft where it struck out between my legs; producing a flood of pre-cum. In response Chris started rocking gently back and forth; arousing me with the movement of his shaft against my clit.
Bit by bit he started edging me towards the bed as we stirred up each other’s passions in that way. A moment after I felt the edge of the bed against the back of my knees Chris held me tighter against him with his arms and induced the singular entity formed by our bound together bodies to flop over onto the bed; swinging our legs around so we were laid fully out on it.
Chris has always been a ‘girl first’ sort of guy; something that makes presenting myself gift wrapped as good for me as it seems to be for him. After a bit of fondling and stroking he sensed me starting to move myself against the cock between my legs; admittedly as I was looking to ramp up my own stimulation. Taking the hint he slid a hand down the front of my pants and played with my clit while the other pulled aside the v of my sports top; since he knew I liked it, taking as much of the breast into his mouth as he could fit, caressing the flesh with his lips while he swirled my raised nipple around with his tongue.
When the hand down my pants found me commando, he tried pulling his hand out to stimulate me though the thin material of the leggings; encouraged to continue that by the little gasp of extra pleasure I let out when he first did it. As often happens when Chris starts fingering me like this, for a while it became mostly about pleasuring me. Yes I had a hand wrapped around his cock, but was too distracted to do much more than a bit a half-hearted hand movement.
It was like he couldn’t make up his mind of whether he wanted to finger me through or inside my pants; alternating while never peeling the pants off me, in the process reducing the crutch of them to a sloppy mess and all the while stimulating my nipples. All too soon he had me lifting my tightly clenched hips in an arc through the air as I sighed out a beautiful organism.
After making sure he’d extracted everything I could from the organism, Chris slipped off the bed and turned me around until my legs were over the edge; then he turned me over leaving me kneeling bent over the bed. While Chris was, like me, normally a face to face person in his lovemaking positions I figured he’d acquired a taste for doggie style (he, also like me, had no interest in anal play; so I didn’t have to feel insecure in that regard). So I was sort of ready for him to just peel my pants down and take me from behind.
But it turned out he wasn’t finished playing with the gift wrapping yet.
He bent over me, kissing me down my back until he was kissing my butt cheeks and then down the back of my leg. Maybe as fascinated by the way the pants highlighted the individual muscles of the leg as I was, his finger then lightly followed the crease between the (to put it as least technically as I can) posterior and lateral thigh muscles; tracing up this crease on the outside back of my thighs until it led to the hollow on the outside of my bum cheeks. Then he buried his face in the hollow, kissing it; repeating the whole process on each side.
I’m not a “get on with it” sort of girl. I love this sort of stuff.
Satisfied with that, he bent down between my legs, turned his head to the side and kissed up along the line of the crease between my adductor longus and gracillis muscles (which basically is on the front inside of my thighs) until he reached – well, where do you think that ends. He was seemingly unfazed by the fact the crutch of my pants was now soaked in alternate layers of exercise sweat and orgasm juices whereas I was surprised he wanted to go anywhere near it. But instead, somehow turning himself upside down and supporting the weight of his upper body with arms wrapped around my back, he stuck his head in the gap between my upper thigh and the side of the bed and buried his face there; quickly isolating my clit through the material with his lips and tongue and playing with it.
With everything of his beyond my reach, there was little I could do except lay there with my upper body sprawled out across the bed and let out little whimpers and moans of pleasure as he started stimulating me towards another orgasm. As my body responded by letting out a renewed flood of juices he sensed that starting to permeate through the pants and made little slurping noises as if he was really getting off on the whole experience.
I could tell Chris was getting more excited. No not just the noises he was making; his body was moving too. While I couldn’t see it, it was almost like he was thrusting at the air in excitement as he lay there under me. Then, even as he kept sucking at my clit, he started fumbling with the waistband of my pants; starting to pull them down.
With a climax approaching I was momentarily disappointed when his head suddenly disappeared from between my legs and I sensed him quickly kneeling behind me as he stripped my pants down to my upper thighs. The feint sound of a condom packet being opened was quickly followed by the feel of the tip of his cock between my thighs, searching out the opening to my tunnel. It was there; open and ready for him, my juices beckoning him in.
As he located it and pushed himself slowly in, his hand came around the front of my thigh and he started fingering my clit again. Slowly now he thrust in time with his finger movements; the hard tip of his cock rubbing firmly on the front wall of my tunnel. I gripped his shaft, but his movements didn’t seem to be focusing on his pleasure very much; more on mine.
He slipped his spare hand under my chest, ferreted out the lower hem of my crop top and slid his hand inside to find a breast and the enlarged hard button of a nipple crowning it; adding to my growing excitement. I’d been close to an orgasm before he’d repositioned himself. With the total assault on my erogenous zones he was now inflicting on me he soon pushed me there; waves of contractions pummelling his cock as I buried my head in the bed covers and moaned to the pleasures washing my body. Unhurried he bent his face down into my back and kissed it as his hand, fingers and cock kept up their work of prolonging my orgasm until, with a slight movement of my hips, I conveyed to him that the optimum moment for him to stop had arrived.
As I said, Chris and I were never big fans of doggie style; we were much more face to face people. Still he was penetrated and his cock was throbbing in anxious need and anticipation. I just assumed he’d finish as he was. Instead he withdrew and started pulling my pants completely off before asking me to kneel off the bed so he could easily strip my top off too. Then he induced me to stand and cuddle face to face so he could fall back onto the bed leaving me lying on the bed under him.
After he repenetrated me I had assumed he would just go for it. After all, his morning tea break was short and he’d now spent quite a while pleasuring me. He must have been ready for a good release.
But instead he just put his head down alongside mine; supporting his weight on his elbows and forearms while nuzzling the side of my face with his and stroking my cheek and hair with the fingers of the hand on the opposite side.
I once explained to Karen that I’d enjoyed hugging both her and Greg while we were all naked because it represented a form of intimacy that our bound up society rarely let us experience. Not a sexual intimacy – or mostly not anyway – just a sharing of contact between two humans. She in turn had taken it as a form of communication; saying through the contact between our bodies how important and close our friendship was and in that she was right.
I realised that is what Chris was now looking for too. His climax would represent the end of this weekend together; maybe even the end of any relationship between us. He’d get up, get dressed and go back to his conference; I’d go home and continue the paper I had to hand in Tuesday. He’d go back to Sydney and get snatched up by some other girl, I’d probably continue with the semi-monastic life the intensity of my study had made me choose.
I was in no hurry to let him go and even as his erection throbbed deep inside my body trying to stretch itself up to my cervix and the hard buttons of my nipples pushed into the flesh of his chest I was touched that the urgency of his sexual needs had been suppressed in favour of this intensely intimate moment.
I had a hand on his butt and another running my fingers through his hair when he turned his lips to my ear and whispered “I’ve had a fantastic weekend Kate. I’m going to miss you back in Sydney”. Oh god he was making this hard for me, and yet I wanted him to. This was more for me than just a fling with yet another himbo and I wanted to hear that I was more than just a vagina and a pair of tits to him too. It was something I knew, but I did actually want to hear it, even if it made me maudlin and tested the strength of my decision not to have a long distance relationship.
From the moment we’d met there’d always been that extra connection between us; a chemistry if you like. Even though we’d spent little more than 22 days in each other’s company – three weeks last Christmas and these few days – he’d awoken emotions I normally crushed from my repertoire. Something I might even call the first arousal of a feeling of love. But I couldn’t afford to let it go further. That would be a soul crushing disaster – for him and me.
“I’m going to miss you too Chris. More than you could know.”
As his nose nuzzled the side of my face it intercepted a tear running down my cheek; smearing it. Damn. Now he knew. I didn’t want sympathy, but I wasn’t going to be denied this moment to wallow in romantic self-pity either. He didn’t say anything, simply bringing his face down next to mine so that our cheeks were together; whereupon my body betrayed me further by sending out more tears that ran down to where our flesh joined to be dammed there; collecting as a persistent damp reminder of how tempting his offer was.
After a moment he brought his lips to mine and kissed me. It started as a peck but soon became a full on pash; tongues wrestling, arms wrapped tightly around each other. He rolled me over on top and then back over underneath again, our lips never separating; all the while his rigid cock pushed deeply inside me. I could sense it throbbing more urgently now, its needs were becoming more demanding with the passions of our kissing. Even as our bodies were locked tightly together by the strength of our embrace it was demanding little mini thrusts; demands that Chris couldn’t resist.
Alive now to the prospect of a release, awoken by the passion of the moment, his cock demanded more. His thrusting became more obvious; more sexual.
Stretching his arms, he lifted his head and chest off mine; our eyes locked in a mutual loving stare as the intensity of his lovemaking increased. As his excitement rose further his eyes drifted down to my chest where I was making sure my boobs wobbled up and down gently in response to the effect of his thrusting on my body. His breathing grew heavier and louder; becoming a sort of drawn out low moan.
He was completely into it now. Full on, physically consuming sex. Hard full depth thrusts.
I watched as his eyes rolled back in his head; his breathing momentarily seeming to stop as his body stilled itself with the full length of his erection pushed inside me. And then he exploded into his climax. With a loud drawn out grunt his cock pulsed out its seed while his body took over and delivered two giant final thrusts before he stilled himself again. Then he collapsed down on top of me; the after-shudders of his climax washing through him periodically as his cock retained its firmness.
For a while we were just lying in each other’s embrace again until the loss of his erection necessitated him rolling off me and withdrawing. I knew he would feel guilty about just getting dressed and going back to the conference when the moment somehow called for a long drawn out goodbye. I tossed him an out. you running late for the next />
“Yes, but it can wait. You’re more />
“Maybe, but I don’t want you getting into />
“I’ll tell you what. If you want to get dressed too, I’ll walk you to your car.”
And so it was that, with a final all too short hug and kiss at the car, Chris walked back into the conference and out of my life again
story by: Skidrow15
Author: Skidrow15
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