I don’t know how many miles I’ve run in my life. A lot, I suspect. If I had been careful, I could have kept track pretty easily. In the early days, I would drive over the routes I ran, using the car odometer to calculate distances. It wasn’t super accurate, but close enough. Now, I can track everything: Distance, elevation, heart rate. It’s almost too much information, and you can get swamped in the data easily.
My wife started running with me a year or so ago. She’s very much a different style of a runner than I am, and our relative fitness levels are mismatched. But I enjoy her company, and it’s good for me to slow down and smell the roses so-to-speak.
And to be honest, she looks so good in running apparel; I like it when she sprints ahead for a bit. I mean, she’s freaking hot when she takes off to her yoga or pilates class: All that performance wear, hugging every curve. But seeing her run ahead of me is something else entirely. What can I say? I’m an ass man.
We were just finishing a slow six miles along the lake, turning the corner for the last few hundred yards before we hit our driveway. As usual, my wife likes to sprint the last part, making her heart pump like crazy. I just can’t do it. My body is not happy racing like that, so she runs ahead, and I enjoy the view. I may actually pick up my pace a little bit, so she doesn’t get quite too far ahead. 🙂
I catch up to her. She is doubled over, breathing heavily, trying to get her heart rate back to normal. I’m tempted to slap her ass, but I don’t think she would appreciate that gesture at this precise moment in time.
As we wander back to the property, we talk about what the rest of the day looks like for each of us. Working from home has become a way of life now, and thankfully we have enough space in our house that I turned the currently unused guest bedroom into an office for her. So we have separate areas to exist in while the pandemic rampages on.
I have to confess to enjoying running with my wife for another reason: We have great sex afterwards. It seems like both our libidos get triggered by the increased activity.
We always try to get some stretches in before the main event occurs, but occasionally the thought of our hot and sweaty bodies together gets in the way, and we just pull off our clothes and fuck.
And that’s really what it is. Love-making is one thing we are good at, but we are also skilled at the most elemental of sexual activities. Fucking.
Like any long-term successful relationship, we both know what each other’s likes and dislikes are, and there is an unspoken understanding about who gets what and when. But there is also the opportunity to surprise each other, which keeps everyone on their toes, and things don’t get stagnant.
We are entirely naked, already drenched in sweat from our run, and we didn’t quite make it even into the house, starting our fun out on the deck. I’m between my wife’s legs, which is really my favorite place to be. I love my wife’s pussy, and she is exceptionally responsive to my tongue. I always start my licking with the outside of her labia and gradually move in, taking long slow strokes from her perineum to her prepuce. This usually drives her crazy, and I leave her clitoris well alone until she is begging me to suck her.
I take her whole sex in my mouth, pushing my tongue deep into her, and then gradually move my lips up, closing my mouth around her clit, and sucking it slowly into me. From there, my tongue gracefully flicks across her ‘Deathstar’ (her name for it, not mine), and combined with gently sucking on her clit, that typically brings her to orgasm very quickly.
But there are times when I am cruel. Listening carefully to her body, I stop right before her tipping point of when her orgasm is past the point of no return. She freezes, shouts, “What the Fuck?!” But that moment’s hesitation brings her back down for another thirty seconds of Star Wars referenced bodily anatomy sucking.
After doing that three or four times, I finally release her clit from the hostage situation of interruptions, and she comes thunderously hard.
She hates me for it but loves me for it too also. 🙂
Next, it’s my turn, and all this time, I’ve been hard as nails, my cock eager to fuck her. We are still on the deck, but she’s braced herself against the deck’s stainless-steel railing, allowing me to fuck her from behind. Like I said before, I’m a great fan of her ass, so being able to fuck her this way is my absolute favorite.
With a firm hold of her hips, I slam myself deep into her. I have wondered in the past if I am too rough, but she has clearly said to me over and over again,
“You can’t ever fuck me too hard. Understand?”
So I maintain this force for as long as I can. But even with my long-distance running and gym workouts, I just don’t have the stamina for this intensity of fucking. You see, I am one of those odd men that takes a long time to orgasm, so there is no such thing as a quickie with me.
As I slow down my movements, which are still deliciously wonderful, feeling my cock inside her tight pussy, she turns and says to me,
“Put it in my ass.”
Woah! We’ve been together for a total of three years, and I’ve never actually brought up the subject of anal before, simply because I haven’t had a past lover who liked a penis in their ass. Therefore I considered it off-limits for everyone. I guess I made a wrong assumption about my wife?
Is it terrible to say that I think I got even bigger than I usually am and a whole lot harder when I slowly eased myself into her? She was slick from running and orgasming, so there was enough lubrication that I didn’t hurt her. I heard her say,
“God, that feels so good.”
I have to revise my previous statement about not coming quickly because between her obviously tight ass and listening to her orgasm again, I reached my own sweet climax in a record-breaking time. My cock was buried deep in her ass when I came, and I swear I felt every pulse of semen shoot out of my cock into her. It was a gloriously gratifying orgasm, especially so when I knew that she had come too. This wasn’t some selfless act on her behalf.
We collapsed on the deck sun loungers and cuddled for a while, going over the minutiae of today’s new adventure.
“You know, a finger up your ass, pressed against your prostate, will make your head explode in pleasure. Just saying,” she whispered to me.
Oh boy. When was our next run together?
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