We walked into my room, our hand wraps trailing behind us as we freed our fingers. As Seth turned back to shut the door, I slid my hands over his sweaty shoulders, feeling the hard muscles beneath his skin. Locking the door with a click, Seth turned back to me, smiling. He kissed me hard, and I could taste the sweat lingering in the stubble on his face. So contrary to the rest of his body pressing against me, his tongue felt cool in my mouth, a result of the water he had just swallowed.
Seth and I are training at a muay thai camp in Thailand. Four hours a day, in the early morning and then the late afternoon, time spent punching, kicking, and blocking. Instructors held pads and called out moves and corrections in a mix of English and Thai. There were a mix of farang (foreigners, in Thai) training on a daily basis, both male and female. Training was gender blind, for the most part; it's the kind of gym where everyone is treated with respect. Although I do admit, I did like to admire the fittest guys who trained with their shirts off-- including, but certainly not limited to Seth.
Most trainees at the gym take themselves very seriously, maybe too seriously. Many of the conversations deal with how much training is enough, what to eat, drink, sleeping patterns, sore muscles. I like to think that I take the training, not myself, seriously. It was so good to meet Seth, who was much the same. A fellow American (not as common out here as might be expected), Seth trained hard, but also knew when to take a break-- that playing hard was as important as working hard. And mmmm, had we played hard in the short time we have known each other.
"No, no, no," I murmured as Seth pulled my shirt over my head. He set his lips firmly on the side of my neck, kissing, licking, sucking gently, as his fingers went to work on the clasp of my bra. "I'm sweaty and gross and smell bad. Let's take a shower first."
He slid the straps from my shoulders and threw the bra to the ground. Pulling my body close to his, Seth leaned and whispered in my ear, a deep, husky whisper that sent heat rushing through my body, my pussy contracting around the emptiness I was now so painfully aware of.
"Maybe I like you dirty." I know he liked me dirty. He got off on the same fantasies I did, games of domination and submission, of torturous slow and lingering foreplay, of fantasies of every shape and style possible. Slipping his hands down the back of my shorts, he continued to arouse me further.
"Maybe I want to lick my way down your body," he paused, continuing to breathe into my ear as he squeezed my ass, "tasting every bead of salty sweat, until I finally get to the sweet, sweet prize." With that, he slipped his hand between my ass cheeks, reaching for my pussy.
"No!" I said, pushing him away. "Your hands are disgusting! Have you seen some of guys in there?" I said, gesturing back towards the camp. "We sweat buckets, so no, you are not sticking anything inside me until we've cleaned up."
Seth laughed and gave me a little swat on the ass. "Yes, ma'am. I wouldn't want you to fight me," he said laughing.
I crossed my arms, pouting a bit. "Oh ha ha. I think I'm faster than you at least".
"Oh, sweetie, you know all my weak spots. You could take me down without throwing a single punch." He gave me a sweet, gentle kiss, just enough to make me forget his little joke and remind me of all the fun we were going to have after our shower. Or maybe even during our shower...
Seth had quickly stripped off his shorts and went to turn the shower on. One of us had to be the neat one, and that task has fallen to me. I picked up our clothes, stripping my shorts off, and hung them in the corner to dry. The rack would go outside as soon one of us put some clothes on; something I hoped wouldn't happen for a while
The thing about showers in Thailand is that they're in the same room as the sink and the toilet, no divider or anything. Step out from under the spray, it's probably going to hit the toliet. It's a little awkward at first, very different from the usual western set-up. One positive was that it allows for two people to share a shower a bit easier than in the States--however weak the water pressure.
I gave Seth's puckered lips a quick kiss, but when he pulled me against him for a deeper kiss, I pushed him away.
"Seth, this water is gross. We're not supposed to drink it! I think if you start slobbering your tongue all my face, you're going to end up swallowing some." I reached for the bar of soap and starting rubbing it all over my body, suppressing the urge to smile as Seth stood in the corner, mouth gaping in horror.
"Slobbering!? That's what my kissing feels like to you? Slobbering?"
I shrugged.
"Well, then, if that's how you're going to play it," Seth declared, grabbing the soap and lathering his hands, "I guess I'll have play dirty."
Laying the soap on the counter, Seth's hands went to my shoulders, my neck, massaging the soap into my skin. Oh, he was playing dirty, and I couldn't help but moan, showing my hand in the first few moments of our game. My muscles were so sore, his touch was so welcome. I don't even know if it was sexual arousal or pure endorphins, but either way I was done.
His hands sank to my breasts, slipping over the soapy surface. Seth pinched my nipples in quick, short bursts, my darkening nipples shooting out from the pressure of his grasp. Yelps, little yelps, escaped from my mouth as I felt the heat rush through me. I wanted more, so much more. I knew where his hands were going next and I wondered if he would sate me or keep me wanting.
My query was quickly answered, although it wasn't the answer that I wanted. His fingers slid down to my pussy, but he came about as close as he could to it without actually touching it. Sliding in and out from between my legs, his fingers rubbed my outer lips, but barely grazed my more sensitive inner lips. I whimpered, desperately wanting to feel his fingers on my clit. He was the first guy I met who could rub me (nearly) as well as I could.
"Ah," I cried, feeling his finger rubbing along the side of my clit, finally. Soft but insistent, Seth quickly built me up, making me feel weak and warm at the same time.
"Ah... oh my god, Seth... oh... ooooooh... Oh god, Seth, I can't take this. Your finger, you, you, you, you feel so good. Oh. Oh. Oh, I can't take it. Ooooooooh my-- Seth! Please... ooooooooooh god! Ah, ah, ah," I was breathing heavy, but shallow breaths, so quickly, as I felt myself getting closer and closer to coming.
And then suddenly-- he stopped. I whimpered in regret as Seth took his hand away from me.
Seth pulled back, letting me start to catch my breath, but seeing as he had began to lather himself up, it wasn't really soothing my libido. I reached for him, wanting to feel his soapy skin slide underneath my fingers. His cock was pointing at me, a collection of bubbles and foam around the base in his trimmed pubic hair. I wanted to wrap my hand tight around it, creating a grip as tight and slippery as my pussy, and work him over. Hell, work myself over--I wanted his cock so badly and touching him would make me even wetter.
"No," Seth said, his voice unexpectedly strong. My hand froze midway between us. Seth took the showerhead off of the wall and directed the stream over his body, rinsing all of the soap off. I watched eagerly, pouting, as the white rivets ran down his body. Once clean, Seth hung the shower back on the wall, and, hands on my shoulders, pulled me under the water. Keeping his body apart from mine, I felt his lips in my ear as he muttered, "Slobbering," before pulling away completely. He grabbed his towel and went back into the bedroom to dry off, robbing me of that show.
Bastard. He knew that I would listen to him, wouldn't dare disobey that particular tone of voice; our first meeting had made sure of that. He was torturing me, denying me what I so badly wanted. He was so hard to tease sometimes--there could always be some repercussions. As I finished washing off, I was smiling-- Seth's consequences were always enjoyable.
"What do you think you're doing?"
I had walked out of the bathroom, naked and dry, and over to the dresser, grabbing a pair of panties to lie down in. I held up a light pink pair and smiled.
