Some of the best days of your life are totally unexpected. This is one of mine.
It started like any other. I went to work, worked, came home. I said hi to my girlfriend, but she was working hard on some assignment and didn't seem willing to be bothered. I left her alone and struggled to convince myself to go for a run.
You know that battle you have in your head every time you plan on exercising? The moments where you struggle to decide whether to cry off it or not?
I had that hard that day. But eventually I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and remembered the fat boy I had once been, and decided to head off for a quick fiver.
It was one of those late winter days where the sun has yet to winnow into the horizon and the low grey light seems to hover latently over the world. Clouds had gathered but the weather was not fully cold and so I left in a windbreaker and shorts, since I tended to heat up quickly.
It wasn't a bad run, all things considered. But if I were writing about the run, I wouldn't be posting my story here.
I was nearing the end of the jog when I felt something racing at my heels. Alarmed, I stopped and saw that it was a jet-black dog, some kind of poodle thing. It jumped at my face and licked at my cheeks.
"Aw, you're really friendly, aren't you?" I glanced around the street, but nobody had emerged to claim it. I held onto it by the collar, and though it kept jumping at me with the kind of pure joy that only dogs can muster, I managed to make out the number on its tag.
I had just begun to call the number when I heard a woman's voice calling. She rounded the corner of her house and she saw me with her dog and immediately smiled with relief.
"Is this your dog?" I asked.
She nodded and so I went to pull the dog across the street by the collar. When she wouldn't come, I just picked her up instead and brought her over to the woman.
As I got closer, I couldn't help but notice how beautiful this woman was. She was clearly around forty, but it was the kind of forty where whatever beauty she had in her youth was only heightened. Like a river running through the land until it makes itself last.
She was thin and shorter than me, her hair dyed a deep black. It was cut around her ears into a kind-of pixie cut. Not the "I-want-to-speak-to-your-manager haircut," but a playful thing that seemed to defy age. When she smiled, deep dimples stretched across her face.
"Thank you so much," she said. I handed her the dog, who leapt and barked when she saw her owner. "I just was busy making dinner, and then she slipped out. I'm so glad you found her.
I smiled awkwardly. She was just so damn pretty. "I'm just glad I was there."
"Me too," she said. Then her eyes darted down, just for the briefest second. I became acutely aware of the wind blowing at my legs, revealed as they were by my short running shorts.
I looked back at her, ready to say goodbye.
She stopped me before I could. "Come inside," she said. "I want to thank you properly."
I stuttered, surprised and unable to speak. I nodded instead. She took my hand and I followed, powerless to resist. Her ass was perfectly round and wiggled as she walked. Yoga pants shaped and lifted it, and I found myself overwhelmed by the desire to grab it.
She looked back and caught me staring. She bit her lip, holding back another smile. God, she was cute. We had reached the storm door. She opened it and gestured that I should enter. I followed.
I found myself in a well-lit kitchen. The woman disappeared into the house for a moment, leading the dog with her. Then she returned. Her tank-top clung tightly to her chest, her breasts bouncing slightly as she moved.
"Ready for your reward?" she asked.
"What's my reward?"
"It's better if I show you."
Then she was on me. Pushing my chest, she led me back up against the counter, pressing her body against mine. Her lips met mine and I started kissing her back, my tongue slipping forward to meet hers. Her hand began at my chest, then traced its way down my back to my ass. Her hand cupped my butt, firm as it was from all my running. She moaned into my mouth and brought her body even closer.
She was so warm. I grabbed her ass with both hands and ground my cock into her waist. She moaned and then pulled back from kissing me, just for a moment. She gave me the perfect smile, the kind that makes men's knees tremble. We all know it. Her hand slipped from my ass to my cock, feeling the outline of it through my shorts.
"You're already hard," she whispered.
I only nodded. I couldn't do any more. Her hand had begun to stroke me, her grip soft and firm.
"Don't worry," she said. "I'll take care of you."
I nodded again and she reached into my shorts and took my cock out.
"This is nice," she smiled. "I'm glad to see that looks weren't deceiving." She started stroking me while I was leaning against the counter. She stood there, fully dressed, her hand running up and down my dick. It was slow at first, so slow. Only her fingertips, glancing across me. I was harder then I had ever been in my life.
I leaned in to kiss her and she stopped me, a hand on my chest.
"I'm in charge now," she said.
She stepped closer and started kissing at my neck, her hand now wrapped more fully around my cock. Her strokes were now faster and pre-cum had begun to leak from me. The soft slapping sound of my skin around my dickhead was all that could be heard, her kisses too imperceptibly gentle to make noise.
