Author's Note: In case you haven't read the first five installments, or it has been a while, here's a brief recap. Emily, an 18 year old, North American, white athlete has decided to learn everything she can about sex. In exchange for his work on a small remodel in her house, and giving her experience in all things sexual, she's offered a contractor to be his summer fuck-toy. In addition, Emily has been unlocking the secrets of a former occupant of the house as she cleans up the woman's once hidden study.
Emily was out the door just as the sun was coming up, bike loaded in the SUV, swimsuit on and her muscles aching. She had woken up sore in places she hadn't known was possible: her shoulders and traps from all the drilling and sanding were a surprise, and her lower back from leaning over. And her buns. In spite of drowning them in aloe and Solarcaine, they were talking to her: a little bruised, the skin sunburned and stingy. When she first woke up she was worried she might be coming down with something, until she remembered the tickle in the back of her throat was probably from Cos. The memory of what she did, of how far she'd gone the day before, rushed back and threatened to disrupt her focus.
Even now, as she was driving, the images of what they'd done, of going down on him in the shower, of asking him to spank her, of him eating her out and her determination to let him fuck her throat, it was almost too much to process. She'd been so close to letting him inside her. She squeezed her legs together and forced herself to think about the training.
It wasn't until she plunged into the pool that her mind focused on the triathlon. Four other women were training with her, and while she was usually at the front of the pack, it depended on the day and the event. She was determined to make this her personal best on every leg of the competition, and that meant pacing herself. She wasn't sharp off the board, but her entry was clean, surfacing several body lengths in.
This is just the warm-up,
she reminded herself
. Take it easy. Don't let those muscles seize up right at the start.
Letting her body take the lead, she turned her attention to her breathing, feeling her lungs take in and process the oxygen before letting it out, in perfect timing with her head position and strokes. Touch, flip, and again. Touch, flip. Again and again, until Coach blew the whistle and they pulled themselves out of the pool, the morning air cold against their wet skin. A tiny part of her brain noted how stiff her nipples were, and she throttled it, feeling her heartbeat and breath quickly coming back to normal.
"Swimmers take your mark!" Coach held out his hand, the five of them poised on the boards. "Get set!," raising his hand above his head, bringing the whistle to his mouth. The whistle blew shrill and piercing through the cold morning air when Emily sprang from the board, the water flowing around her fingertips, her arms and across her torso, warm compared to the chilly air. Touch, flip. Touch, flip, again. And again. She felt herself gathering into a rhythm, her mind still, her body taking over, her breath and heart working together, her arms slicing through the water. Touch, flip. She knew how hard she was working, it was nearly perfect: her breathing counting out the body lengths like a metronome, her heart barely hitting 75% of her maximum.
And then she touched and Coach blew the whistle. She looked up, wiping drops from her eyes to see the others still body lengths away. She looked up at him and smiled when he nodded. She hustled out of the pool for the debrief. Coach kept it to a minimum, wanting to get them off on their bikes for the second leg as quickly as possible. When he turned to her and told her good job, she was pleased. "We'll go over notes at the end, but you hit an almost perfect first leg, Emily."
She was on her bike and out onto the route feeling her quads and hamstrings taking up the strain. The swim had loosened up her lower back, the muscles flowing and assisting with each pump of her legs. Ten minutes in she was hitting her stride, warming up as the wind dried her suit and skin. And before she knew it, she was approaching the finish line, a little winded, her muscles burning, but with plenty of capacity still.
Coach waved her on, not wanting to stop her flow. She had no idea where the others were, and she didn't care. She was running, the morning air still cool and moist keeping her body temperature down. This part of the race was against the clock: she was listening to Coach in her head
keep it to 12:00 per mile.
She hit her stride and focused on her breath, letting her feet take her where they needed to go. Her thoughts began to drift, she felt herself moving into the zone. Almost dreamlike, she moved through space, her mind focused on the race coming up later in the summer, her college plans, how strong she felt. She looked at her watch. Halfway there and almost perfect time. She upped the pace slightly, hoping to bring the next several miles in at 10:30 per. Her lungs were starting to talk to her, and her thighs were beginning to burn, but she wasn't concerned. She was way ahead of the pack, even if she wasn't winning any medals. As she was coming up to the mile marker, she felt herself hit the wall. Her legs started to feel like lead. She worried her feet wouldn't carry her. But she breathed through it, just like Coach told her. She glanced at her watch and dug deep, looking to push the final ¾ mile as fast as she could sprint it.
Coach was at the finish line smiling and encouraging her, and she crossed, sucking in air, feeling her legs disappear, her feet almost numb. She kept going, letting her momentum carry her, not letting herself collapse on the grass. He was there with a water bottle and a wet towel. She practically drowned herself in the first and slapped the other around her neck, her breath ragged, her body on fire.
"You finished way under 6! Closer to 5:30!" He was yelling at her, obviously wanting to congratulate her but not wanting to get too close, knowing she was working through the pain. "That's fantastic, Emily! Fantastic. Your swim time was 32:30! That's great! Bike leg was 2:58:17—amazing! And the run. I can't believe the run! 1:54:54!" He stopped to let her recover. "You're solid. Keep this up and you will definitely be in the top tier."
She kept walking, desperately wanting to sit down, but knowing that would be stupid stupid stupid. Someone handed her another water and she sloshed it over her face and filled her mouth with it. She looked over at Coach. "Where...are...," she waved her hands and he understood.
"They're a good half-hour out. You want to rest or should I have Andy drive you back?"
It was 10:45. She didn't want to wait another hour, but she wasn't quite ready to go yet. She nodded. "Let me catch my breath and loosen up, then yeah, if Andy's okay with it, great."
He nodded, smiling and tousling her hair. "You're doing great, Em. Really really great. Keep the training up and you'll definitely place. Oh," he stopped and looked at her, "take a day or two off, yeah? We'll be at the pool next Saturday for half, so there's plenty of time. Give yourself a day or so to recover." He stared at her, making sure she knew he was serious.
She nodded, finally feeling as if her feet weren't stuck in mud.
After they picked up her bike and Andy dropped her off at her car, Emily sat for a moment behind the wheel, collecting her thoughts. She was buzzing from the workout, but really just wanted to sit in a hot bath
or better, a hot tub! Caroline! I should call Caroline!
to keep her muscles from cramping. She really didn't want to go work on The Study, even though the thought of being near Cos sent an electric thrill up her spine. But that spike of arousal wasn't enough. She was exhausted and needed to collect herself.
She took stock of what she'd done; she wasn't sure she was proud of it. Yesterday it all seemed so amazing, and Cos had kept his side of the bargain, even when he could have taken advantage of her. But the physical exertion and time away from the house had given her distance. She wasn't so certain today what to do. Not that she didn't expect to fuck him. That was going to happen, she smiled as she turned the car around. Just not today. The fleeting memory of what he'd called her as he fed his cock into her throat made her pause.
Kitten?
She didn't know if she'd even heard it correctly, but if it was for real she pressed her lips together not sure how she felt about it. And the spanking. She hadn't thought about it since she'd woken up, but now it was worrying her.
And maybe
, she thought further,
maybe it's time to go up to the cabin and get away while I don't have training.
"Caroline?" She decided she needed to get into a tub sooner than later. "Is it too early?"
"Hah! I've already done my laps and am just sitting around the house. Wassup? Another puppy run?"
