Dynamics

His athletic prowess enabled Mark to feel purpose. It's all he knew. His achievements and milestones stuffed on shelves and mantle from the earliest of days. He competed with everything he had that his legs hurt. Arms bruised. Concussions accumulate. He had no significant interest in anything else but competing. Everyday was planned. Game, race, practice, workout, He changed with the season. The sport, the geography, the physical challenges all changed. It was all he knew.

Going from soccer practice in his football pants was a common occurrence in the late summer and fall. If you kicked it, punched it, threw it, caught it, shot it, Mark was doing it. He raced Motorcross from an early age. Riding was his dad's hobby. He was successful at an early age. Talk of making it a year round event. His parents would consider leveraging what they had to realize his potential. Finding himself in certain areas of the northeast to race. The opportunity to get to the next level hinged on his ranking. He needed exposure for factory help and sponsorship. His dad, taken him to the southeast region to accumulate points and gain exposure.

It's a been a hot month at tracks from Florida, Georgia, lastly Tennessee. Mark is sick of it. His dad bitching. The pain he feels. The mechanical failure at each race. It's been miserable. This last weekend, he's going to tell his pops that's it. He's through with racing. He wants to stay home. Football season is coming. He's heading into High School. He wants girls. Parties. Learn to drive.

Unloading the bikes for the final weekend, Mark sees the most remarkable young lady. She's dancing to a song on the radio. Playing with the hose nearby. She's so happy. She's magnetic.

He's drawn to her extroverted personality. His first crush. Amy is perfect. The conversation flows. They're inseparable from the beginning of the weekend until the final lap. Agree to stay in touch. They're from different places. Different trajectories. They're feelings for one another only as deep as the time they're allowed.

Mark and Amy talk on the phone. Write letters. Send cards and gifts. They're trying to make it work. Both have realized they will never be more than friends.

College long since gone. Facebook is where they sneak peeks on their families. They comment. They hit all the icons. Years have passed. Careers take shape. Their friendship fades. The trip to Boston shared on Amy's page makes the unlikely a sense of opportunity.

Amy nervously gets ready. She hasn't seen Mark, in person, in 25 years. She's looks incredible. She's the woman of desire. Her curves perfect. Her hair and skin radiant. Putting her pencil skirt on, it's time.

Opening the door to Ramsey's kitchen, Mark notices her immediately. Taking a deep breath, approaches Amy from behind. Looking into her phone, Amy's hair falls forward. Appreciating her curves as he approaches, Mark gently leaning into Amy's shoulder, places her hair behind her ear, "25 years is long enough. What's going to happen tonight, we'll discuss in the morning," he whispers in her ear. Her startled look excites him in his loose fitting slacks. He knew of his excitement long before this moment. He prepared himself properly. His cock and balls smooth. Free to expand without underwear. Dreams the last few weeks. Edging to her beauty for days. So full and ready to explode.

"I've waited my entire adult life for this night. There's no responsibility that matters tonight. Always the coquette. Manipulation won't work. You post all the little thirst traps on social media. Get all the attention from the icons. Tonight you have my attention. Completely undivided attention to do as I desire, and more importantly, what you know you've wanted from me."

Slamming the door behind them, Mark removes the satin tie from his pocket. "Mark, I'm scared. What are we doing?" She trembles. Blindfolding her with the smooth fabric, Amy can't deny the thrill. "Something you know you want. Let it happen baby. Give into what you've needed the last 25 years. You've been my muse, day and night, for two decades. It's not a tragic story anymore. It's the beginning of a love affair." His soft, yet deep voice gives her chills. Her tight lacy panties begin to steam. Her hunger builds. "I need for you to be silent baby. Feel the trust you have for. Let it wash over. Earn everything you want tonight. Be a good girl and earn it."

Blindfolded by a man she knew only as a boy, her trust in him is inherent. Feeling his tongue on her neck, he pushes her to the wall. Her hands subdued above her head. She feels his other hand roam. Carefully unzipped, she knows to let him do what he wants. That's what a good girl does. Her thong is perfect. Her womanly figure completely admired by him. "Leave your hands against the wall. Show me." Her years of dancing makes her perform naturally. Slowly moving her hips. Articulate movements enticing. Mark removes his suede belt. Folded in his hands, the snapping sound sends shivers up her back.

Her wrists suddenly arrested by suede. Bound together and hung conveniently on the hook just above. There are no coincidences. Almost like some intervention, She just happened to be directly underneath it. He spreads her carefully and with deep admiration. Her soft curves displayed by dim light. His years long lust builds. A gentle spank to see if she can take it. Amy moans. Her pussy, getting wetter. Continuing her performance, her as prominent. Spanks her hard. Leaving a print excites him. He pulls her thong midway from her hips, she's dripping with excitement." Please! Again! Spank my ass again!"

"Are you good enough? Did you earn it? Spread your legs and show me how you've earned it." On bended knee now, Mark sees the excitement built in her. He knew she liked something about it rough. He looks at his rough, masculine hands knowing where she wants him to use them.

His fingers slip slowly inside, she leans forward. His dominant hand at his side, she dances on his fingers. Artfully fucking his hand, with a full, and fierce open hand, swats her ass cheek in the exact spot as the others. His print on her semi raised. Her clench tight around his fingers like a vice. She's earning it. She's earning the small bruise she desires. Mark can't hold out. His self discipline is waning. Pulling her hips toward him, he rests beneath her curves. His fingers remain. Her hips' artistry rhythmic on them, he licks teasingly. "Oh god baby. I don't know... I... I... we... never done that." Amy's clench returns. Her hips stop. Her trust in him questioning. "You're safe my muse. You're such a beautiful woman. You're doing so good. Return yourself to trust. I promise to be here with you. You're an amazingly good girl, aren't you?" Mark spanks her harder than before on her other cheek. Leaving an instant print virtually identical to the other. She moans loudly easing her grip, Soaking his hand. His tongue placed again where it briefly concerned her. Teasing her ass with tongue, his nose deepens in her, leaving his dominant hand to do more.

With more intensity she fucks his hand. Licking her ass at an intense pace to match her hips choreography, his hand reaches her full breasts hidden behind her shirt. Blindfolded, the anticipation of his touch increased, she's feral. Reaching to her shirt buttons, Mark, with an unexpected force, rips open her shirt revealing to him what a real woman looks like completely. Squeezing her nipple hard, licking her from behind, she fucks wilder. Pounding onto his fingers. Her clit rubs against him with every thrust. Her ass cheeks ripple closely to his face with her movements. Her orgasm near. "Be a good girl and cum. Hold onto that orgasm. Hold it until you can fully let go. Squirt it on my hand baby. Be a good girl and squirt."

Amy needs no more direction. She earned her orgasm. She bucks intensely. Mark spanks her as hard as he can. She cums all over his hand. Soaking her panties. Ankles drenched, she shudders.

The blindfold put away. Her hands free. Their teenage love replaced by lust. They're illicit affair born. Enjoying each until the next place and time. Their dynamic understood.