The Jogger
Chapter 1
When you want to meet women, the last place you'd expect to meet a woman is running a marathon. But lots of women run marathons, they train maybe 100 miles a week, and then they're ready to compete. David was determined to run a marathon, and hopefully meet a kindred spirit. He expected to meet someone who was all legs and not much up top. But as fate would have it, he met Nancy who was all ass, and had too much up top. She was a dirty blond, 24 years old, and a heavy smoker.
David was from the UK, and people liked him. He was bright, 23, an honors student and had no enemies. Of course. These days David lived in Boston, more towards Framingham and that's when he developed a desire to run. The big marathon starts in Framingham and 26.2 miles later ends up in downtown Boston.
Bookish, David wore glasses and you might take him for a Rhodes Scholar. His crisp British accent helped him get part time work as an announcer, especially on foodie shows. If you asked him the difference between a lamb chop and pork loin he didn't have a clue. But he did have a huge dick. Because of the size of his affair, he wore polyester trousers. There was no way he could have squeezed into a pair of jeans. His figure was lean, and his cock was almost as long as his forearm.
His mother's name was Mary, a common name for a very uncommon woman. She had been married four times, not being satisfied with any of the blokes she married. She was oversexed, as most women in their forties tend to be, whether they'll admit it or not. It seemed the only man who could satisfy her was her son. It was motherly love, of course, and she taught him about the birds and the bees and how to lick pussy. Her figure was voluptuous with a fleshy ass and full breasts. She did not shave her pubis because she loved the Victorian style, where a well bred woman had a thick bush, and men fucked by the numbers.
How she corrupted David is another story, but she vaguely remembers him, wanking off in broad delight just before breakfast, and then after breakfast and a few times during the day. Was it because he wanted to be a doctor, or maybe go to law school? Whatever it was, he'd study for a while and got up and emptied his balls. Like a good mother, she was a voyeur, and watched his every move. When he realized he'd never have any privacy, he said to hell with it, and blatantly jerked off while she watched him.
They never spoke about it, David's masturbation. What was there to say? It was something that young men did, maybe all young men, and David joked about it. He didn't have warts on his palm, because he knew it was a joke maybe made up by a woman with penis envy. He was sensible enough to know that jerking off didn't make your dick any longer or thicker.
Mary, not having a dick of her own, marveled at the size of his affair, and as he matured so did his cock. When he was sleeping she peeled back the blanket and stared at it, amazed at the way it would twitch when he slept, as if it knew she was watching. But she knew to leave it alone, because at this point in time, it wasn't hers and maybe some day it would be hers. Mary was a patient woman when it came to her son.
To say David was hung like a donkey is to diminish the size of his limb. It's impossible to study if your cock is always hard, always throbbing, and needs frequent rubbing with an aloe cream to polish its exterior. You might wonder about David's wanting to run? To meet girls of course!
* * *
Nancy went to a private high school, and on to college in Putney, Vermont. It was a woman's college and she had her share of lesbian trysts. She had affairs with female students, the faculty and the nurse at school. She even let the woman who worked at the 7/11 lick her pussy. She did not discriminate, except she avoided women who liked to be flogged. She herself was against pain because she felt sex should be fun and not something that sends you to the ER.
She developed a reputation for being lax about sex, and her friends never forgot her. Even though many of them married into money, they attended reunions only to see Nancy for some serious action. This college has long since been closed .
For a completely logical reason, Nancy became a runner. She smoked, and she felt running would help her kick the habit. She literally ran every morning, at 6 AM, because her current boyfriend was a runner. He encouraged her to have a goal, to enter a 10K race. It didn't help her achieve orgasms but her thighs tightened up, and her dress size shrank to a size 12. She had curves!
Nancy's first marathon was the Bonnie Bell marathon, a 10K race for women. She finished last, of course, and immediately had to have a cigarette. Over 7000 participants ran in 2020, and Nancy achieved some notoriety for having finished at all, smoking as she was.
You can attribute it to genetic predisposition, but Nancy never had an orgasm. Or maybe she was unable to
achieve
orgasm. When she had sex, like fucking, that kind of sex, she grunted like a sow. It appeared she really enjoyed being pummeled, but when it was over, she never climaxed. She once had a boyfriend who was a 5-star pussy licker. He could make anyone climax, except Nancy. Attributing her missing orgasms to her immune system she began taking supplements like horny goat weed and ginseng. After weeks of this regimen she began to grow a moustache, and this was the last thing she needed. Her boobs got bigger and this affected her running time. It seemed everything was against her. As a last resort she went to Bishop Flanagan and told him about her lurid past and how many women had licked her pussy. She could hear the good bishop wanking in the confessional. Assigning Nancy a regimen of Hail Mary's did not help her pussy, but it did mitigate her concern. The Lord was always watching the priest told her. It puzzled her to think Jesus had nothing better to do, than watch Nancy.
Buddhism was fashionable at the time, so she took up meditation. Nancy was a heavy drinker and she preferred single malt scotch. She dated a serious boy, named Louis, a Buddhist, and they went to temple together. When Louis picked her up she was half in the bag. Maybe chanting did it to her, but after an hour's chanting she needed to have a drink. Luckily she always carried a flask in her handbag, and by the time Louis dropped her off at her apartment, Nancy was blind drunk.
All in all, Nancy was a nice person. She liked to laugh, was a fine arts major, and she made friends easily. Her watercolors, which she had framed, consisted of close-ups of a woman's vulva. She was a dirty blond, with hair that reached her nipples. Most important, she had good teeth, and delicate feet.
You may wonder if Nancy masturbated. Why bother? Women masturbated, presumably to achieve orgasm. Nancy preferred to drink, since it dulled her mind and she didn't feel bad about not reaching that ecstatic milestone.
* * *
Nancy came from a religious family. Her mother was even more religious than her father. Even though Mom was Catholic, her father was a preacher. When her father preached, he preached love, that we should love one another, as ourselves. That was the problem: Nancy didn't love herself, in fact she hated herself. When her mother got into the spirit, she saw visions of angels, not playing harps , but just hanging out there. She tried to talk to them, but they just smiled and she could have sworn one angel gave her the finger. Or pointing upwards, towards heaven. She was confused about that finger.
Her mother sometimes heard voices and when she spoke to her husband about it, she was told it was her imagination. She went to a psychiatrist and the first thing he asked her, 'when did God speak to you last?' He had a huge lump in his pants.
When you hear voices it's not something you just brush away, like a lady bug on your arm. The voice has a message for you, otherwise why would the voice waste its time even try to reach you? Mary felt the Divinity had a reason to reach her, and could have sent an angel. But no, the Voice was there, not all the time, but when she felt depressed.
Because Nancy had very large breasts, she felt people didn't like her, only her boobs. Since her nipples were unusually prominent, more so when she was aroused, women took an interest in her too. Women stopped her in the supermarket, at bus stops, and in church. But mostly in ladies' rooms. They spoke to her in low voices dripping with lust. They offered to buy her a drink, take her shopping, to give her a massage. Nancy sensed these women were aroused, that her pheromones drove women crazy. She hoped running would help her lose weight, and she didn't mind if women found her sexy.
Chapter 2
There were lots of women crossing the finish line that day. David, being a curious person, was standing not too far away as Nancy staggered in, and was close to collapse. He was always attracted to busty women and Nancy, with her boobs almost spilling out of her tank top attracted his attention. She was standing there, a cigarette between her fingers, and perspiring heavily. David thought twice before approaching her, but considering the size of her knockers, he gave it a shot.
"Hi," he said, smiling from ear to ear.
"Hi," she said, taking a drag on her cigarette.
He was obviously an intellectual type, and she usually avoided men who would rather read a book than fuck.
"Are you OK?" he said, his face showing concern.
"Sure. Why'd you ask?"
"Well, you're smoking. People who run usually aren't smokers."
"Yeah, I guess not ..."
