Mandy Stevenson hated the gym, not the gym itself just the agony of having to perform the grueling regimen day after day, week after week, consuming what seemed like all of her free time. A hectic schedule as a sales representative for a cosmetic company, deadlines, sales quotas, and the pressures of family life weighed heavily on her, so heavily that she had begun to skip workouts from time to time, and didn't feel guilty about it at all. Today was just such a day; but to her credit she steeled her nerve and made her way to the dressing room, changed into her workout clothes and started warming up before the aerobics class began. Mandy worked out five times a week; every other day was an aerobic day, in between were weight lifting days devoted to certain trouble spots of her body. Being thirty five years old meant staving off gravity and enhancing her already good genes, but it was hard work.
Mandy was married to John Stevenson, an attorney for a small law firm. They were quite happy and seldom disagreed on anything important. John understood Mandy's drive to maintain her attractive looks and supported her in her professional career. Both maintained long office hours and worked at least part of the weekends if not most of them. This arduous lifestyle suited them fine; most of their friends were also business associates, and they had no children to distract them from their work. Over the years, as they delved into their careers more and more, home life and most especially sex was relegated to pedestrian status: Routine only on holidays and the odd long weekend. This is what brings us to Mandy's current predicament.
As she finished her stretching and joined the other tortured souls forming up for class, she caught sight through the large glass window of the exercise room of a young man, twenty-something, working on a weight machine in the adjacent weight room. Her class began and she realized she had been staring and missed the opening steps; hurrying she joined in the movements, hoping that no one had noticed her distraction. As the class went on Mandy's eyes followed the young man from machine to machine, barely conscious of her intention to do so, but intent just the same. When the aerobics class began to warm down, and Mandy had an unobstructed view of the young man, she marveled quietly to herself that his lean muscular frame was nearly perfect in proportion.
He was working on the trap-pull-down exercises that made each muscle in his back flex and roll as his arms were pulled to his side then extend back above his head. She stood transfixed as he repeated the exercise, and each time she would flush with the warmth of exhilaration, as her eyes followed the beads of sweat as they traced their way downward, searching a trail down each perfectly defined crevice in his back, disappearing in shadow of his lower torso that stood in stark contrast to the bulging knots of flesh above. A primal urge erupted as Mandy felt a bead of sweat on her abdomen run inexorably along her pubic hair and across her clitoris sending a shockwave of intense sensation through her as though she were electrocuted. Mandy broke from her trance and hurried to the dressing room, changed and left the gym forcing herself not to look back for the young man.
Arriving home after eight had been usual for an aerobic night, John seldom came home before ten o'clock himself. Mandy ran a bath, grabbed her sales brochures and settled back to soak and read, but she couldn't concentrate and soon found her thoughts returning to the young man's image as she gently placed a finger to the soft folds between her legs and gingerly tried to persuade the clitoris to repeat the sensation she had experienced in the gym earlier. But try as she might, her manual stimulation failed to excite the requisite response. Disappointed, she finished her bath and completed her evening grooming routine.
With so little time to spare Mandy often did her laundry as time allowed and started a small load, while she nursed a small glass of wine. She was wandering through the hallway when she heard the spin cycle start and a devious thought ran through her mind, she recalled as a girl how she had sat on her mother's washing machine imagining what an orgasm with a boy was like as the machine vibrated her into ecstasy. She turned and went back to the wash room, pressed her mound to the corner of the rapidly vibrating machine and strained to remember the young man once again. In seconds her brow was beaded with sweat her pulse was racing and the vibrations were producing the desired stimulation, her mind grasped at the image of her young man, her hands following the beads of sweat as they mingled with his muscular frame, she was reaching for the bulge she imagined was there in his shorts, her climax was close, he was calling her name
"Mandy…Mandy,"
"Yes," she moaned under her breath. Then again,
"Mandy, where are you?"
Mandy froze. The voice she had heard was John's, not her imagination, "Yes…I'm in the wash room." She called out, quickly trying to compose herself, her heart betraying her effort as it pounded out its staccato pulse in her breast. Her face was flush with the excitement and the embarrassment of having come so close to being caught masturbating. But for her chagrin, John was none the wiser and just began his shower, and readied for bed.
Mandy lay still upon the bed awaiting her husband, one recurring thought obsessing her unrequited mind; her young man's image delivering her an orgasm, the orgasm she desperately needed now, 'god was John going to take all night' she wondered. And then he was there, unaware of her agitated state of arousal. He slid between the sheets, reached for the light beside the bed, flicked the switch off, and darkness consumed them.
As lust fires roared through Mandy, melting her muscles, she reached for John's pajamas. A curling line of fine light brown hair arrowed down from his navel and began to spread just as it was covered by the elastic of his pajama bottoms. Gripping the waist band between her thumb and forefinger, Mandy ran it down over the bulge of his cock which lay flaccid, nestled between his thighs.
"Hey, what's the idea, I have to work early tomorrow?" John complained. Excitement over what was to come was roaring through her as she shoved his pajamas down around his calves, then knelt to help him get his feet free of the pants. Right in front of her face was his powerful cock. A few curling strands of his pubic bush had swathed around the shaft giving it a gift wrapped appearance.
As she knelt at his feet, Mandy looked up at him, her hazel eyes glittering with excitement. With feathery, delicate fingers she stroked the now rapidly stiffening tower of his prick. The cords of muscle in John's throat stood out with the strain as he combed his fingers through Mandy's curling hair.
Deliberately taunting John, Mandy tickled the sensitive skin on the insides of his strong thighs. She pushed back between his thighs, her fingers gently lifting and weighing the ovoid, sperm-heavy masses of his testicles. She saw his belly ripple with excitement from her bold explorations.
The first Mandy saw of that hard rod was its curving, bulbous head-just the tip of it-just its shy slit. She pulled the top of his pajamas that still obscured his man-meat, exposing more and more of his cock, the white pinkish cap of the glans, the groove under it, and the special sensitive wedge on the underside where the groove curved upward toward the slit, like the top curve of a valentine. Then she was exposing the pale shaft with its soft skin and the bulging ridges of its veins that slid over the hard, hot core. And behind that ready, erect phallus, like an artistic backdrop, were the dark blond, almost brown curls of his pubic hair.
The shaft of John's cock rose steadily, until it was aimed straight at Mandy's face. Without flinching away from it, she exposed his balls in their wrinkled dark sac nestling between his hairy thighs. She licked her lips at the sight of such a demanding cylinder of turgid meat, but that wasn't what she wanted this time. She didn't want a heavy bulk hammering down her throat. She needed it in her already streaming vagina.
Wrapping her fingers around the hot, hard cock, she fondled the rock-hard tower, feeling the skin shift over the unyielding core, and measured the tenseness there. She looked down at it greedily. Its curving cap was aimed now at the soft swell of her belly, as if ready to fuck her in the belly button.
John reached around her arms and fingers as she fondled his erection. Mandy had to let go of John's cock when he moved between her tanned, sleek legs. Then he slid his hands up the backs of her legs to her buttocks and hauled her hips forward into his face. His nose bored into the tangle of her pubic bush and jammed into the hot folds of her pussy.
Mandy sucked in her breath involuntarily as John's tongue speared into the searing heart of her sex. Her head rolled as passion flamed through her from the unexpected oral assault on her vagina and clitoris. She sprawled backwards on the rumpled covers of the bed, spreading her legs open to expose her crotch. She knew he could see the excited pink lips of her pussy through the dark bush of hair. Her breasts stood, proud, pale and firm as she lay on her back.
And she had feasted her eyes on John's stocky, powerful frame. As he had moved over her his cock had bobbed and weaved, drooling its own excitement. A shining drop was suspended by a glittering strand that stretched and stretched and finally broke, letting the heavy drop fall.
Then he had been on her and into her warm, receptive vagina, and that wayward vision of her nameless young man had flashed through Mandy's mind. Why here and now did she have to see that? Why here and now, with John's cock sunk in her streaming vagina did she have to fight down memories of her imagined lover's face, of his tall, muscular body? Her imagination filled in what she was uncertain of-the curling brown bush and the jutting cock that she had only imagined.
Then John's pelvis collided with hers and the vision in Mandy's mind was obliterated by a fiery blast of pleasure. Her clitoris was mangled between their bodies, converted to a nova-knot of heat that flared out through her body, knotting her muscles and bringing a grunt from her lungs. John pistoned his cock in her guts and her hips answered with twisting jumps of their own. His body felt rough and harsh against her tender skin. Lust raged through her.
John thought that for a second, just a second, as he had penetrated her vagina with his cock Mandy had frozen. For a fleeting moment her body had gone limp and unresponsive under him as the hot folds of her vagina had enfolded his prick. But then, before he could worry about it or respond, she was alive under him, her body writhing and moving to accept him as he plumbed her depths. The feel of her tight vagina embracing his big phallus was enough to obliterate all thought about the incident. All his attention was concentrated on the feel of her firm body against his, on the engulfing of his prick by her clinging, slick, wet folds.
Pushing up, he watched her features. They still harbored a trace of her work-out-flushed appearance, and twisted with passion as he pistoned his prick in her tender belly. Then he lowered himself on her again and they writhed together ecstatically and relished the feel of their flesh, squirming against each other's bodies.
