Unexpected Gym Passion Pt 02

Already well past 7 PM, Monica and I sat in her car; streetlights overhead cast a poor glow over where we'd parked. The sun was off the horizon, and the city was alive with the scourge of rush hour: people hustling across the parking lot fence, the hum of revved engines, and more. Monica reached for the unlock button on her remote, and with a sly look, turned towards me and veered off to the other side of the car, where she let her gym bag and workout clothes drop. In what seemed like her work clothes-a short skirt that barely reached a few inches above her knees, and a blouse with a few unbuttoned buttons-she looked ravishing, even with braids somewhat disheveled from our earlier encounter.

The look in her eyes was intense as they met mine across the car, her licking her lower lip sending shivers down my spine. She gestured for me to get in, and I hastily obeyed, sliding into the rear seat and yanking the door shut behind me with a muffled clang. Monica joined me, slipping into the car with that sultry elegance that leaves little to the imagination. The closeness between us was almost palpable, a magnetic pull neither of us could deny.

I was a little apprehensive, looked around to see if anyone might be seeing, but my urge to be with Monica overrode any eventual reservation. Women of her age in Nairobi were usually seen wearing rings, and true to form, I spotted one on her finger, confirming my suspicion that she might be married. As she leaned in to kiss me, her soft lips brushed against mine, and I did not care.

Between kisses, half curious, half guilty, I asked about her husband. For a second, she hesitated, and, for that one fleeting moment, I had seen disappointment on her face before she looked into my eyes again. Her lips reached mine again, and she whispered between kisses that her husband had gone to South Africa for more than three months now, leaving her in anticipation of his embrace and unsatisfied. She said this was the first time she had ever had an affair outside her marriage, her voice shaking with vulnerability and excitement.

As she was admitted, a shiver ran down my spine as I felt an instant surge of blood into my system, my body reacting to the passion of that moment. I firmly yet gently grasped her neck, easing her beneath me as our lips remained locked in that fevered embrace. The car rocked slightly as we lost ourselves to each other, my hands tracing around the contours of her body behind her clothes.

Monica spread her legs-her knee on the seat, one foot planted into the car floor, the other propped onto the headrest. Her inviting gaze drew my eyes down further to realize she had no panties or bra on. Whether she had left those in the gym or tucked them away in her bag didn't matter right then. The exposed skin glistened under the faint light, drawing me closer, compulsively.

Inch by inch, I worked my way up her thighs, kissing and tasting the heat emanating from it; she let out soft whimpers from her lips. Monica's hands moved purposefully, tugging my shirt over my head to discard and leave me bare-chested. My sweatpants grew tight with anticipation, and she seemed to catch on, pulling me up to kiss her deep before mumbling into my ear, "Please, let me see your dick."

In one swift, smooth motion, she loosened the waistband of my sweatpants and set me free from its bondage. My erection sprang forth, slapping softly against her thigh; the whole scene was highly erotically charged. Her hand wrapped around me, stroking with an intoxicating rhythm, leaving me out of breath.

I fumbled with the buttons of her blouse, casting it aside like her skirt, until we were both naked, our skin together. The heat between us grew overwhelming, and I lifted her onto my lap, her fingers trailing saliva over her entrance, her eyes locked to mine with a burning intensity.

Monica guided me to her, and as I entered her warmth inch by inch, an indescribable magic enveloped us. Her internal muscles hugged me, pulling me further with each stroke. Rarely do I moan, but the feeling of being inside her brought a groan to my lips, the sound mingling with the rhythmic slaps of our bodies colliding.

A passerby stopped outside, turned, and glanced toward the car. We froze, caught in the act, our hearts pounding in unison. She smiled knowingly and continued on her way, leaving us to explode in a fit of laughter as the tension melted away.

"That was so close," Monica giggled, her voice a fantastic, bubbling-up mix of relief and exhilaration. I answered her with a kiss and flipped her onto her knees in the back seat, her tantalizing curves on full view. It was too much to resist, and a love tap resounded as it echoed around me.

My hands went to her thighs, and with a groan, I found my way into her again, the sensation almost too much to bear. We moved together, building a rhythm that left us both breathless. Her cries of pleasure filled the car, and soon I felt the familiar buildup-the wave of release that would approach fast.

With one final thrust, I reached the peak-my release explosive and all-consuming. We collapsed against each other, our breathing labored, trying to catch our breath. Monica whispered to me after a few minutes of recuperation, her voice soft against my ear. "That was the best I have had in years. Nobody is home at my place. Would you like to come back with me? I promise I am not a serial killer. I just want to experience that again before the sun comes up."

Her offer hung in the air, and I felt a thrill of excitement at the promise of more time with this exceptional woman. The night was young, but it promised more in store, which was too enticing to refuse.