I finished my run 2 minutes ahead of schedule, so I smiled to myself as I saved my run on my phone and turned off the podcast that kept me laughing.
I walked in the front door, turned on the A/C, laid out my yoga mat, and grabbed my push up bars. After closing the front blinds, I stripped down, put my towel on the corner of the couch that got the most cool air, and relaxed.
My cock was soft, my breathing heavy, and my skin damp with sweat. A couple of minutes in the cool air of the A/C and I had to move. I got down on my knees, feeling them pop and creak, and pulled my pushup bars into position. Several injuries over the years made it difficult to do classic pushes, my wrists just didn't bend that way anymore.
I brought my feet together, positioned my hands just wider than my shoulders, and started.
1, 2, 3..... catch my breath. It's a bitch getting older, I don't recommend it.
4, 5, 6...... the next three were deeper, stretching and challenging the muscles of my back and shoulder.
7...my wrist hurts so I reposition, but I don't let my knees touch the ground.
8.... lower
9.... I feel the threads of the carpet on my expanding cock.
10...the lowest of the set, the length of my shaft presses against the floor, I hold the position and thrust twice, feeling the friction on my bare skin, and a looooong press up, and I'm finished.
I collapse on my stomach and catch my breath, swearing off, as I do every morning, the sugar in my coffee, the chocolate in the cupboard, and the hidden Thin Mints that no one remembers.
Pretending not to hear the patio sliding door open, I rest, but I recognize the footfalls.
"Damn", she says, "When did you get old?"
"Older every day." I reply.
"Well," she said, "I can still make use of you. Just hold still."
I saw her reflection in the TV. Her short white tennis skirt had the "Cathedral Hills Tennis Club" logo near the hem and her bright red polo shirt hit the floor next to me and the same patch stared me in the face. Her skirt landed on the couch. Her reflection had cute, but practical undergarments, tight which panties and a sports bra that kept her in place as she ran across the baseline, back and forth, back and forth.
I started to turn around, but she told me to hold still. So I did. It wasn't official, but I recognized the tone in her voice, and it was one of those days. Maybe she lost her match, maybe the kids were brats, or maybe she saw her husband smile at the waitresses at dinner for a bit too long. Either way, it was her turn.
Her expensive gym back rustled and the zipper sounded louder than normal.
"Up." she said, trying not to make it a command.
I shifted to my elbows, and then my knees, and then dropped my chest to the sticky yoga mat.
Her hands stroked my hips, my lower back, and the backs of my thighs as the tip of her acrylic cock teased my skin. The cap on the KY jelly popped and the cold gel coated my pucker. I caught my breath.
I tried not to resist, I really did, but it's a primal reaction, and I tried to breathe in and out, to relax, to accept her needs, but it wasn't quite working. She felt it too and stroked my back and breathed with me.
"I need this." she whispered.
"I know." I replied, hoping she heard my smile in my voice, "I know."
That was all it took, a little interaction, a personal connection, and I pressed back into her and she pressed deeply into me. It wasn't my first time, it wasn't our first time, but that stretch and sting never went away 100%. She pressed her troubles into me and I let out a long sigh and took it until I felt to cold base and the soft leather straps that held it to her.
I know she was impaled at the same time. I know what she likes, and I know she was as full as me.
"Tell me." I said, giving her permission to share why she grabbed this particular toy.
"Not now." She grunted in response as she found a rhythm and we adjusted to fit each other's needs.
The rhythm was steady, she stayed deep, so I know that it was deep for her too.
I gave in to her pacing and pushed back and felt my cock swell and twitch and drip.
The pain was transcendent and her voice as she climaxed pushed me over the edge and long ropes of cum marked the dark blue of the mat. She kept thrusting as a 2nd wave washed over her.
My knees quivered as I tried to stay in position, connected, breathing as one, sweaty, sticky, spent.
She put her hand on my lower back, pressed down and pulled out. It reminded me of pulling and arrow out of a hay bale target and I laughed. Rolling on to my back, I watched her unbuckle the straps. She leaned forward and took my cock in her mouth for just a moment, stealing a taste, savoring the afterglow.
She kneeled beside me and stroked my chest as I ran my fingertips up and down her arm.
"Thank you" she said and leaned in to kiss me gently.
I kissed her whispering lips and then her forehead.
"I'm glad we are neighbors," she said.
