Crimson Crossing – Stories in Erotica


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Our workouts typically end around the same time. During the fall and winter months it means a lengthy period before daybreak. She routinely glanced in my direction in various forms throughout the passing months. More times than not I understood her intentions. A mere break of a smile expressed that I enjoyed her behavior. The morning it materialized was different. From her gear to her mannerism, she became shrewdly provocative.

As customary, the first few members to arrive spent their time engaged in conversation in the locker-room prior to kicking off their muscular development. I had just finished the very first repetitions of my workout when I turned around to be shocked by it; her thoroughness overtook my intentions to sweat, to pound and beat my physique. Now I desired to exhaust my anatomy in diverse and unrelated manners than those done through steel-plates . I became unable to explain the sight, though I finally understood the reason for the creation of Eva in biblical stories. The mortal sin would have been not to create her, rather than consuming an apple.

Her slight perspiration indicated that she’d been the envy of female joggers minutes before; the apex to middle-age men’s cyclic monotony. She was tightly wrapped in grey, as if meticulously chiseled with godly instruments. The curves, indentations and innuendos uplifted my immoralities. My sight pierced through her clothing taking captive each encountered delight! There I carved sins upon each and every turn that confronted me. The details bestowed upon this woman persuaded holiness to derail… I was comforted in thinking.

As my cognitive process shuffled back into alignment, she appeared to walk in my direction. The closer the approach, to stronger my varicose system palpitated. Still obfuscated, I failed to decipher her words. Had not it been for the ability of my primordial, and animalistic sense to sustain life even in the face of emotional or rational meltdown, my vision wouldn’t have followed her. I become a witness to the motion created by vibration when foot placement antecedes another. I contemplated while she constructed fantasies of hidden pleasures upon visible terrain. It took a mere gaze over the shoulder to translate her intentions. I followed the lure preceding my departure. Up the stairs she goes, slowly, savoring each step as if a well prepared cuisine. I read her form until it became difficult to order. At the moment my right hand reached for her shoulder, she turned, nabbed it midway its journey, and pushed it towards her right flank, slowly pressing it hard and southward bound. She continued walking backwards until her body collided with a vehicle opaqued by the absence of light. Our bodies stroke against one another; she felt me, I hers. Breadths hit one another and lips waged into conflict.

Time for chit chatter was neglected, time for romance ignored, she pushed the bottom of my gym attire against the floor, hers pursued… She felt engorged, heated, moistened, in need of taming. Her hair strands intertwined my fingers, and I pull her head back, shoving her up against the window of the vehicle. Her gluteus pressed against the window firming the ground I was about to break. I stole the moment and pushed through, nothing impeded my progress, and instead the moisture eased the entry into a splash of bodies. Her nails sunk into my back, the harder she squeezed the stronger the collision between our bodies responded.

Time failed to pass when I released her from my constant thrust. She placed her feet on the ground, I turned her around and pushed her legs together. Her bare torso now pressed against the vehicle. I cared little what, where, and how she might have desired to proceed. It was difficult at first but success was mine, her walls pressed against me sending me to unfathomable delights. My lap pressed against her roundness, she sigh to each driving force, refusing to release me each time I retracted. Individual collisions of our bodies lifted her off the floor, forcing moans from her lips. Sudor trickled from her upper body leaving salty residue on my body. The indulgence continued disregarding the failing of darkness. Neither she, nor I cared about the sight of exposed bodies that consummate the art of intimacy. The thrusts and vocal depictions climaxed before they dwindled. She valiantly pushed against the vehicle increasing the velocity in which I met her and she engulfed me.

As she came she departed, panting she walked away waving, carrying her gray attire, hair in revolt, voluptuousness coloured by the events colliding against her. She waved, spoke, and drove away…

Author: jibarican

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