MLK Weekend Action
I try to stay in shape, I love exercise, fitness, I can't stand sitting still or being idle. Okay, I try to hold still while on the receiving end of oral pleasure, but you guys know my body is usually in motion of some kind even then. Or slamming my firm, tanned sexy ass back against the groin of the wonderful man fucking me from behind, that kind of motion. Or synching my finger/hand strokes of a hard, excited cock with my mouth bobbing up and down, my lips being smeared with precum and feeling my lover's blood boil (and his spunk gets boiling, too!).
Whew. So yes, I like to be active. Including as a lover.
And keeping myself fit is what I enjoy.
So January can be a bit frustrating. My gym, like most, is full of "tourists", that is, out of shape folks who are kidding themselves about a New Year's resolution and joined a gym, then go for a few weeks in January, maybe last into February, then they get frustrated, hungry, tired, or injured and quit. Happens every year. I'm not pointing any fingers. One guy last year booked three appointments with me each week in January. I called him my "New Year's Bonus". Much, much for frequently than ever before.
I asked Mr. Three times a week, "So, Danny, what gives, this is such a flattering frequency, getting to see you so often. Win the lottery?" (Was that a rude question? I hope not.)
He answered, "No, Dolly, just that you're my New Year's resolution -- I need physical activity, something to get my heart beating faster, for cardio purposes, several times a week, and I'd rather "do" you to get my blood pumping than do anything else. Any other exercise I'd end up quitting, but I could never quit you.
Awwww. "Flattery will get you everywhere, dear boy," I told Danny.
Then he hurt his back trying to do something kind of acrobatic with me. Damn it. It was only the end of the first week, appointment #3 of twelve that I had booked with him.
This blog entry is not about Danny boy.
This blog entry is about Robert Rokeach. The "keech-ster" was his nickname. Not particularly muscular, but friendly and seems to know everyone in the gym. Does classes, some treadmill and elliptical, varies between free weights and the Cybex machines. There's a pool, he swims laps. His nickname is "the Mayor".
BTW, as a recovering Triathlete (meaning I no longer compete, but I still love all the components, the bike, the swim, the run), I've been in the lap pool with Mayor Robert, next lane over, and chatted with him on the pool deck. Speedo-wearing kind of guy, the Mayor. Oy! Not an impressive package, but with so much skin showing, you really can't fake your fitness then. He's sixty-ish, so not everything is where it used to be, some things have sagged a bit, but all in all....
"I'd fuck him."
That wasn't me saying that. That was my slutty spin class friend, Heidi. "Divorced and Loving It!" is her motto. Won't fuck any man under age seventy. Wants them on Viagra to make the dick stand up, and wants them widowed and looking to impress her. "I'm in the sweet spot, Dolly," Heidi explained to me. These guys are seventy and up, horny and lonely, retirees in South Florida with money to spend. If they were closer with their children and grandchildren, they'd spend more time with them. But they're not, they're with me. Most of their late wives didn't fuck them much, either in the later years or maybe ever. I'm forty-seven -- I'm young enough to be their daughter, I'm young enough to still be pretty fit even if I'm not in my twenties, and these guys know that the only way they'll get a twenty something to fuck them is to pay retail for escorts, so I'm their best option."
Okay, Heidi doesn't know about my Dolly dates. And if she thinks only twenty-somethings get top dollar, well, she's wrong, since I'm past my twenties (ahem!) and still fit and sexy and have great demand for Dolly dates from gents age seventy and up. Even the ones who claim to be ten years younger than they really are. (Guys! What, you don't think I've got connections to do some quick and dirty background checks to keep everyone safe? Its okay, you don't have to lie to me about your ages, but if it makes you happy, then making you happy is what I'm about. Though that poor guy last week who looked like the grandfather at the dinner table in "Talladega Nights- The Legend of Ricky Bobby" yet he claimed he was fifty.)
But getting back to Heidi, who I'd do, truth be told (sure, she's a tramp and sometimes embarrassingly so, but she's doing it for sex and gifts and to fill her idle time with entertainment, and she'd never hurt anyone and I've seen her donate not just money to causes but her time, as well), she just randomly says, "I'd do 'the Mayor'".
Which got me thinking.
So would I.
So there I was in a gym filled with fitness tourists, not long for the gym but still clogging up the workout spaces, and needing to find a way to get up close and personal with the Mayor.
"Think he'd do us both, Heidi?"
I swear, I instantly saw fire in her eyes, diamond-like hardness in her nipples, and smelled arousal from her. And we were both forty-five sweaty minutes into a spin class.
"You're on!" she said. Didn't even wink or smirk. She was already running through the sexual components of what would go on among the three of us, I could see her thinking.
"Um, Hello, Heidi? Miss "Cart Before the Horse"? Gotta get him to buy into this idea and you're already plotting what to do without any idea if he's into us?"
"Oh, he's into us."
"And you know this how?" I asked.
"The Mayor told me he wants to "do" you. On more than one occasion."
I was stunned. I hadn't really gotten beyond a superficial, "Hey there" with him. "When did he tell you that?'
"Most recently? Over a green shake at the smoothie bar last week. You were doing solo yoga on that mat, near us. The gold one piece that gets everyone who sees you in it wet, that's what you were wearing."
Ah, yes, I knew the outfit. Hell, it even gets ME wet.
"Everyone, Heidi?" I asked with a raised eyebrow?
"Uh huh." She replied in a shameless voice. "Every-fucking-one. All of us."
She said "us".
I already told you, I'd fuck Heidi. What, you think a sex'd up horny broad like me is immune to one of So Fla's leading Cougars? Silly men. Sexy is sexy. And she was going to get me the Mayor while I was going to get both the Mayor and Heidi.
Suddenly the extra waiting time to get a free cycle, treadmill, Stairmaster, yoga mat, set of kettle bells, it all seemed worth it. I was going to have a mini-new year's orgy.
So I made sure to cross paths with "Mayor" Rokeach more often, waiting to be next to use a piece of equipment, choosing a path that crossed right by where he was working, and a couple times giving my most intimidating evil eye to everyone who would dare to start setting up near me in the minutes before a class, and then as the Mayor walked in a minute late (because, naturally, he was schmoozing everyone on his way into the class studio), I could waive over to him and indicate that there was an available spot next to me.
I made sure I spent a few extra minutes to look good, to entice the Mayor even more. Briefly felt bad that I'd become one of the gym queens, the ladies who show up made up like they're the homecoming queen or prom queen, shamelessly using the gym for getting a guy instead of getting in shape. But only briefly. See, men are doing the same thing, and they don't have to put on makeup. And of course, when I'm the target, well, I like men, you'd be surprised how often the answer is 'Yes" when I'm propositioned by a guy who thinks its a "Hail Mary" attempt to ask me for coffee when what he really wants is a blowjob. Being nice goes a long way.
"You know, Dolly, you've really been good to the ol' Keechster, saving me a space lately for classes, I ought to make it up to you sometime. There's a wonderful new Cubano-Asian fusion place near Brickell that has been in the blogs lately, its called "Chico and Chang", or something like that, maybe we could both try it out, would you join me for dinner after a class, my treat
By the way, I found that invite to dinner from "the ol' Keechster" to be lovely, in spite of him referring to himself not only by his non-Mayoral nickname but in the third person as well.
"Robert," I replied with a smile, "that's so not necessary, but it’s so funny that you mention Chico and Chang's, I was just talking about going there with my friend Heidi. You know Heidi, don't you, Heidi Abramowitz?"
Which was a lie. Heidi and I had never talked about any restaurant. But I was darn near as eager to fuck Heidi as the Mayor was to fuck me.
We decided that dinner would take place on the Sunday evening of the MLK weekend. A quiet night, lots of folks staying in, or going to sports bars to watch football playoffs. Not too many nosy busy bodies watching.
I wore a very tight, revealing dress that showed off my ass, legs, and tits. Okay, and it was sleeveless because my arms were showing some nice yoga results. I'm usually not much for lots of makeup but a few extra minutes on the eyes, lips and hair, and you could add "Me" to my list of "Heidi" and "The Mayor" of the people at our table I'd fuck. Yes, I'd fuck me. Sigh, such a slutty lady I can be at times, I know, and now here I was, getting horny for myself. Which made two of us when I saw Robert's eyes pop out of his head. His eyes never saw mine at any time that night. Heidi's either.
So there we were, a mess of Kung Pao, Stir Fried string beans, carnitas, pico de gallo, plantains, and chicken pot stickers. Corona and Sake as well. A cultural mish mash.
We were all toasty frisky after flirting, innuendo, needless touching as we fed each other and steadied ourselves with hands on bare thighs, fingers brushing tits, smirks, playful pecks on the lips...I wonder if the serious French kiss I planted on Heidi while I slid my hand up the Mayor's leg and squeezed his package through his trousers was beyond good taste? Calling Miss Manners.....
So we all poured into a black sedan UBER and went back to the Mayor's, who'd promised us dessert.
Or did we promise him that we'd be his dessert?
"Robert, you look so fucking good, God I wish I'd been with you New Year's Eve, my date could not rise to the occasion but you're so damn fit, I'll bet you're just the Everready Bunny, Silver Fox edition, aren’t you?"
Not revealing whether that was Heidi talking, or me.
Though how Heidi could have said it with her mouth filled with his tool, I can't imagine.
Oh this was an UBER ride to remember.
The Mayor simply passed a pair of hundred dollar bills up front and asked him to take some extra laps around the neighborhood, to keep the detour off the UBER records.
As I held Heidi's head, the better for the Mayor to fuck her mouth, his gray pubes hitting the corners or her bright red dick sucking lips, I locked my eyes on his.
"Robert, its so hot for you to be fucking my sexy friend's mouth right here, you're making me so wet, she's making me so wet...."
He had a very playful tongue I discovered as he cut off my sentence by kissing me.
Nice powers of concentration by slutty little Heidi, sucking this man's hard tool, gagging which was either from the cock going deeper than she'd bargained for, or the movement of the car forcing Robert's dick into her gag zone, or both, all the while twiddling my girl parts while my own fingers slid my thong to the side.
Heidi and I kissed the UBER driver when we finally indicated we were ready for delivery.
And that sweet driver never seemed upset that he just had to have been tasting the Mayor's cock on Heidi's lips.
Now, the Mayor having blown his ropes of seed into my girlfriend Heidi's mouth, and Heidi having swallowed much of it but having also snowballed me with some of the middle aged goo as well, we knew he needed time to ready himself again.
And we figured our mouths could get him there.
Felt almost like we were raping him the way we stripped that man as soon as his condo door closed.
Except most rape victims aren't saying, "oh yeah, baby, here, let me help you" as active participants in stripping themselves.
We practically tossed him onto his back. "You ladies have definitely made my night," he gasped...
I started sixty-nining with him. Because I'd slacked off removing his clothes while letting Heidi get the rest of his clothes off, and instead I dropped my dress, slipped out of my heels and slid my thong down my legs and stuck in in the Mayor's shoe. Souvenir.
For a split second I felt the Mayor's tongue on my dark hole, and then along my 'taint, and then along my well lubed slickened slit.
Except that a glance up showed him to be leaning back on his elbows, eyes closed, enjoying my mouth teasing every erotic nerve ending on his shaft, around the crown, anywhere a dick can be made to feel good.
Heidi had caught up, gotten nude (nice tits, darling, I told her later as we UBER'd home) and she was using that mouth of hers on me.
We should have warned Robert that given the angle and the force of my squirts....
But then he found out on his own.
I got him hard, then selflessly wrapped him while Heidi positioned herself to ride him.
I mounted his face, and then Heidi and I made out, sucking each other’s tongues and except for the minor detail of his condom-clad ccok in her shiny twat and his grateful tongue in mine, we barely remembered he was with us as our fingers played with each other's nipples, we kissed, we reached down to fiddle each other's fleshy pink pleasure nub....
God's name was mentioned, often. Various combinations of "holy fucking shit," "Jesus Fucking Christ", "Oh my fucking God", "God damnit, fuck me hard, yes just like that", and variations on "God, yes, oh, Gaaaawwwddd, yesssss, oh shit I'm cumming...." and every other combination of holy invocation and cuss word and announcement of orgasmic pleasure either approaching or arriving..... We were not using our sweet Kindergarten vocabulary, that was for sure. Among the positions I can remember:
The Mayor entered me from behind, with me standing but bent deeply over, while Heidi hunched down and serviced my puckering back door and the base of his nut sack.
Heidi was then on all fours, my legs on her shoulders, the Mayor driving it home into her from behind. His eyes were on mine. "How does my friend's pussy feel on your cock, Robert? Do you like how it feels to fuck her when her mouth is fucking my tight pussy? Can I taste your cock next, Robert, can I lick you after you fill her?"
That was a misnomer. He was filling a condom. But filling a condom doesn't sound dirty. Filling my MILFy slutty friend, that sounded dirty.
As we neared morning, after either some blackouts or naps, not sure which and certainly sure I didn't care then and that it doesn't matter now looking back, Heidi and I each took a turn doing a one on one, sensual, missionary, love-making style sexual intercourse session with Robert. So hot to see Heidi make herself totally his. So hot also to peek over and see Heidi twiddling herself, curling her toes and tweaking her own nipple and Robert's body and mine basically merged and we fuck-tango'd, our bodies moving together.
Poor sweet perverted dear that he is, couldn't keep it hard after about three, maybe four orgasms when I finally remembered to offer him my ass.
We showed, Heidi sucked, but he was out of cream for us kitty cats.
We'd missed the MLK parade when we awoke around Noon on Monday.
Heidi and I showered, then went at it with each other, fingers in each other's back doors, our tongues bringing the other's pussies to quivering climaxes, and then the best gift a sexy woman can give another, a deep, soft sweet kiss flavored like that lady's own pussy.
Which got the Mayor hard enough again that I could mount him, though he didn't maintain it and he went soft in me.
Heidi's mouth tried to help, and while he enjoyed her tongue, by then I was the only one to cum again from it.
More naps, but only kissing and fondling when we woke up again.
Heidi and I looked completely ridden hard and put away wet when we slipped back into Chico and Chang's, without Robert, and simply ordered some lo mein, figuring the noodles contained some carbs that might replace our strength.
My family merely rolled their eyes when I walked into the office of the family business on Wednesday, having slept straight through Tuesday, exhausted from the wild fucking I'd participated in. "We don't want to know," said my sister, sweetly. She winked. She's my best friend, and knows me well. She knew I'd tell her every last part in the steam after some yoga later in the week, when the men in my family were not around.
Heidi continues her pursuit of money'd sex partners. The Keechster and I have done some one on one work. As have Heidi and I.
But the three of us?
That was special. Not an everyday, or every weekend, or every couple of week type of thing.
But all of the people in my life, Heidi's life, and the Mayor's life, without being told the specifics, now know not to look for any of us on the day after the MLK holiday. Because we're all recovering from our celebration of freedom on the third weekend in January.
This year I'm told we missed a heck of a football game between the Packers and the Cowboys. Or did the Cowboys and the Packers miss a heck of a game at the Mayor's condo? Lots of action all the way around, I suppose.
Purely fictional fantasy for your reading pleasure!