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Well I’m Brandon James, I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name miss lady.’ ‘Cheyenne Cross.’ and with that her headphones went on. As her workout began I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. By the time I decided to call it quits I had a raging hard on that would have been visible from the front door of the establishment if it hadn’t been for the compression shorts I was wearing under my gym shorts. It had only been 15 minutes and my day at the gym was done. My head was spinning I had never yearned for a being so bad in my entire life. This was so uncharacteristic of me needless to say. On my way home I did nothing but think of this Cheyenne. Sadly all I had was a name and the lasting image of her working out, that made me hungrier than a prisoner on death row for some pussy. After showering and heating up some leftovers for dinner (yes I gets down in the kitchen) I went and sat on the balcony of my condo contemplating who I should visit to relieve my sexual tension. After about five or so. Slowly, he started to move back and forth. My knees went weak and I leaned harder against the shower wall for support. His hands rested on my large breasts and I felt my hard nipples slip between his fingers, aided by the warm water that was streaming down on us.He remained at a slow and steady pace, rocking in and out of me. I felt that familiar feeling starting to build. My breathing increased and I knew my orgasm was fast approaching. He then took my erect nipples between his fingertips and roughly pinched them. The semi-intense pain immediately sent me over the edge as I felt the waves of my orgasm wash over me. Involuntarily, my hands left the wall, and I felt his hands on my hips steadying me, which prevented me from falling. All the while he continued to slowly fuck me through my orgasm.Once he could see that I had control of my body again, he spoke in a low growl.“Put your hands back on the wall, Melanie.”While complying with his order, I felt him increase the pace. The water.
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’ She smiled again, and did something with her hand through her hair that made my heart jump a bit. She was just so sensual, everything she did just sent sexual signals, at least to my mind. I suddenly realised I had no brandy and apologised but said I had some scotch. ‘No thanks, wine will do for me; great meal by the way, thank you’ I suggested we move into the sitting room, which I had prepared by lighting the log stove, a couple of low lights, and a candle in the alcove beside the chimney breast. She uncoiled herself from the chair and stayed my hand as I started to clear the table. ‘We can do that later, I want to get to know you.’ I poured us both another glass of wine, then she led me by the hand to the sitting room where we sat facing each other, talking, discussing our lives, our families and our jobs. She admired some of the art I had acquired, and told me about her own interests. I was captivated by her. ‘Where’s the toilet?’ I told her where it was and she stood. As she.

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