Sunday, March 10, 2013

Sex with a Triathlete

I shared with you last fall that Steve was a competitive triathlete. Those of you who have ever been involved with triathlons know the commitment to training and discipline that are required to participate in such a demanding sport, let alone be competitive. Having participated in a few myself in 2005, I knew exactly what was involved, but Steve was at a completely different level.

He was in amazing condition, not only for a man in his 60's but for a man of any age. A "short" run for him was a 10K. A century bike ride was pure fun for him and a 20 mile ride was a quick lunchtime workout. And after these intense workouts, he'd go back to work or get on with other responsibilities, errands, etc. He was one of those people with almost no body fat and whose every muscle was clearly defined.

Yeah.  Wow.

We had met several times for coffee and once for lunch before we got together privately.  He was an old school gentleman,  No sex on the first (or second, or third, or fourth) date.  I used to poke fun at him about that because, in my experience, the rules are a bit different in the infidelity world, but it was really important to him that I know that he genuinely cared about me.  It was very sweet.

By the time we did meet for some intimate activity, I was ready.  He was ready.  We were both ready.

He was already in the room when I arrived at the hotel. He texted me the room number and I headed toward the elevator to go up. I was struck with a bout of nervousness in the elevator, almost out of the blue.  It didn't make any sense to me because we had been together and talked so much that I was very comfortable with him, but I was nervous nonetheless.

When I got to the room, I knocked on the door and waited. No answer.  I checked my phone for the text he sent.  Did I have the right room?  Yes, I did.  I knocked again.

This time he answered.  My nervousness melted away when I saw the big smile on his face. He reached out his hand and I took it. He gently pulled me into the room and closed the door behind me.  Then he kissed me - a long, deep, passionate kiss that seemed to last forever.

Eventually, we moved further into the room and that's when I noticed why he was late answering the door. There were candles lit around the room and a bottle of sparkling cider in the ice bucket next to to two beautiful crystal glasses. Several vases of roses were placed around the room and there was a single red rose on the bed.

Yeah.  Wow.

While I've known some truly wonderful men and I've almost always been treated well, this was definitely not the way I was used to being treated by a lover. I'll admit it - it took my breath away.  I was speechless. Yes, me.  Speechless.

I suspect his plan was to talk a bit first, have a little sparkling cider, milk the romance for awhile, but that's not how it went down. We sat down on the edge of the bed and started kissing again and before I knew it, the gentleman was gone, and clothes were coming off and being tossed aside quickly.

We stretched out on the bed and his hand found my pussy and started rubbing my clit. It felt electric. I flinched and squealed a bit which made him smile into our kiss. He had been kissing me the whole time that  we had been undressing so I still hadn't really seen him yet.  Every time I reached for his cock, he shifted away. I had no idea what that was about but I couldn't think about it for long because I was just about ready to cum. Just as I started to shudder, he stopped.  WTF??!!???

He told me to get on my hands and knees. I flipped. I was ready, hoping he wouldn't dilly dally too long.

He entered me slowly. Very, very slowly. My jaw dropped. I gasped.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

I was speechless again. I just nodded. The he started slowly fucking me with long, deep strokes.

I'd never been asked before if I was ok when a man entered me, but it was obvious to me why he asked.   Steve had the biggest cock I'd ever experienced. 10" and very, very thick. I came on about the fifth stroke.

He asked if I could take more, take it harder. All I said was, "Yes," but I was thinking, "Is the Pope Catholic?  Bring it on!"

For the next 50 minutes, Steve proceeded to fuck me, sometimes hard and fast, sometimes slow and sensuously. Sometimes he'd play with my clit, too.  Sometimes not. He moved from my pussy to my mouth to ass and back again. I think we changed positions every five minutes or so.

I came five more times. I was honestly amazed at his stamina and control. That's when I understood the special advantages of being with a triathlete - stamina and discipline. He could control his body like no one I'd ever met.

He chose the missionary position and looked into my eyes when he finally came. It was intense. He lingered for a minute or so, kissing me, before he pulled out and collapsed onto the bed next to me.

I looked over at him at got my first really good look at him. I traced my fingers over the muscles on his arms and his abs.  He was definitely chiseled.  His huge cock was still partially hard. As I looked at him and remembered how amazing he was over the last hour, I thought, "What the hell is wrong with his wife???"  Exceptionally nice guy, genuinely good and kind man, amazing body, a cock that most women would do just about anything to have inside them at least once, generous in bed, and able to go and go and go like the energizer bunny. Seriously, it made no sense to me why a woman would not want to have sex with this man.

Anyway, we relaxed in bed, kissing and talking. He filled me in on his upcoming race schedule.  I was planning to go watch, but I'd have to be careful because his wife would be there, too. No problem. We talked about his business and mine. We checked the clock to make sure we didn't let time get away from us because we both had to get back to work, and we were pleasantly surprised that we still had another hour to spend together.

Then Steve smiled and said, "Wanna go again?"


Tom said...

Wow. I feel a little, um, inadequate right now.

This reminds me of that old joke about the woman who asks her brother, "Don't have a nice friend you can set me up with? I'm not asking for much... just someone handsome, rich, funny, loves to cook, in great shape..."

"Sis, if I find a guy like that, I'll marry him!"

cammies on the floor said...

My husband will support disabled athletes in triathalons. He's in amazing shape, and swimming is something he prides himself on.
So imagine his surprise when a twelve year old kid, who he was spotting for the swimming portion, kicked his butt in the ocean.It's amazing what training can do for someone.
"You got beat by a twelve year old?"
"Yes, but he had a flipper."
"'A' as in one?"
Sheepish now, he said, "yes, he only had one leg."
Glad you got a guy who trained regularly, they're fierce.

Lola said...

"He moved from my pussy to my ass to my mouth" - gives new meaning to the term "triathlete." Sounds like fun!!!

Kat said...

Tom - Ha! Very cute. And there's no need to feel inadequate. It's not *all* about size, ya know.

Cammies - That's a great story. And blessings on your husband for doing such good work. What a difference it would make if everybody made an effort to give of themselves like that.

Lola - Haha! Very cute! That hadn't even occurred to me.

Coltrane88 said...

WOW!! Sounds hot!! have been with some men in terrific shape but haven't seen many demonstrate that kind of talent and control. :-)

All About Love And Sex said...

LOL ! Steve maybe on thyroids!