My body heats from the inside out, warming what was frozen as blood floods to my core creating an ache I’ve never had before.
“You’re here,” he cheers, his bright smile turning to a frown as he takes in my shivering body and flushed face. My face flushing from the wind, cold and the hotness standing before me.
Rushing to me he starts to undress me, removing my gloves and coat. Dropping to his knees he removes my boots and socks. What is with this man and his penchant for removing my clothing?
“I c-c-can’t stand here with no s-socks on, it’s too c-cold,” I stutter, shivering. Rubbing his hands up and down my arms, he’s trying to heat my skin. He’s heating me—just not in the way he’s trying. My skin is still frozen on the surface but inside is a tumultuous blend of want, lust and a building need.
My panties soak inside my cold pants. If I walked outside right now they would freeze to my pussy.
There’s an emergency room nightmare. Yes, Doctor, I need my underwear surgically removed because I was presented with a male Adonis and I soaked my panties with my vaginal fluid in freezing temperatures and now they are frozen to my body, I smile at the thought.
He’s pulling me somewhere, I’m sure he told me where but I was too caught up in my ER tragedy to realize what he said. Seeing lockers, benches, and showers I notice we’re in the women’s locker room.
“Here take a hot shower and warm up,” he demands turning the knobs in one of the shower stalls.
A hot shower sounds wonderful to my frozen skin, “T-thank you, a shower sounds great.”
He’s still standing in front of me, smiling I tell him, “I can’t get in unless you get out.”
Shifting his eyes, “Oh yes, sure. I-I’ll go get on the treadmill,” he stutters spinning on his heel, making a hasty exit. With the shape of his phenomenally tight round ass, watching him leave is almost as good as his entrance.
Stripping down as fast as I can, I step under the hot spray, the water feels like needles hitting my chilled skin. As I thaw, thoughts of Kohl shirtless and glistening consumes my brain, my clit begins to throb and my nipples harden into diamond peaks.
A foreign feeling builds in my lower abdomen, a fire fills my veins. The desire to be touched, teased and pleased is too great. Running my hands down my body I’m shocked at the pleasure that spikes when my palms graze my engorged, sensitive nipples. Letting the heightened sensations lead me, I knead the flesh, an image of his large hands massaging, caressing me. Trailing my hand down my belly, tentatively rubbing the part throbbing between my folds, moaning when my fingers lightly graze my engorged clit. Gasping on a moan at the bliss traveling through my veins and the tightening in my lower belly.
I’ve never masturbated before, never felt the need to. My one sexual experience being less than stellar making me believe orgasms were all hype and no substance, I never experimented with myself.
Thinking of Kohl’s massive fingers entering me while my own slip inside, my knees weaken forcing me to place a hand on the wall to hold myself up. Plunging one then two fingers in and out picturing his blue eyes heated with lust. Sounds leaving me I’ve never heard before, suddenly my belly tightens an insatiable itch burns in my clit prompting me to rub it with my thumb. I detonate, fireworks exploding behind my closed eyes leaving my body limp.
Once my legs solidify, I rinse my off, realizing I don’t have a towel. Turning off the water I peek my head out of the curtain hoping there is a stack of towels somewhere in the room. I’m stunned when I notice Kohl is standing with a towel in one hand and cupping his dick in the other. Palming himself over his shorts, his eyes squinted, tightly closed, his head tipped back as his hand rubs up and down over his satin basketball shorts. I can see the outline of his cock straining hard against the fabric, the pink engorged tip sticking out just above the waist band of his shorts. His face is a combination of ecstasy and pain.
Ducking back in the shower, taking a breath to control the urge to replace his hand with mine hoping he didn’t hear what I did but a small piece of me hoping he did and that’s why he is out there holding himself.
I yell out like I don’t know he’s there, “Kohl, I need a towel,” I shout.
Without a word, a white little towel appears through the curtain. Drying off in the stall, I peek out again to make sure he’s gone, he is. Coming out, I slip my pants and shirt back on leaving off my wet underwear. I notice a pair of black socks sitting on the bench. He brought me socks, I think with a smile.
John Cougar’s Hurt So Good is blaring through the speaker when I enter the weight area. Now there’s an accurate song for the moment.
He’s covered in sweat, droplets running down his chest while he pulls down a ton of weight attached to the lateral pull bar. Another rush of desire pools between my legs. Great, now the crotch of my pants is wet. I need to find an outlet for this issue. Something that will work off some of this sexual frustration.
“Can you show me how to use some of this stuff?” I asked waving a hand toward the machines.
His eyes meet mine, filled with blue fire darkening to the point of storm clouds, “You want to work out?”
“I’m kind of itchy in my skin right now and I need to work out some aggression,”
