Must Love Jogs

by Xavier Neal

  Blake pulls back, my change in demeanor more apparent than I realize. He holds my eyes as well as my body hostage. “Angel, do you actually want this or do you just think it’s what you should want?”

  “I want this.”

  “Then trust me,” he commands, tone leaving no room to counter.

  Once I nod, Blake completely takes over. He rolls himself on top and begins whirling his tongue against the hot spot on my neck. A sweet sigh parts my lips as well as my legs. His dedication to devouring me seems ceaseless by the way he continues to consume every inch of me possible. The feeling of his mouth traveling my skin pushes me closer to the edge inch by inch. By the time we’re both naked and his dick is covered with a condom from the box I brought, I know it won’t take much to make me explode even with the pending pain I’m certain is coming.

  He adjusts himself so his head is on the pillows and begins to pull me on top of him. Sensing the objection coming, he leans up, and locks our lips back together to prevent it. Blake leads me with his tongue and guides me into his lap where he wants me. His cock pierces my pussy, yet he keeps our mouths locked tightly until he’s settled inside.

  Blake pulls back and my forehead rests firmly against his. Through the panting he instructs, “Just…Take a moment to get adjusted.”

  My pussy squeezes at the intrusion, uncertain whether to welcome or banish it despite my brains insistence of greeting it with love. It feels different. Unusual. Exciting yet terrifying. The muscles contract again thoughtlessly and the action receives what sounds like an uncomfortable groan.

  “You okay?” I whisper.

  He nods, but doesn’t open his eyes. “Feels…good.”

  The racing of my heart increases. “And that’s bad?”

  “Too good,” his poor explanation piques my interest.

  This time, I intentionally squeeze my pussy tighter, the sound now more delectable. “What’s too good?”

  Blake latches his hands onto my lower hips and meets my gaze. “You’re messin’ with me? Now?”

  As soon as I nod, he falls backwards, draws his cock back and thrusts it upward slightly harder and slightly deeper. Initially I gasp, the bite of pain almost instantly tipped over to pleasure. He holds me in place and repeats the action sharply. The punishment for misbehaving feels mistakenly like a reward.

  My nails cut into his biceps at the same time I moan loudly, “Oh God…”

  His hungry groan rattles in his chest. “So tight…”

  I smile with certainty that’s a good thing.

  Blake suddenly relinquishes his harsh grip and I find myself preparing to request its return. “Your turn…”

  I let my eyes lift open in question.

  “You take control, Angel.”

  My mouth starts to move.

  “Ride me…Find what feels good.”

  The invitation doesn’t feel like one I should deny. I widen my legs into a better position, which receives another pleased groan. Slowly, I begin to drift back and forth, the action engaging my clit in a very gratifying way. I moan through the experience, coming quicker than anticipated. My orgasm burns through me and begs Blake’s to join it, yet he grits his teeth to assist in his refusal. After a few deep breaths, I attempt another series of movements, these deeper than the last. For what feels like hours, Blake lets me bounce, grind, and sway with his cock’s full compliance. Each time I choose to change positions or speed, he simply groans his acceptance. The delicious difference in so many feelings from just the slightest difference has my mind spinning out of control towards another climax. When I finally return to the original motion I started with, he adds the smallest amount of pressure to my clit with his thumb. My entire body bows and I move faster in desperation to feel it again. Blake’s cock swells widening me further, creating not only a new sense of being filled, but a new feeling of commitment. His breathing becomes ragged as his entire body strains underneath the relentless rocking. The quivering in my pussy passes the point of no return, granting the orgasm I was trying to suppress, permission to flourish in full. My head falls back on a cry of Blake’s name loud enough to shake the entire room. Unable to resist any longer, he joins me, filling the moment with proclamations of love alongside his groans. He shifts back up to a sitting position, and we reunite our mouths with only the need to breathe in each other. His arms engulf me the same way his love does. I release one last sigh and accept the simple truth of why I waited so long. This moment wasn’t meant for anyone else. I’m not meant for anyone else. Just him.

  I use the edge of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my forehead.

  It’s surprising how the sun isn’t even up yet and I’m sweating like it’s the middle of a summer day instead of a late spring morning.

  Leaning against the elevator wall, I smile at my rapidly racing heart and the extra soreness in my muscles.

  Having Abby last night was better than any work out I’ve ever had. Hell, it’s better than any other sex I’ve ever had. I always thought it was a corny thing people just said about sex being better when you’re in love, but they were right. It’s so much better when the person on top of you or underneath you is there because they only want you in and out of bed. It’s so much sexier when they call your name because they belong to you and you belong to them. The possession is powerful. Intoxicating all on its own. Watching her reactions as she discovered an entire new world, as she let me be the guide for it was enough to make me nearly come within seconds of starting. I deserve a damn plaque for the patience my dick found every time we went at it.

  The doors ding open and grant me access to our floor. When I enter our room, I expect to see her still passed out beneath the sheets where I left her, however she has one wrapped around her body and is standing on the balcony.

  My lips press together to suppress the moan I was about to free.

  She’s so goddamn beautiful. Between the glow from coming and the glow from being in love, she looks like a literal angel who happened to fall into my bed. My bed. My life. If dropping down to one knee wasn’t the most insane idea, I would’ve been there last night the second we walked into the hotel room and her eyes filled with adoration I’ve never known before her. I love the way she looks at me like I’m the only one who understands her, like I’m the only one who can truly make her smile with more than just her lips. She makes me feel like a goddamn champion and that is something I secretly waited my whole life to feel like.

  I shed my shoes, cross the room, and wrap my arms around her waist. She hums her approval as my head lands on her shoulder. “You’re supposed to be asleep, Angel.”

  “So are you…”

  Both of us really. After we had sex for a couple of hours, we ate the cheesecake, and went back at it again. I had only been asleep for maybe an hour when I got up to squeeze a run in. Normally, I jog to clear my mind, find my center, and take care of my body. This morning, I wanted to breathe in the fresh air, reflect on how happy I am, and convince myself once more it would be insane to propose to her four months in. I had to push myself to run to the point my mind could barely fathom more than pumping oxygen to the areas that desperately needed it. However, now that I’m back here, with her back in my arms again, the desire to make her mine on a more permanent note has returned. Eddie did it. Why can’t I?

  “You went jogging,” Abby comments, bringing me out of my own head. “Without me.”

  I smile against the skin I’m kissing. “You should really be too sore from sex or we didn’t do it right.”

  She snickers to herself. “I am plenty sore, trust me. Not even sure how I’ll ever pick up a bow again.”

  My mouth lands briefly on hers. “You’ll figure out a way when we get home. I’m positive.”

  All of a sudden her expression shifts to one of nervousness. “How would you feel if it was actually our home?”

  My eyebrows lift in question.

  “Like if instead of having some of your stuff there, you had all of your stuff there.”

&
nbsp; “Angel, are you askin’ me to move in with you?”

  She purses her lips together for a brief moment and the action has my chest constricting in anticipation. “It makes the most sense. You’re there all the time anyway.”

  “Which when you say it in that tone sounds like a burden.”

  Abby realizes the curtness of her infliction and starts chuckling, a sound that sounds almost as divine as her screams.

  “You want us to live together or is this somethin’ you think people should just do after they’ve dated this long?”

  “I want us to live together,” she declares with such strength it stirs my cock. “I want it to be our home. The place where our friends come over. The place where our families visit. A place decorated in our things and our photos.”

  A grin immediately pops onto my face.

  Not quite marriage, but definitely the next, much more logical, step.

  “Yes?” She rushes to get her answer. “Is the smile a yes?”

  I nod quickly. “Does this mean you’ll let me drink something other than cappuccinos in the mornings?”

  “No.”

  “What if I bring my own coffee maker?”

  “Still no.”

  “There’s room on the counter for both.”

  “Should I be regretting this decision already?”

  We exchange another laugh and a quick playful kiss. Afterward, I nod my head towards where the sun is beginning to peak through the clouds. With my lips next to her ear, I whisper, “Our first sunrise…”

  She relaxes once more into my touch. “It is…”

  In a sweet silence we engage in what feels like a cherry on top of our list of firsts.

  I’m starting to realize for me, it’s more important who becomes my last.

  The high from all the changes carelessly crashes into the insatiable need to have her moaning for me again. I slowly back up towards the open balcony doors, tugging her along with me. As soon as we’re inside, I maneuver her body to be back behind it and bend her over the arm of the couch. Abby glances over her shoulder showing me the heat in her gaze. She wiggles her ass in offering and the sound that escapes me isn’t anything human. My hands tug free the sheet to expose a vision I will never get tired of seeing. Her smile becomes devilish and her hips start to sway once more in a teasing manner. I let my chuckle grow into a groan of excitement to be back inside of her. Swiftly, I grab one of the condoms from the coffee table, cover my cock, and nudge her legs wider apart.

  Abby begins to turn her face away, which is when I command, “Watch, Angel.”

  She lowers her attention to where my dick is sliding past the slick entrance of her pussy. The sharp breath she intakes causes the muscles to clench and my bottom lip to wedge itself between my teeth. Her eyes squeeze shut and her head falls forward, instantly lost to the deep thrusts. I don’t bother with dragging the moment out. I dive to the hilt each time and grin at the rhythmic bouncing we immediately establish. Abby continues to moan softly while my hands drag themselves down her sides, becoming entranced by every shiver she makes.

  It’s not like this is the first time I’ve had sex or the first time I’ve had sex with her, yet every time I slip inside I feel like the virgin ready to fall victim to experiencing something too incredible to resist.

  I give Abby’s full ass a good squeeze and she pushes back into it as if requesting more. I repeat the action, before giving it the smallest tap.

  “Blake,” she cries out louder, voice trembling.

  With a cocky grin, I question, “You liked that, didn’t you?”

  When she doesn’t reply, I do it again, receiving a scream of approval and an unexpected orgasm. The feeling of her pussy pulsating threatens to yank an orgasm out of me long before I’ve had enough. Wet heat whirls mercilessly around my dick begging for it to succumb to the tantalizing trembles. I shut my own eyes and resist the urge to fall victim to coming undone. All of a sudden, Abby’s quivers subside, and she brazenly bumps back against me. Having her meet me blow for blow swells my cock as much as my chest. My girlfriend’s desire to satisfy herself along with her determination to get from me what I always get from her sends my mind barreling towards the orgasm I’m fending off. I thrust viciously, sweat dripping down the sides of my neck while I squeeze my brow together. Abby’s pussy starts to feverishly squeeze so tight my breath hitches. Another rush of wetness drowns my cock and I surrender. We come in a knee buckling unison while my heavy groans clash against her vibrant cries to create our own orgasmic orchestra.

  Abby topples over the edge of the couch and I blanket her body.

  Her bleary eyes meet mine. “I love you.”

  I sweetly push the hair out of her face. “I love you too, Angel.”

  No matter what lies ahead between us that fact will never change.

  I drop onto the edge of our bed beside my gym bag, muscles still throbbing in objection.

  “This…was…the…worst…gift….”

  Blake rips off his t-shirt, dries the sweat off his neck with it, and playfully says, “My birthday. Shouldn’t I decide that?”

  Still shifting to find a more comfortable position, I shake my head.

  He laughs loudly and I let the sound distract from the agony.

  It’s not like this is the first or second week we’ve been jogging together. Ever since the first time, we’ve created our own pattern that I hate to admit I enjoy. Some mornings we jog together while listening to classical music, some evenings we jog together before dinner while listening to pop music, and now, since I gave him a gym membership for his birthday, we can jog together at lunch time when I have early rehearsal. The activity brings out a supportive side of Blake that I absolutely adore. Between his encouraging looks and praises of my progress, it’s made what I used to envision being a nightmare, a fun journey. Sometimes we jog down to the small park where there’s ducks. Sometimes we jog to the tennis courts, epically fail at playing a game neither of us understand, and jog back. Other times it’s just a route around a couple blocks. The variations of time and direction, keep it from becoming stale, and the sexy showers afterward keep our heart rate up past the basic calorie burning levels.

  “Now,” he stalks my direction, “shouldn’t we move onto my favorite thing we do after a good run?”

  I bite my bottom lip to keep the moan at bay.

  As much as I want to blame our insatiable appetite on me being new to the sex world, I remember how constant we were when it was just hands and tongues. I’m starting to believe it doesn’t matter how much or how often we go at any of it, neither of us will ever get enough. That’s probably a good thing. Probably makes for a healthy sex life.

  Blake’s lips feather my neck only seconds before my cell phone begins to ring.

  “Need to answer that,” I whimper between his nips on my neck.

  “It can wait,” he challenges, thumb now grazing my nipple. “It’s my birthday.”

  If it were almost anyone else, yes, but I have been steadily avoiding hers for far too long.

  I push him off with a sweet smirk. “It’s my mother.”

  His face contorts to one of understanding. “I’ll go get our shower started then…”

  “Thank you.” Quickly I dig out the device from the bag and answer the call, “Hello.”

  “Good afternoon, Mable.”

  “Good afternoon, Mother.”

  “I’m quite surprised you answered,” she states with a bit of irritation in her voice. “I have become accustom to your voicemail.”

  I grimace.

  Not answering her and my father’s calls has mitigated a huge amount of stress from my life. I have spent the majority of my existence with them looming over my shoulder, judging every decision I make, and reminding me to ‘think about my future’ that it never occurred to me how at peace I might be with a little distance between us. They’re my parents. I love them, but they make it a bit difficult for me to love myself. Hell, they make it difficult for me to like myse
lf or the person I wanted to become.