Routine

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A couple of friends finally connect.
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As I feel the beginnings of my pussy exploding on Jamaal's face I can't release my fingers from Yvonne's thick afro. I can tell by her slowed movement that Jamaal's cum is filling her mouth as much as she will allow. With her right hand she is squeezing every last ounce of Jamaal out while her left hand squeezes my thigh in reaction to Daniel's deeper thrust into her own pussy. I wasn't sure if I was intentionally holding out for last place, but I knew I was ready to lose it when I finally made eye contact with Daniel as he shyly smiled at me before he erupted into his wife from behind. His moment of embarrassment was covered by Yvonne's curvaceous brown ass smacking repeatedly against his thighs. All at once I could feel Yvonne's full body orgasm as she swallowed my husband's cum and my husband's tongue lapping my clit repeatedly. I would have cum silently but I saw Daniel grinning at my erect nipples. He licked his lips and my thighs squeezed my husband's head like my pussy was going to inhale him.

How the fuck did we get here.

For ten years we'd known Yvonne and Daniel through our circle of friends. We'd bump into each other at dinner parties every now and again. I knew that he was an architect and she was a lawyer. They moved to the city around the same time we'd moved back from two years in Paris. Like many couples, we said should get together more often, but our paths never really crossed. Jamaal and I weren't necessarily a social couple, though we loved the dinner parties with our extended group of friends. But early on I knew we were a lot like Yvonne and Daniel.

I wasn't a lawyer, but I ran the IT department at a suburban law firm that often competed with Yvonne's downtown firm. We'd compare our office dynamics while we traded hair recipes. Her afro was tall and bouncy from years of care, while I had just decided to go natural with thick curls. Our kids would be starting high school around the same time, so we traded notes on public versus private.

Yvonne and I were both 5'9" and athletic so we thought we'd connect over one of the charity races our friends would enter. But we never ran in the same race because neither of us really ran.

On the other hand, Jamaal and Daniel saw each other almost every week at their weekly soccer or basketball game. About five or six of our husband's played at the rec center on Saturday morning's at 7AM. Jamaal would occasionally say that we should have dinner with Yvonne and Daniel after a Saturday morning game, but he'd also mention that he was going plan our families vacation every year. Neither ever happened.

I do remember bumping into Daniel downtown with the kids once. He looked out of place without Yvonne and their boys, I thought. I realized how similar to Jamaal he looked and wondered if Jamaal was somewhere looking as out of character as Daniel looked to me at that moment. Though Daniel was a shade darker than Jamaal, they had both shaved their heads and kept a clean shaven face. They were both manly in features and reserved in style.

But we never really connected for ten years or so, until our kids got to high school. Once our kids had their own social life they didn't need us parenting as much. We had more time to ourselves. For some parents it's torture letting go of their kids. That wasn't the case with Jamaal and I.

We had kids fresh out of undergrad and we jumped straight into the real world. I've been with the same firm in one capacity or another while Jamaal has moved slowly from one tech -company to another. Juggling kids and jobs at 24 were a blessing, but we were selfishly happy to let our kids show some independence as they got older. We taught them to make good decisions and now we were being rewarded with free time to ourselves.

Jamaal and I went on more dates and even the occasional weekend getaway. We were definitely more romantic. Even the kids noticed. "Get a room" is what we'd get when we were innocently snuggled up on the couch watching television.

But I also found time to myself. I took a handful of classes - jewelry-making, cooking, skydiving. Everything was on the table and I liked it all. I tried a book club for six months, but it never really stuck. Too much talking. I'm a doer.

My most consistent routine was yoga on Saturday morning's when Jamaal was at the rec center. My local studio in our neighborhood was perfect. There were mostly ladies my age in attendance so the mood was pretty mellow. The environment was relaxing and the vibe was chill. I'd work up a calm sweat and head home.

Jamaal and I had developed a pretty consistent routine ourselves. We'd get home after our Saturday morning workouts - right at the time the kids would be leaving for their practices or whatever. Their games or recitals were usually a couple of hours off, so we'd have the house to ourselves with a layer of sweat we needed to remove.

He'd usually get home first, so he'd have a fruit and veggie smoothie waiting for me on the counter unless he had to drop the kids off further away than usual. I'd grab my smoothie and drink it as I head to the shower. I would drink as I shed my tights and sports bra before turning on the shower. I never had to look back to feel Jamaal's eyes focused on my hips as I bounced from the shower to take one last sip of smoothie. Before the mirror began to fog up completely, I'd take a quick glance at his dick escaping his basketball shorts. It was sweaty and thick and dark. Sometimes it was shaved clean and some times it was hairy, but it was always disgustingly sweat.

I'd have both our scrunchies lathered up before he joined me in the walk-in shower. While the water flowed through my growing mane I could feel Jamaal wiping down my body with my soapy scrunchy. Though I could feel musk leaving my skin, I could feel his salty dick pressed up against my ass crack. While the rest of my body was getting the gentle cleansing it deserved, my as was being assaulted by the manliest dick stench that I could have ever imagined.

And as I turned around to return the favor I could see the soap starting to wash away the gross layer of grime that had covered Jamaal. His dick began to shine as the hot water and my soap-filled hands wiped away that morning's workout.

What came next was usually based on what had gone down the days prior. If we'd just fucked, I'd place his freshly shined dick against my lips and wonder how there was still a pinch of salty flavor left that I'd need to suck off. He'd run his fingers through my curls without as much of a whimper until my hand around his balls made him whisper "oh fuck". Soon after, I'd have a mouth full of cum and limp dick that would need a little more cleaning up.

But if I'd just sucked his dick, he'd inevitably have a seat on the shower wall and lift my left leg beside him. He'd grab my ass with his strong hands and shove my typically hairy pussy right into his face. I'd steady myself with my hands on his head or shoulders while I felt his tongue thoroughly stroke my clit. The shower water against my back was as soothing as his lips were against my mound. But I'd eventually cum when his hands found my sensitive nipples.

However, if we'd both had a frustrating workout we'd simply slide his dick inside me and fuck like we needed it. On the very rare occasion he'd fuck me in the ass just because we needed a change, but for the most part we were pretty vanilla. For most Saturdays this was our routine and we were quite content. We never really discussed it.

Then my local yoga studio was shut down for renovations in the spring. They'd made arrangements at several other clubs nearby to take us in, but they'd be back in business by summer.

For the first two Saturdays I tried the closest studios to our house, but the vibes were off. One was too hippy and the other was too intense. I was going to try a crossfit studio if the next yoga studio didn't workout. I was doing a simple cardio class on Tuesdays but was looking for something a little more intense.

My third yoga studio was a little further away than I wanted to travel and when I got there the vibe was a little snooty. Everyone's gear was dialed up a notch, there were definitely more guys and everyone was about 10 years younger. I'd already decided that I needed to get serious about finding a cardio class near the house when a yoga mat drops next to mine with a curious thud.

"Hey stranger," Yvonne sounded off. "What are you doing over in my hood?" She was a welcome surprise in this meat market, a familiar face among the painfully hip and needy.

"My studio is under renovation and I'm studioless for a couple of months," I answered as Yvonne began to stretch next to me.

"On Hillside?" Yvonne asked with surprise. "Daniel is on that project! And it may be more than a couple of months," she laughed. For some reason Yvonne's smile made me forget about the 30 pairs of eyes checking us out.

After the workout we asked about the kids and jobs, because we hadn't seen each other since last summer. We both were truly curious about each other's lives, but we both felt as though we were holding each other up.

"You coming back next week, right?" Yvonne asked as she jumped in her SUV.

"Indeed," I instinctively replied before we both bolted out of the parking lot.

Oddly enough, the next month or so was the same pattern. We somehow seemed to connect but were too busy to have a conversation. I was just happy to have found a yoga studio so it didn't bother me much.

Then one morning I had to drop my daughter off at a friend's earlier than usual, so I was 30 minutes early to class. I decided to read a few emails in the snack area before class started. By now I'd gotten accustomed to the single's atmosphere and just took the constant flirting and staring in stride. I simply flopped down on a couch and pulled out my phone.

"Early, too?" came Yvonne's voice as she sat right next to me.

For half-an-hour we laughed and joked about everything from our work office politics to this yoga studio. We were like old friends that needed to catch up.

But then we were off to class and headed home in a rush. I just assumed she was really busy. And I was really horny.

However, our connection became stronger as I made a habit of showing up early to the studio, as did Yvonne. It was nice having a girlfriend that I could relate to - from job to family.

Then one day I playfully asked her why she chose this yoga studio for singles. Her face got a little more serious than I had anticipated.

"The attention is, uh, sexy," Yvonne responded with a hint of embarrassment. "I'm not trying to meet anyone, mind you!"

Her defensiveness was a sign that she needed to explain that her marriage was not in trouble, so I supported her with, "Your man is gorgeous, but there's nothing wrong with unsolicited, outside compliment!"

"Your man is pretty nice with his as well," Yvonne returned. "But the workout and the extra attention..." Yvonne started but had trouble finishing her thought.

"Stirs your juices," I smiled knowingly.

"Yes!!" Yvonne quietly exclaimed. "I leave here and can't get home fast enough."

At that moment we both connected the dots. Our men were probably in the middle of a game at the rec center and we were about an hour away from fucking them.

A mutual spirit of embarrassment and curiosity overcame both of us so strong that we laughed uncontrollably.

"Do you think they've had this conversation?" I asked Yvonne as we headed toward our room.

"Daniel is embarrassed to talk about sex with me!" Yvonne responded within earshot of our 20-something instructor.

And just like usual, we downward dogged and ran home. But this time we knowingly grinned at each other as we drove away.

That morning's shower was incredibly intense because I kept thinking about Yvonne and Daniel while Jamaal was squeezing his dick inside my pussy. Did she have a spinach & pineapple smoothie awaiting her return as well? Was his dick as sweaty and dark as Jamaal's? Would he bury his tongue in her or would she be licking his balls? I couldn't get them out of mind for a week. For almost a decade they were just another couple that we'd randomly see and now I was a little more than curious about their most intimate secrets.

That next Saturday I tried to keep my cool when Yvonne joined me on our couch. Nothing had changed about her, but I noticed every inch of her for the first time. From her simple manicure to her tortoise shell frames I was trying desperately to see behind the curtain. While I pretended to not care about how she'd spend her post-yoga time, I playfully joked about our summer plans and my new laptop.

As we spotted our instructor head toward our room, Yvonne leaned in sadly and said, "Daniel says the renovations on your old studio are almost complete." I could tell that she was a little bummed about us losing our quality time and we knew that we'd have trouble committing to another social outing.

"I kinda like it here," I wondered aloud as we grabbed our mats. The young guy behind the juice counter was checking out our asses so we gave him an extra ten seconds. "I feel well taken care of."

Yvonne doubled-over in laughter and relief as we headed toward class. "I'm glad you enjoy it here. I've been thinking about you and Jamaal all week."

As Yvonne walked in front of me my body froze as I considered whether Yvonne was thinking about Jamaal and I the way I'd been thinking about her and Daniel. My mind was racing as my heartbeat quickened. Thank God the yoga calmed my nervous or I would have exploded. Though I was at a fever pitch by the end of class. An hour of watching Yvonne strike pose after pose made me wonder which positions Daniel preferred when Yvonne got home. It was like I was getting half of the visual and needed Daniel to fill in the proverbial blanks.

Again, we rushed out of the studio to the parking lot, but this time it was a little awkward. While we were both politely saying "Have a wonderful week" and "See you next Saturday", we were really thinking "Enjoy that man" and "Tell me all about it".

For about 2 months this was our routine. Just like Jamaal and I had a pattern, so did Yvonne and I. We giggled like school girls when we reached our cars. I'd never shared such an intimate event with anyone other than Jamaal like this. Sure I'd tell my girlfriends dirt about a hookup in college, but this was way different. This was like Yvonne and I were sharing the hookup.

Then I realized how integral our lives became when one Saturday she didn't show up when class started. I was a little thrown off, but it's not like we'd planned anything. The class itself was better than usual, but I was still a little off.

After class I grabbed my phone and saw a text from a number that wasn't already in my phone.

"Oldest made finals so we are upstate this weekend. Enjoy class without me. - Yv". She must have pulled my number from one of the group texts or emails we'd been part of over the years.

"Good luck. Class was great. Great week," was my reply.

But the rest of my morning was still off. The smoothie didn't taste the same and Jamaal's dick was not giving me all that I needed. It was as if I'd skipped foreplay.

And I had.

The rest of my week suffered as well. Nothing was quite right. Projects at work were late or over budget. My team couldn't get on the same page. Everything was just off. I gave Jamaal a halfhearted handjob on Tuesday and some timid doggystyle on Thursday, but it was the best I could muster.

That next week Yvonne was already at the studio when I arrived. She looked as though she'd had a rough week, too. Her usual "Hey Girl!" had been replaced by "hey girl". The bouncy afro was neatly twisted, but it wasn't full of pep.

We drolled on about our terrible week until we committed to starting fresh with yoga. Our spirits raised as we knowingly gave the juice guy another ten seconds of our curvy asses. At least I pretended to check my phone. Yvonne simply stood there and checked her imaginary watch. We bursted out laughing in unison as we headed off to class.

After class our pace was slower than usual. "Big plans?" I asked as we found our cars next to each other's.

With a blush that overwhelmed her soft brown complexion, she smiled and responded, "I just need to be spoiled when I get home." Her words were soft, but her eyes were so transfixed on my eyes that it was as though she'd ask me a question. Her stare made me melt as I waited for the real question. "How does your man spoil you on Saturdays?" Yvonne bluntly asked with her eyebrows raised in full attention.

I knew that her question was as blunt as she intended. She didn't want to hear a flowery euphemism. She didn't need to hear about a smoothie and a back rub. She wanted something substantial. And she was testing my boundaries to see if I would hold my ground.

"My man will spoil me with his tongue in the shower and I will reciprocate on the foot of our bed," I boldly answered, though I trembled on the inside terribly.

As to not sound shocked she gave her approval by simply declaring, "Me, too." Then she gave me the tightest hug and jumped in her vehicle. We both headed home and had the greatest week ever.

For the next few months our post-yoga conversations were much the same, but the details became more explicit and creative. Though we couldn't check the validity of our claims, we honored each height with extreme prejudice.

"I'm going to inhale his seed."

"I'm going to drop the soap."

"I'm going to wear heels in the shower."

"I'm going to finish him in the kitchen."

"I'm going to record it with my phone."

Now the whole week was in preparation for that 20 second parking lot goodbye. I read article after article to find new ways to compete with Yvonne's craftiness. For three months we raised the bar impossibly high.

And then one morning I said without thinking, "I'm going to show you."

I can only assume that she was shocked beyond dismay because I jumped into my car without giving her a second look. I wasn't sure what I meant by my proposal but I knew I had to do something. The kids were still on the west coast checking out colleges with their uncle, so I had room to operate.

By now our husbands were prepared for our Saturday morning antics so they just went along for the ride. When I walked in the house Jamaal had just finished making our smoothies and headed up the stairs.

"Stop right there, please," I demanded. "Hand me your glass." With a look of confusion he handed over his drink and waited. I stood two steps below him.

"Disrobe, please," I continued and Jamaal dutifully obliged. He started with his sweaty t-shirt, then socks and shorts. The bulge in his compression shorts was becoming quite engorged. With his smoothie in my left hand I focused my camera phone with my right hand. I'd captured mostly thigh in the picture, but there was a little exposure to Jamaal's growing bulge. After I focused my camera I slowly took a sip of smoothie and looked up to his long, lean torso above me. "You can start now," I allowed.

Jamaal slowly removed his hardening dick from his tight grey briefs and slowly stroked it in front of me. I took a heavy dose of smoothie into my mouth and put my lips onto the tip of his sweaty head. I let the smoothie drizzle down his shaft and onto his hand. He then used the freshly made lubricant to stroke himself in my direction. At first he offered me a teasing grin to accompany his self-pleasure, but he eventually was too swept up in his own strokes to pay me any mind. The camera only caught his hand motion and thigh, but it was more than enough. As he began to violently stroke himself I held back any instinctive desire to dodge what was coming my way. We'd been here before so I simply accepted my fate.

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