Sweet Ass Pt. 01

This story is dedicated to the girl in the grocery store who's outfit and appearance inspired the character of Alex.

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Chapter 1

It started innocently enough. My wife was taking a yoga class with her girlfriend on Tuesday and Thursday nights, and her friend, Carol, couldn't go one evening. I kept in shape with middle distance running, and in hindsight I realize that I was condescending about yoga, teasing Amy by saying if you didn't sweat it wasn't a real workout.

She challenged me to go with her the night that Carol couldn't make it, and I figured what the hell, there are a lot of activities worse than watching a group of young women in yoga pants for an hour.

When we got there I was surprised to see about a third of the class was guys and they all looked to be at last as fit as I was, maybe some of them even more so. We started and I found it easy to follow the instructions on how to pose. At the half hour mark I was panting though, and by 45 minutes my shirt was soaked. When the instructor announced we were starting the cool down poses I almost wept for joy.

My wife was very graceful in victory. As I lay gasping on the floor while everyone else was rolling up their mats, she was chatting with a few classmates and ignoring me. I just gazed at her glowing face and taut body and thanked god that she was mine.

I heard a few girls ask her if she was going for a drink after, and I knew that she and Carol usually stopped for a glass of wine after the class on Thursdays with some of the others, but she realized I was not going to be presentable without a shower and a change of clothes, so she begged off.

We talked about it later that night and I conceded defeat, She asked if I enjoyed the class and I told her honestly that the only way I got through it was by using a trick that I learned while running long distances. I made myself think about something pleasurable and it blocked out the pain I was struggling with.

She asked what I focused on during the class, catching me off-guard, and I answered honestly before thinking it through.

"Sex," I said.

As soon as the word was out of my mouth, I knew I was in trouble. She got a crooked smile on her face and looked at me sideways. "With whom?" she challenged.

As I stammered and began to answer "with you, of course!", she added, "No, let me guess..."

"It was Jessica, the blonde girl with the big boobs in the crop top, wasn't it?"

She had picked a very attractive girl from the class who was probably the girl most women would pick, based on most women's assumption that guys go for the biggest rack. It still amazes me that she would think that, given how much I carry on about her cute B cup tits, and all the attention that I give them.

I sighed, and answered quietly,"No, it was the girl with the pixie haircut in front of us."

"Alex?" she asked, somewhat mystified. "The flat chested one in the pink tube top?"

Now, my wife and I have always been able to talk pretty openly about what we find attractive in other people. I probably encourage her to do it more than she does me, but that kind of honesty has never been a problem for us.

"Yep." I confirmed.

"Huh." She grunted, looking both surprised and dismissive at the same. You know the look I am talking about. Women use it when the want to make sure you explain something, but they also want to convey that no matter what you say it couldn't matter less to them.

Being a guy, I immediately took aim at the foot that wasn't in my mouth and shot myself in it. "She has a sweet ass." I said, too defensively even to my ear, as my face turned red.

Now this is where the discussion could go a hundred different ways, depending on the woman. I am blessed, because Amy reacted completely in character. She burst out laughing.

And I kept digging my grave, even as part of my mind was observing it in an out-of-body way and muttering, "that poor bastard..."

"She's cute! She has that gamin face, and short hair, and she is tiny, so even though her butt is a little bit big for her, it's still very nice. I also like her tattoos." I said, trailing off at the end as I finally forced myself to shut up.

My wife had the last word, of course, grinning at me and nodding her head knowingly as she proclaimed, "Alex sweet ass, huh?"

I finally developed the uncommon good sense to shut the fuck up and let it lie for the rest of the night, and when we went to bed, Amy actually gave me a peck on the cheek.

"I love you," I told her reflexively.

"As much as you love sweet ass?" she quipped, giggling and rolling over away from me with my arm clutched to her chest, pulling me into the spoon position behind her.

I sighed, and let it go.

Over the following week, I carefully avoided the subject of the yoga class, and Amy went to the next two with her friend Carol, staying after the class on the following Thursday, as was the norm, to socialize with her classmates. I started to breath easy again.

Winter turned to spring, and Amy began imploring me to join her in the yoga class. She said she was starting to feel love handles at my waist, and the running was not going to keep me in shape at my current 3 to 4 times per week.

She was right, of course, and I considered my options. I could either put in a couple more 10k runs each week, or spend about the same time with her and Carol doing yoga. I could no longer dismiss the idea out of hand, given my first experience, so I agreed to try it for a while.

I struggled for the first month as my body got used to working a whole different set of muscles than I was using during running. Eventually, I started to actually enjoy the classes, and I noticed my overall strength improving, as well as my posture and breathing. I was becoming a fan of the ancient art!

I also started attending the Thursday after class events, and found out there was a group of regulars that showed up each week, including both girls and guys. Amy could do a whole class and end up no worse for wear appearance-wise, which still amazed me. She met me at the class after changing into her yoga outfit at her office beforehand, and she still looked fresh enough for the bar we went to afterwards. I had to take a change of clothes with me to the class, and because it was held at the community center and there was no locker room there, I would swap my shorts and tee shirt for a dry outfit in the parking lot at the bar before we went in.

It was in April when Amy started doing some double shifts at the hospital to cover for other nurses who were taking vacations. I found myself faced with going to the class without her, and decided it was important to me, so I joined Carol and went without Amy on two occasions.

The second time Amy missed the class was a Thursday, and I was ready to head home after it was over, but Carol wanted to meet the group at the bar and didn't feel comfortable doing so without Amy or someone to accompany her.

Carol is a couple years older than Amy and I, and divorced, but she is attractive and fun to talk to and I knew Amy was tied up for the rest of the night at work, so I agreed to go with her. I followed her to the bar. When we got there I told her I was going to change, and would meet her inside.

Carol said she would save me a stool and she headed in. I picked a parking spot towards the edge of the lot to provide some privacy, and began taking off my shirt and shorts as I stood next to the car in the darkness. I was in my jockey shorts toweling off when I noticed another figure in the parking lot several cars away from me.

I had been careful to turn off the dome light in the car before I started changing, so I was hidden in shadow. I made out that the other person was a small woman who had just gotten out of her car. In the faint light from the interior of her vehicle I could see that it was the girl, Alex, who caught my eye during the first class that I attended.

She peered carefully around the lot, but failed to see me in the darkness, three cars away. Satisfied that she was alone, she pulled off her tube top and yoga pants, leaving her body naked except for a wispy thong.

My breath caught in my throat. She weighed maybe 100 pounds, and looked like a spectral vision from where I stood. She reached into her car and took out a simple orange dress on a hanger. With a casual indifference to her nudity, she removed the dress from the hanger and began bunching it up to pull it on over her head. As she did this, I feverishly tried to commit to memory the vision of her pert little A cup breasts and the swell of her breathtaking ass.

She got the dress over her head and let it fall to her waist. She smoothed the skirt portion over that wonderful bottom of hers, then switched from flip flops to another set of shoes that I could not make out.

I waited, holding my breath, as she locked her car and walked to the entrance of the bar. When she went inside I looked down and found a raging erection tenting my shorts. I finished changing while I wrote a Java script routine for work in my head in an effort to get my woody to subside.

Once inside, I found Carol and joined her at the bar. She had a Michelob Ultra waiting for me, and launched into a discussion of her week at work as I scanned the bar. I spotted Alex just two stools down. She had initially been hidden from my view by a couple of guys from the yoga class that Amy and I nicknamed David and Goliath, based on their appearance. She was talking to them and the bombshell, Jessica, with the big boobs.

I had a pleasant time chatting with Carol and a few other yoga classmates who showed up, but I was never able to maneuver closer to Alex to introduce myself. After an hour, Carol looked at her phone on the bar and announced that she was supposed to meet a guy for a late dinner and needed to get going. She started rooting in her purse for money, and I told her not to worry, I would cover her two glasses of wine. She thanked me and gave me a peck on the cheek, then bolted for the door.

I was finishing my own beer and thinking about leaving, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned and there was Alex, smiling at me. I didn't have to pretend surprise at finding the girl I had been tracking all night had sought me out.

"Hi," she said, "I met your wife Amy a couple months ago, but I never got a chance to meet you yet."

I smiled and took her hand, "I'm Randy," I told her.

She grinned and said, "My name's Alexandra, but you can call me sweet ass." Then she broke into a throaty laugh.

My face turned red and my smile was frozen on my lps. Apparently, Amy had told her about our discussion. I finally answered, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"I'm sorry," she gasped. "Please call me Alex. Your wife made me promise her that I would say that to you when we met. I think she was hoping to be here with you when it happened though."

"She had to work tonight." I explained.

"Let her know that I followed her instructions. Hey, how about doing a shot with me?" she asked.

I was still in pretty good shape since I was drinking light beer, so I agreed.

"Order us some vodka." she said.

I relaxed and signalled the bartender, then noticed Carol's phone was still on the bar. As the bartender approached, I picked it up.

I looked at him and said, "I think my friend left her phone."

He extended his hand and I asked him, "Can't I just keep it and give it to her?"

He smiled and replied, "If you hadn't told me it wasn't yours you could have. I am not allowed to let anyone take property of someone else from the bar if I know it doesn't belong to them. Let me hang on to it and tell your friend it will be here when she comes for it."

I realized that was probably for the best anyway, since I had no idea where Carol lived and wouldn't see her until the following Tuesday.

"We need two Grey Goose shooters and another Mic Ultra."

"Coming right up." he said and put the phone behind the bar for safe keeping.

I turned back to Alex, and she was talking to one of the guys from the class. I had an opportunity to get a good look at her from up close as she chatted with him.

The dress she had on was a burnt orange color, and the material was semi-transparent. I could see the tattoo of a swallow on her shoulder, and another tattoo of writing extending vertically from her hip to her armpit through the fabric. There was no bra strap visible, but then I already knew she was not wearing a bra.

As she turned back to me I saw that she could get away with wearing that dress without a bra because the fabric on the front of the dress was shirred. The effect was intoxicating. You could make out her areolae and nipples as indistinct shadows through the wrinkles in the fabric without actually being able to see them.

I tore my eyes away and took in her strappy, high heeled espadrille sandals and the bright orange polish on her finger and toe nails. My survey was done in seconds, and I looked back to her face to find her studying me.

The bartender announced the arrival of our drinks and I handed her one of the shot glasses. I clinked mine against hers and said, "Skol!"

Alex replied with what sounded like, "Zav strychoo!" and tossed back her shot in one gulp.

I followed her and gave her an inquiring look. "Russian?" I asked.

She nodded, "To our finally meeting," she translated.

I sipped my beer as she gave me a verbal version of what was probably her Tumblr profile. Grad student, Russian national, into yoga and running, two cats.

I had no idea what Amy had told her about us, so I just gave her a similar thumbnail sketch of myself. IT project manager, runner, married, no kids.

We talked about our mutual interests in running, and her studies in computer science. She was a very bright girl and fun to talk to. Before I realized it I had finished my beer and she had finished two cocktails and was looking at her watch. "I need to get home." she said, with a slight slur in her speech.

"You drove yourself here tonight, didn't you?" I asked.

She nodded groggily.

"I better give you a ride home. You are in no shape to drive yourself," I told her.

She put her arms around my waist and laid her head on my chest, "You are so nice. Thank you."

I paid the tab for myself, Carol and Alex's last three drinks, and steered her to the door. She stumbled outside, but the cool air seemed to revive her a bit. I put my arm around her and led her to my car, where I fumbled in my pocket for the key.

Alex put her arm around my neck, and leaned close to me. I pressed the button on the key fob and the headlights blinked on as the doors unlocked. Suddenly, I felt something warm and wet in my ear canal. She probed my ear with the tip of her tongue and panted with lust.

My reaction was to turn my face towards her, and suddenly her tongue was in my mouth as she locked an arm around my neck. I wish I could say that I immediately pushed her away, but the combination of fantasizing about her all night up to that point and her aggressiveness caused me to respond. I wrapped my arms around her and returned the kiss.

When she began to pull on my belt buckle, I realized that she intended to do me right in the parking lot, and the fog in my head cleared. My body was starting to respond to her, but I was thinking of my wife and beginning to feel guilty.

I gently pulled her arms from around my neck and considered my options. If I put her in the front seat next to me and she started attacking me again, I would drive right off the road. I opened the back door, and helped her slide onto the seat.

she fell back against the seat as I tried to pull the shoulder belt across her and buckle it. She had other ideas, though, and as I was leaning across her, she slid sideways and laid down on the seat, pulling me on top of her.

She giggled, and the absurdity of the situation struck me, causing me to laugh. I paused, looking at her face and said, "We better get you home. Where do you live?"

She whispered her address, then tried to kiss me. I gave her a quick kiss to placate her, then climbed out and shut the door. She was going to have to ride home laying on the seat without being belted in. I just hoped that a cop didn't spot her and pull me over. I was pretty sure I was legal, but I didn't want to press my luck.

I went around the car and got in. The whole exchange had taken five minutes, and there were people coming and going from the parking lot the whole time. What I didn't realize then was that one of those people was Carol, who had come back for her phone, and was only 20 feet away and watching us as the scenario with Alex played out.

Chapter 2

lI got home from work on Friday and changed from my business casual work clothes into a pair of jeans, anticipating that Amy and I would go out to grab a bite to eat when she got home. I twisted the cap off of a beer, and checked my phone for Facebook and Twitter updates as I waited.

When Amy came into the house I called out a greeting, but she marched from the front door to our room without responding. I assumed she was headed to the bathroom, and waited for her to finish.

After a half hour and no sound from the bedroom, I got up and went in to check on her. I found her sitting on the bed and staring into space with a blank expression on her face. I knew something bad had happened, but I had no idea what it was.

I sat next to her and asked, "What's wrong, Amy?"

She sat, unmoving and with no change in expression, and asked, "What happened last night, Randy?"

At first, I couldn't think of what she was referring to, then I realized that someone must have seen me leaving the bar with Alex last night and told her about it. I decided that the best response was to come clean and explain exactly what happened.

"You probably mean at the bar after the yoga class. Listen, nothing happened. I just gave that girl Alex a ride home because she had a few too many drinks and I was worried about her driving."

"That's all?" she asked.

"Yes, I drove her home and dropped her off, then came right back here. I was already in bed when you got in last night."

"I got in at 12:30. What time did you leave the bar with her?" she asked.

My mind began to work on the question. Shit, what time did I get home? What time did I leave the bar? I did some quick math and figured the class was over at 7:30, Carol probably left the bar about 8 or so, and I didn't hang around for more than another hour.

"I think I left the bar about 9 p.m." I said.

"Was that when you left the bar or the parking lot?" Amy responded.

Shit! Someone must have told her what happened in the parking lot. I tried to remember the details, and as they came back to me I realized how bad it must have looked to anyone who saw what happened.

"Listen," I said, "what happened in the parking lot looked a lot worse than it was. Alex was drunk and she tried to kiss me. I had to put her in the back of the car to sleep it off while I drove her home."

"From what I heard, she not only tried to kiss you, she succeeded. And you kissed her back."

"I got carried away for a minute, yes." I explained, the words tumbling out of me, "but I stopped and put her in the back seat of the car before it went any further."

"Did you climb into the back seat with her?"

SHIT! It probably looked just like that to anyone who was watching from outside the car. I had the damn interior light turned off in the car too, so no one could see me struggling to pull away from her, or laughing at how ridiculous the whole situation had become.

"I was not in the back seat with her for more than a few minutes. I was trying to belt her in, but she laid down on the seat so I gave up and left her that way while I drove her home." I said.

Amy looked at me with dead eyes, and asked, "What happened then?"