The Two Sides of Hannah Ch. 03

I feel like I deserved it, after Hannah had let me know that she watched me jerk off in the shower. Sure I was embarrassed, but also kind of excited that she had played peeping tom on me, like I had to her.

Friday couldn't come soon enough, but I couldn't tell if it was out of excitement, or the unresolved tension of knowing where I stood with Hannah. Did she think I was a weirdo? Did she find me endearing, or attractive even? Sure I was embarrassed, but so was Hannah, and it somehow, in my mind, made us kindred spirits.

Friday, 4.15, and her car parked behind mine in the carport. Hannah tossed her bag over the rail again, and called out "You should come James! Get some exercise!"

She was very persuasive in her tights and sports bra, and I quickly changed into my gym gear. It was old, hadn't been used in 2 years, and wasn't revealing anything worth writing about. I was about as average a male as you can get. Healthy, soft, 30 yr old male. Active without being fit. My singlet and shorts weren't up to the active dress standards Hannah set, but I wasn't in a position to refuse an invitation from a gorgeous woman who you have seen naked.

Hannah was fast, but sitting 10m behind the pace she set was the best position to run. She definitely doesn't wear anything under her tights, but her tight skin holds her whole butt together, it barely jiggled as she bounced along the trail. I could have run all day from that spot.

She stopped at the clearings to do her weights routine, while I sat and regained my breath. It was quite a regimented routine she had set out, and she was so focused that conversation ranged from stilted to non-existent. After an hour, we finally turned back down the hill for my cabin at the edge of the forest.

She was too fast, and got quite a lead on me, and as I rounded a corner she had disappeared. Then I caught a glimpse of Hannah at the waterfall turn off and tracking through the improvised path, and I followed.

There are two rocks wedged together that form a natural cave, and inside is a tiny waterfall that is excellent for post-exercise refreshment. Hannah had used this as a shower after her sessions, until I had spied her there last week. I crept up to the rocks and peeked through at the waterfall.

Hannah wasn't rinsing under the falls, but across from the waterfall is a ledge Hannah had used to put her bags when she showered. I could see her sitting there, her legs spread shoulder width apart, her hand cupping her mound and rubbing ever so gently over the top of her tights.

After staring for a momentarily at the show, I looked up to see Hannah staring straight back at me, the corners of her mouth turned up playfully. Her green eyes were calm and soft, and willed me to maintain eye contact. I dutifully complied, and my peripheral vision was tasked with catching sight of her slowly moving hands below.

She broke eye contact and adjusted her body lower down the ledge, so her legs could spread wider on the earthen floor. Hannah slipped her hand inside the tights, and kept it still on her mound for a few seconds, and then flashed me a look. Her gaze had hardened, she looked right through me, and her playful attitude had become something else. It was a desperate need that she was trying to satiate, and I'm sure that she was somewhere else entirely.

As her hand began to move slowly beneath the tights, she was almost expressionless, lost in her own sensations. Her fingers worked faster until her digits penetrated, and she hunched over either from sensation or to angle her hands better. She kept her head up and held eye contact, and I couldn't tell if she was angry or embarrassed, or if she had no emotion other than the one welling inside her.

Suddenly her free hand slipped down the side of her tights and pulled them down to her pussy level, so I could make out her cupped hand over her entrance. Hannah's coarse hair rubbing against her quickening hand was the only sound I heard. Then her frantic pulsing slowed down again, and she sat back against the wall and let out a deep sigh, the first noise she had made while touching herself.

I took a step back from the cave entrance, lost in a reverie of my own, when Hannah squeezed past me, and sprinted off down the makeshift path back toward the car park. Her ass defied both gravity and momentum as she ran, maintaining its posture at the top of her thighs, defying the laws of physics.

She would always outrun me, so I walked the 700m meters or so back to the picnic grounds. There was no sign of Hannah, so I continued on to my cabin. I could hear the splash of water from my outdoor shower as I approached, and I fixed a drink for us both and waited on the porch as Hannah finished up in the shower.

I wondered what she would be wearing. I knew by now her routine would dictate the sundress I had seen her in. But maybe... had walls been broken? Could she discard the sundress altogether? Should I lead by example and disrobe? These were my thoughts when I heard the shower turn off, and moments later Hannah appeared in her sundress.

Hannah collected the soda from the table, gave me a quick "cheers" and lay back on the sun bed, satisfied with the afternoon activities. There was two sides to Hannah. One that was light, free moving and wistful. This Hannah drank with me, let her guard down, and teased me mercilessly. The other was focused and intense. Any kind of exertion, physical or sexual, seemed to bring this Hannah out, and I had just spent the best 5 minutes of my life with her.

"Did you enjoy the workout?" Hannah finally broke the silence.

"More than I ever have before." I answered honestly. I didn't know how much of her personal performance should be acknowledged, so thought I'd let her steer the conversation.

"It's great to be in a routine. There is something comforting about knowing what is coming," she says. I have no idea if she knows about her double entendre, which I loved, but it also frustrated me because I didn't know how to respond. "I've done the same thing for nearly three years. I just add some intensity as I get fitter."

"I can see the value in your routine. I have a bit of catching up to do."

"You seemed to have nailed some of the finer points two nights ago. If you want to get better at it, it's in your hands," she said with a smirk, rolling over on to her side. For such a masculine musculature, Hannah sure knew how to use her femininity to greatest effect. Her lying on her side, hip in the air, hand propping her chin, was enough to stir my penis visibly, which she must have noticed.

"You saw me in the mirror the other night didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"And then I watched you masturbate in the shower."

"Mm. Sorry." I looked into my drink, waiting hopefully for her lead.

"That's not a fair trade is it? I thought I was just going to be peeping on you for peeping on me, but then you started fondling, and I couldn't peel myself away. I told you I was the same as you. That's why you got a show today. I have an unshakable attitude to fairness."

"Ok. Thanks, I guess?"

There was a pause. Hannah's tone changed perceptibly.

"I haven't seen your dick. I could only see your head and shoulders from the porch. And you saw practically all of me in the mirror."

"Ok. You want to see me naked? You want me to stand in front of the mirror for you?"

"No."

There was an awkward silence, and I could sense the light hearted Hannah was transforming into the intense Hannah. She shifted on to her back, but kept her eyes locked on mine.

"I can be your mirror. Copy me."

She started to roll her index finger around her nipple, so I put down my drink, sat on my side, and copied. Next she rubbed her hand up and down her stomach, which I dutifully replicated. As her hand came down her tummy, it progressively moved closer to the hem of dress, and then started flicking the hem up as her hand came ascended. I tried to copy, but not being in a dress made it difficult. I slid my hand underneath my shorts as a compromise.

Her hand kept teasing the hemline, and then a crooked finger started exploring underneath, but only fleetingly as her hand kept a rhythmic movement up and down. Then her hand stopped at her hemline, and her fingers disappeared underneath her dress that stopped at the very edge of her junction. Her hand didn't move now, and I tried to reciprocate by grabbing the bottom of my shaft under my pants. We sat in silence momentarily, eyes transfixed, and I could see that the other Hannah, the single-minded aroused Hannah, had taken over her body, and her sense of pleasure was the sole focus.

I hadn't noticed that her other palm was massaging a breast, so I adjusted as well. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her hand that was on her hemline starting to rise up her tummy again, but this time the dress came with it. The dress stopped at her navel, and she implored me with her eyes to respond.

The only way I could go was down, so I shifted my stiff penis out of my shorts, and pulled down my pants just below my sac. She didn't break eye contact at all, but I did as I stole a glance at her exposed sex, tilted slightly toward me with a raised knee on the day bed. I could see her lips swelling from her close-cropped wedge of hair. It was only a second before I met her eyes again, but her focus had gone.

She flicked her dress down suddenly, sat up and took a drink from the side table.

"You owe me one," she said.