Toronto Island Triathlon Ch. 03

I watched, lying back against the pillows and the headboard, with Emily perched on top of me, as the two women kissed. Emily put her hands on Mary's cheeks and pulled her face to her, kissing her deeply and passionately. Emily, the young university swimmer – long brown hair, lithe, slender body. Mary – in her 40s, blond hair to her shoulders, full glowing face and full, swaying breasts. I put my hand on Emily's right hip, and my right hand on Mary's left hip, kneading my fingers into their bodies as they kissed.

Finally, with a long parting look into Mary's eyes, Emily turned her attention back to me. She placed her hands on my shoulders and began stroking her pussy unbearably up and down my length. I held her ass hard in my hands and urged my hips up into her, driving into her as she slid down onto me. Mary's left hand caressed and massaged Emily's left breast, while her right brushed over mine as she caressed and stroked Emily's lower back and her ass.

Emily's moans grew louder. She pushed into my shoulders, lifting herself back from me so that she could look into my eyes as she came to orgasm. I watched it flow over her body, watched her face melting into liquid pleasure as she rode my length and felt four hands caressing over her body. When she finally came, her chin dropped down to her chest and then quickly snapped up, her face to the ceiling, moaning as she ground her pussy hard down onto my cock, milking me for every ounce of pleasure she could find.

And deliberately, and agonizingly, I held back.

I wanted Mary.

Emily melted down against me in the wake of her orgasm, her breasts pressed to my chest, her head on my right shoulder. I caressed her ass cheeks gently, but I was staring at Mary, who was staring back at me. "Em," I whispered, softly tapping Emily's ass cheek. Emily lifted up and slid off me to my left, into the center of the bed. Her hips and her ass fell against Mary's legs, kneeling on the bed on that side. I sat up, and began unbuttoning the grey dress shirt that I had never had the chance to remove. I tossed it to the next bed, and then pulled my tight-fitting UnderArmor shirt off as well.

"Mary," I said, my voice thick with the lust I was feeling.

Mary pushed her panties down to her knees, and then hooked them out from underneath her legs. She moved onto me, with an eager, and gleaming, look on her face. Her hand went immediately to my cock, pulsing still, dripping still, and eased it into position, the purple head touching to her already wet labia. She looked into my face as she stroked the tip once, twice, three times, across her lips, and then touched it inside her, and let her body fall, just an inch, so that my purple head slid fully inside her.

Her hands on my chest now. Her knees buried in the mattress on either side of my hips. Her eyes closed. Measuring me, measuring my length, measuring the effect a movement of her hips would have on the deliciousness of me inside her.

My left hand went to her right breast. I'd wanted this so much. Squeezing her tit in my hand, as I stroked her left hip, and ass cheek, with my right hand. As Mary settled deeply onto me, a great white emptiness formed in my mind – the pleasure I was feeling pushing aside everything else. I squeezed her ass hard as she began to find her rhythm, stroking herself upon me, finding the movements, the angles, that caused her pleasure.

Me beneath her. A young man, beginning a career. The woman in my life on the bed beside us, idly stroking circles across her tummy as she watched. Mary, in her late 40s, fighting to be herself again, fighting to be fit, and alive, when it was so easy, at this point in your life, to let things slip and slide away.

A hotel room, in a small Canadian city.

An evening, sliding into a nighttime.

*

"I'm still glowing," she whispered.

I nodded, though, in the darkness, her head below mine on a separate pillow, she probably didn't notice. "Yes," I said, squeezing her lightly. "Yes."