The Temptress

"Oh, Teddy."

Silent whimpers coated my ear channels as I pushed inside her. She was wet. No, she was fucking soaked.

"Ahh, yeah," she hissed through clenched teeth, and she combed her nails through my hair and pulled when I started moving. A perky, firm ass filled my palms as I rocked us both in a steady rhythm, and she moaned when I pushed her up against the wall and lifted her, so her legs wrapped around my hips. I was already breathing hard. The familiar tension was starting to build up, but I held back. We had to stay silent and make it quick so we wouldn't get caught, but I took pride in making her cum first. Most of all because I loved the sensation of a pulsating pussy clenching around my cock.

"Oh, my God," she moaned, and I could hear it in her voice that it wouldn't take long.

"Are you cumming, Camela?"

Instead of answering, she swallowed and nodded. Then she let out a loud moan that made me place my hand over her mouth.

"Shh... Keep it low," I murmured and smiled. I loved watching when she panted against my hand. It made me feel powerful in a way. And even more so the times when she allowed me to squeeze her throat. Kinky, I know, but whatever to spice up an otherwise uneventful life, right?

Being single wasn't as fun as when I was a teen. Now I was in the beginning of my forties, divorced, and officially done with women for anything else but occasional hookups. And the past year I had mostly been fucking Camela, the staff leader at our local gym, 'Fit for All'. She was a goddamn sexy little thing, but her whiny and clinging personality made it easy not to want something more.

Camela started chanting my name, and I felt her lips move against my palm. It was best that way. Then I didn't have to kiss her, which was how I preferred it. It excluded the intimacy I'd sworn to stay away from, and it was less personal. It was perfect.

"Cum for me," I demanded, knowing that usually was enough to tip her over the edge. Lowering my voice to a deep whisper directly into her ear was another. And when I did both and gave her a few rough thrusts, she arched her back and squeezed her eyes shut. Then finally, I allowed myself to get my release too.

I grunted and squeezed her ass hard when I pumped the condom full inside her, and she whimpered into my neck. I changed my grip to make her stand and grabbed around my dick as I pulled out, while I made sure the condom was still intact. No way was I gonna knock her up and fuck my life up together with it. I already had a son. A grown one who was gonna get married in a couple of weeks. That was more than enough.

"Fuck," I mumbled and gave Camelo a quick kiss on the cheek. She turned her head a little so I could kiss her on the lips, but I dodged her attempt and made it seem like I didn't notice what she was trying to do. Cruel perhaps, but necessary. Then I disposed the condom and tucked myself back in my pants.

"So, do you have any plans for later?" she asked and fixed her tits to make sure they were back in her sports bra. They were still way too exposed to be considered publicly acceptable, and her erect nipples were showing through, but that wasn't my problem. Her tights were. They were hugging her thighs and ass perfectly and made her look even more fit than she already was. Literally all the muscles were at display, teasing the fabric for each time they vibrated and flexed under her skin. You could see everything, even the vague contours of her pussy lips when she stood a certain way, which was the reason why we started fucking in the first place. The temptation was simply too big. And lifting weights with a half hard in your sweatpants was kind of revealing, and highly inappropriate and embarrassing. Lucky for me, she was horny enough to give me the relief I craved.

"Uhm... Yeah. I'm having visitors over. Family," I said, but it was probably just a mumble. I didn't care if she believed me or not, but at least it wasn't a complete lie. My son and his fiancé were coming from New York this summer, and were staying for a few weeks to celebrate their wedding. I didn't know if they'd arrived or not, though. They were staying at my ex's house anyway, which probably was for the best, but Camelo didn't need to know that.

"Oh. Okay. So..." she said awkwardly and reminded me of how much I hated this part. The after sex. The small talk you had to do because it was expected of you, even though you didn't have anything in common.

"So... See you around, then?"

"Yeah. See ya'," she replied, sounding slightly disappointed. I didn't care. She knew what she'd signed up for, so it shouldn't come as a surprise. I didn't want a girlfriend. Period. Everybody knew that.

I left the gym, heading for the grocery store, with the pleasant aftermath of having some of the gnawing sexual tension relieved. I knew it wouldn't last long, but I did have hands, although fucking my fist while watching porn far from the real deal. But being sexually frustrated was okay compared to having a witch from hell haunting you every living hour, yelling at you because every single thing you did wasn't good enough according to her insane standards. No, fuck all that. I'd been a loner ever since the divorce, and that's how it was gonna stay.

Now it was time for dinner, and my bored mind was growling louder than my hungry stomach. It was the same fucking question every day. Chicken? Had it yesterday. Fish? Nah. Didn't bother to decide which kind. Burger? No. If so, I would have bought it elsewhere and not the kind you have to make yourself. Soup? Hell no...

"Oh! I'm sorry!"

The words were exclaimed simultaneously by myself and the person I crashed into, and our eyes connected barely a second later. She automatically smiled and I saw a blush spread on her cheeks, while brown, doe eyes blinked with embarrassment. She was cute.