She paused for a moment as she moved behind me, re-positioning, and then I felt the hot oil on the back of my legs and her hands soon followed, kneading my tired old runner’s muscles, a pinch of pain here and there due to my sciatica, working over my calves and ankles to my feet. Then she spoke for the first time.“Let’s get these shorts off,” she said as her hands latched onto the waistband of my jockeys. “Lift up.”This was unexpected, but I raised and she pulled them off. Then a liberal amount of oil was squirted onto my buttocks and flowed into the crack of my ass. She worked my cheeks, piercing digs with her long, talented fingers, groping and pinching and spreading them, the warm fluid tickling into my asshole. Next I felt her spread open the rim of my sphincter with one hand, and then I felt the tapered tip of one of her plastic bottles enter my ass. She squeezed the bottle and a warm oily stream shot into my asshole, and I emitted a pleasant groan.I was already getting hard. We organized several sinful meetings after work to share a beer or two. The sexual tension grew in anticipation of our next lovemaking session. We grasped for each other as much as is acceptable to to so in public, sometimes more so. The passion was undeniable and incredibly intense. Before I knew it, was the night before. I tossed and turned in bed the night before just fantasizing. By the time my alarm sounded, I was nearly shaking in anticipation. I got ready and basically ran out the door. The excitement was unreal. I couldn’t wait to be in his arms again, be underneath the weight of his body, feel his breath on me…The thoughts made me tremble. I left the train and went to get us some coffees. He decided to meet me, yet again, at a Starbucks. I waited outside and watched him as he crossed the street towards me. The feelings of the first time I saw him seemed distant and familiar at the same time. The excitement was more intense and the nervousness of the unknown was completely.
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