Running

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Jogging is not a substitute for sex.
2.1k words
4.25
22.7k
7

Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 10/07/2013
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Ashson
Ashson
8,505 Followers

I was feeling frustrated. Why? Who knows? It was just a case of severe frustration giving me the heebie jeebies and making me want to run around looking for a kitten to kick. Not a dog. They might bite and I wanted to attack something defenceless. And I was horny. Not that that is anything new. A natural state of affairs for any man.

It was a nice day, so I decided I'd go out and run off all my frustrations and horniness, working up a good sweat. Accordingly I put on my running things and headed down to the local park.

I suppose I shouldn't really call it a park. It was a nature reserve, and there were several square miles of it. Parts of it consisted of parkland, but not much. Ninety percent was natural vegetation with walking tracks and a couple of bike tracks. Pedestrians were supposed to keep off the bike tracks and any cyclist on a pedestrian path was liable to suffer injury when they were pushed into the nearest bush.

There were a number of jogging tracks. Three or four were in common usage, but there were another half dozen minor tracks that just meandered through the bush. It was all that meandering that made them unpopular with runners and joggers. They like long straight stretches with few bends. A path that seemed to switch direction every dozen yards didn't make for a good run.

So here I am trotting down a path, just starting to work up a sweat. And there she was, jogging towards me, a sweet young thing with a tight top that totally failed to control her breasts. She had a terrible case of boob-bounce. I was watching them so hard I damn near jogged into a tree when she passed. I'll just bet that her breasts would continue to bounce for a good five minutes after she stopped running.

On I went, my horniness index higher than when I started, thanks to that young woman. Jogging along and I overtake another sweet young thing. Why the hell are they all out jogging this morning? Why aren't they at home, in bed, taking care of their man?

Overtaking a pretty little jogger is worse than just passing one going the other way. Going the other way you're distracted for a few seconds by the pretty girl (and the boobs) but then you pass each other and you continue on your way, smiling. Overtaking means that you're trotting up from behind and you'll be behind her for a while. That means, in this particular case, that I was trotting along behind a teenager wearing tight shorts. Very tight and very short. And her bottom wobbled. There was a real lilt to the way her buttocks rolled around inside those shorts.

That natural sway of the woman's bottom prevented me passing her. I just automatically slowed down to appreciate the view. Unsurprisingly, this did nothing to help my general state of frustration and horniness.

I gave up on the running. The path I was on forked and I headed down the little used path, slowing to a stroll and enjoying nature. All was calm and peaceful, just the calling of the birds breaking the quiet.

I was starting to relax while strolling down the path. I suppose I must have walked for a good five minutes, getting deeper and deeper into the reserve. (There was no chance of getting lost. They had little signs every time two tracks crossed, indicating the nearest exit.)

Then I heard feet slapping the ground and the next thing I knew a young woman was jogging up from behind. She was about twenty five and quite pretty. She pulled up level with me and was almost jogging on the spot as she started to chatter.

"You're not going to keep fit just strolling along like that," she said rather derisively. "You need to run."

Why are these fitness fanatics always urging other people to run? I'll run when I want to and casually stroll when I want to. Right now, casual strolling fitted my requirements.

"I've been running," I pointed out. "I was trying to run off excess energy but it wasn't working. Now I'm relaxing."

"If you're trying to work of excess energy maybe you should try a different type of exercise. Tai Chi, for instance."

Yeah, right. I'm going to prance around doing formal Asian dance moves. I knew the type of exercise I wanted and Tai Chi wasn't it.

"I suppose you also do Tai Chi as well as running?"

"It's very healthy," she said, nodding to indicate that she did do it. "It really helps your fitness."

"I'll pass. I must admit that there is another type of exercise I want. How about you drop your shorts and I'll indulge?"

She went red and glared at me.

"I was only trying to be friendly," she snapped. "There's no need to be rude."

She was about to jog off but I reached out and hooked a finger over her shorts, stopping her. She tried to pull away but I managed to flick open the button. I gave a little tug and her shorts slid down over her bottom. So did her panties, with just a little help.

"I wasn't being rude," I said. "I was making an offer. I think I really need some exercise."

She was protesting and blushing and grabbing at her shorts. I was fending her arms off so she couldn't get at them and also lifting her top. I managed to push that up over her bra and then pushed the bra up so her breasts popped out.

She was still wriggling and glaring at me, telling me to cease and desist or she'd scream.

I let her go and started undoing my own shorts. She promptly bent down to grab her shorts to pull them up.

"Stop it. Don't do that," I said, speaking firmly.

She looked at me, startled.

"What do you mean, don't do it?" she asked, hands clutching her shorts.

"If you pull them up, how am I supposed to get my exercise?" I asked, pushing my own shorts and undies down. "You can see I'm badly in need of it."

That was true. My general level of horniness would have guaranteed an erection without her body being on display. Seeing that it was, well. . .

"Do you seriously think that I'm going to let you have sex with me?"

"Well, yes," I said.

I reached out and lightly stroked her from breast to pussy.

"Are you crazy? You can't just pull down a woman's pants and tell her you want to have sex with her"

"Why not?" I asked. "It seems quite reasonable to me. Now we both know where we stand."

I took her arm and tugged her closer, slipping my arms around her to cup her bottom.

"But, but people just don't do that sort of thing."

"I do," I said with a shrug. "Are you saying that you won't?"

"Even if I wanted to, which I don't, might I point out we're in the middle of a nature reserve and people may come past at any moment."

"And they might not. Lift your leg." I lightly slapped her thigh.

"Why?"

"Facilitate entry," I said calmly, lightly tapping her thing again.

She seemed to gulp, then lifted her leg. I caught it under the knee and lifted it higher. A slight adjustment and my erection was pressing firmly against her pussy, then it was slipping between her lips and sinking deeper.

I gave a sigh of relief and she made a strange sort of sound.

"My god, you're really doing it. We're in the middle of the path and you're trying to fuck me. I don't believe this."

By this time I was sinking in nice and deep. I hooked her leg around my waist and closed my hands around her bottom again, holding her to me, finally pushing home that last little bit.

Seeing she was only standing on one leg her hands came up and clutched hold of my shirt, gripping it tightly. I started to rock, slowly moving in and out of her. It wasn't all one sided. Her leg tightened around my waist and she was moving with me, pushing herself against me as I drove in.

I was just quietly enjoying the unexpected exercise, but not so my partner. She was becoming vocal as we got going.

"God, I can't believe this is happening," she insisted. "I don't even know you. How can I let you do this? My god! What if someone comes? We'll be arrested."

She did carry on. She'd be squeaking and gasping and pumping eagerly against me, then she'd be fretting again, telling me all the reasons we shouldn't be doing this. I just stayed shut and did my humble best to pleasure her and make up for her inner turmoil.

She got even more vocal when I suddenly pulled out.

"What are you doing?" she wailed. "I'm not ready. You can't finish yet. It's not fair. You started this."

"Quiet, woman," I snapped. "Just turn around and put your hands against that tree."

She spun around, leaning forward, bracing herself, head turned to see what I was doing. Good thing she was bracing herself because I moved up behind her and drove in fiercely. She gave a small shriek, her bottom bouncing up to meet me, and then I really started putting some effort into it.

Bending forward the way she was, her breasts were dangling and, being a true gentleman, I reached around her to provide the support they needed. I held them tightly while I took her, enjoying the feel of them and really enjoying the friction of her hot moist passage as my cock used it, plunging in and out with all the effort I could apply.

They say that jogging is a substitute for sex. They're mad. All the jogging did was warm us both up for the main course. I banged on home, tensions rising in both of us. Soon it was just a matter of time as to which of us would finish.

I was hoping that she'd finish first, on the principle that if she did I could just bang in harder and finish anyway. If I finished first, she'd be right out of luck, as I wouldn't be waiting around for her to catch up.

As it happened, she was lucky, coming rather loudly. I pushed forward that little bit more, encouraging her to really blow her cork and finishing with a bang myself.

It was funny. She'd been fretting that someone might come, and now that she was hugging the tree, unaware of what was around her, someone did come trotting up.

I'd just pulled loose, my cock standing half-erect and exhausted, when the pretty young thing with the bouncing boobs came jogging around the corner, boobs still doing their merry dance.

She came to an abrupt halt to see us. My partner leaning against the tree, everything on display, and me, while on display, at least tidying myself away. She stood there gaping, obviously wondering whether she should keep going or turn and bolt.

I strolled over to her, looking as harmless as possible. When within reach I just couldn't resist lifting her top to admire those breasts of hers. Lovely they were.

"You really should wear a bra where jogging," I told her. "There are some excellent sports bras you can get, even for someone with your endowments. Do you jog every day?"

She nodded dumbly.

"Well, maybe with a bit of luck we'll bump into each other tomorrow. Now off you go."

I pulled her top back down and gave her a friendly pat on the bottom and she took off like a racing deer, getting the hell away from the predator.

I considered my partner, still propped up against the tree. It would be rude to just depart and leave her like that, I decided. I wandered back to her and straightened her clothes. She started to come out of it while I was doing that and hastily finished the job herself.

She looked at me once she was tidy, seeming puzzled. Then she shook her head and looked away.

"I'm going to finish my run," she said. "You do not need to keep me company."

With that she was off and running. Beats me. Why would she think I wanted to keep her company? I was relaxed and ready to go back home. I really had to come to the reserve more often, I decided. It had a decidedly beneficial ambiance about it.

Ashson
Ashson
8,505 Followers
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AnonymousAnonymousabout 9 years ago
Great story

Fantastic job, very sexy story and as a runner it's spot on to every runner's fantasy, please write more!;)

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