On The Edge


He had told her his flight was delayed.He wanted to see her before they met, when she was relaxed and at ease with her surroundings. So he had told her he would be there with her later, knowing she would follow her usual routine until then.Picking a seat in the corner of the hotel bar, he could watch the clientele enter and leave at his convenience. Male and female, young and old, and all ages in between. They could have been hotel guests, leisure club users, or just there to catch up with friends over a drink or lunch. A woman briefly caught his eye, but it wasn’t her. He knew she was shorter, curvier. The dark hair falling just below the shoulders was right, though.He heard her before he saw her – recognised her laugh from all those phone calls. She was talking to the young girl behind the bar. Something about a university course, and wishing her luck. Her voice was different in person… slightly huskier, maybe, the English accent seeming less pronounced in real life among all the others there. She wore a black vest and leggings, and her dark hair flicked in its ponytail as she moved her head. He watched her leave the bar, having purchased a bottle of water, and head downstairs towards the gym and pool area. He knew she’d spend about half an hour in the gym before swimming.In the changing room, she looked in the mirror and smiled at her reflection. Cheeks slightly flushed already, and eyes sparkling with excitement. Only a couple more hours and they would finally meet. Hours and hours of chatting online, phone calls, shared pictures and laughter and intimacy, had finally led to this. Thousands of miles apart kaçak iddaa in the months since they had first connected, and now they would be in the same country, city, building… room. She stowed her possessions in a locker and headed for the cardio room.The music was up-tempo and invigorating as she started the treadmill, building up her pace gradually, and setting the screen to show a beach scene through which she could imagine she was jogging. Try as she might, though, she couldn’t relax into it as normal. Thoughts of all the times they had imagined their first meeting pervaded her head. All the promises he had made, the ways he had described he would take her… and her nipples pebbled as her clit began to throb, and she could already feel her wetness seeping into the Lycra gym-wear. She upped her pace, trying to distract herself, but as a tiny bead of perspiration trailed between her breasts, all she could think about was how his tongue would feel following that same path… and further down…The friction of the Lycra between her thighs was noticeable in a way she’d never realised, and her breath was shorter now for reasons far removed from the physical exertion. She found herself shifting her stride, aching for more pressure against her swollen clit, feeling the slipperiness created from her juices coating her labia. Trying to regain some semblance of control, she slowed the machine to a walking pace and breathed deeply, stifling a moan. Luckily the gym was quiet at this time of day, and she was the only one in there.He watched her from the leisure club seating area as she stepped off the treadmill kaçak bahis and walked over to the exercise bike. The lighting in the different zones was such that he could see her, but reflections from the tinted glass obscured her view, and he was confident she was unaware of his presence. As she mounted the bike and leaned forwards, he could see her close her eyes and bite her lower lip – a sure tell that she was trying not to make a sound. He smiled in satisfaction. She had told him over and over again that she was constantly wet for him, and he knew she would be thinking about what was going to happen – teasing and edging herself in anticipation. His cock throbbed in response to her nearness and need, and he reached down to adjust himself slightly.She continued to shift on the bike saddle, pedalling slowly, and calorie-burning clearly wasn’t her priority right now. He could see from her expression she was getting closer and closer to climax, creating just the right amount of pressure on her clit as she rocked slightly on the saddle, building, and building…and the exact moment when she stopped herself. She sat up, opened her eyes, and shook her head slightly as though to clear it. For a moment it seemed she stared right at him but her eyes slid over his direction, and she swung her leg back over the saddle. He fancied he could hear her quick indrawn breath as pressure briefly resumed on her throbbing wetness when she dismounted. She seemed a little unsteady as she stood, and he smiled to himself again, turning discreetly in his seat so she wouldn’t see him as she walked past where he sat on her way back to illegal bahis the changing room.She checked her phone – there was a text.”In cab now, see you in an hour.””Can’t wait!” she typed back, “See you in the bar.””Wet?” came the immediate reply.”Not swum yet!””Are. You. Wet?” he clarified deliberately.”Yes,” she admitted. “You know I am. Always wet for you…””How wet?”She knew this was her cue. Behind the curtain, in the cubicle, she slipped off her leggings and panties and brushed her fingers along her soaked, swollen slit. Up and down, up and down, before sliding her middle finger between her lips and sinking it into her aching cunt. Moaning softly, she added her index finger, then her ring finger, relishing the stretching sensation of her digits pushing against her internal walls, feeling her own heat and creaminess on her fingers.With her other hand, she picked up her phone again.”Three fingers,” she typed.”No cumming.””No, Sir,” she confirmed.Reluctantly sliding her fingers back out, she breathed deeply to centre herself again. Her fingers were coated in her juices and she moved them apart and together again, watching how the strands of creamy wetness glistened. Holding them in front of her, she took a photo on her phone, and pressed Send.”Fuck,” came the response, “Stay like that for me.””Yes, Sir.”Her swimsuit was a tankini – black and white flower-print top and plain black boy-short bottoms. As she slid the cups over her breasts, the stimulation over her sensitive nipples was almost unbearable. Pulling the straps up over her shoulders, she shuddered, unsure how she was going to make it through the next hour without climaxing through sheer anticipation of what was to come. The crotch of the shorts was instantly sodden with her wetness, and the brush of the fabric against her swollen pussy lips was torture.

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