Triple Threat: Empty Nest Revelations

3 days ago

The humidity hung thick and heavy, clinging to the sun-baked concrete of the patio like a desperate lover. Tri training day had ended, but the lingering heat and the memory of Sharon’s brazen display in the backyard still simmered beneath my skin. The half-mile swim, the twenty kilometers on the bike, the five-kilometer run – they’d all contributed to a building sense of arousal, a primal need that now threatened to overwhelm my carefully constructed composure. I'd pushed myself harder than I ever had before, not just for the physical challenge, but also for the tantalizing glimpse I’d caught of Sharon’s body, her curves sculpted by years of sun and sweat, her yellow bikini top a beacon of forbidden pleasure.

As I stripped off the clinging training clothes, a wave of heat surged through me, and I realized Sharon's touch, the playful chafing, the forceful capture of my “Superman” briefs, had left an indelible mark. The thought of her teasing me, making fun of my dedication, only fueled the fire within. It was a perverse pleasure, this vulnerability, this complete surrender to the desire that now consumed me.

I grabbed a pair of biking shorts from the patio table, doused myself in sunscreen, and slipped into my training shoes. The scent of citrus mingled with the salty tang of the pool water, creating an intoxicating aroma that intensified my anticipation. As I descended to the pool deck, I caught a glimpse of Sharon, still lounging in one of the Adirondack chairs, her iPhone speaker blasting out some upbeat pop music. She’d clearly been enjoying her own form of entertainment, and the knowledge that she was watching, assessing, added another layer of excitement to the situation.

“Hydrating?” she called out, her voice carrying across the water.

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, holding up the water bottle in the bike’s water harness. “Wouldn’t want you to dry up on me.”

Her response, the subtle challenge in her tone, only served to heighten my own arousal. The sun beat down mercilessly, but I barely noticed, my focus entirely consumed by the impending encounter. As I mounted the Tri-trainer cycle, I felt a strange sense of detachment, as if I were merely a vessel for the surging desire within me. The bike seat pressed against my balls, a constant reminder of the pleasure to come.

Sharon’s presence at the other end of the pool continued to be a source of both frustration and temptation. She shifted positions, stretching out on a different Adirondack, occasionally calling out a provocative remark, but always maintaining a playful distance. Each glance, each casual touch, fueled my obsession, pushing me closer to the brink of madness.

Then, as if summoned by my own longing, she broke the silence. She unfastened her bikini top and let it fall to the ground, revealing her ample cleavage and the smooth curve of her tanned skin. Her movements were deliberate, slow, designed to tease and provoke. It was a blatant invitation, a challenge to my restraint.

As she continued to shed her clothing, revealing her full nakedness, my senses ignited. The sight of her body, so perfectly formed, so utterly captivating, sent shivers down my spine. The air crackled with electricity, the unspoken promise of pleasure hanging heavy between us.

Sharon reached behind her and retrieved a tube of coconut lotion from the patio table. She began to work the lotion into her breasts, her fingers tracing the contours of her nipples with slow, deliberate movements. The scent of coconut mingled with the sweat on her skin, creating an irresistible aroma. It was an act of intimacy, a declaration of desire, a prelude to the ultimate release.

As she continued her ministrations, I felt my control slipping, my inhibitions dissolving under the weight of my own arousal. The thought of her hands on my body, her lips on my skin, filled me with an overwhelming sense of anticipation. I stripped off my training shoes, abandoning the last vestiges of my former self.

My legs began to tremble as I made my way towards her, each step bringing me closer to the inevitable encounter. The heat intensified, the air thick with the scent of sunscreen and sweat, and the sound of the pop music faded into the background.

When I reached her side, I felt an almost unbearable pressure building within me. I could no longer contain the urge, the need to succumb to the pleasure that awaited. I grabbed her by the neck, pulling her closer until our bodies were pressed together. Her skin was warm, soft, and exquisitely sensitive.

“Kiss me,” she whispered, her breath hot against my ear.

I obliged, leaning in to meet her lips in a passionate embrace. Her tongue explored my mouth, teasing and tantalizing, as I responded in kind. The world around us faded away, leaving only the sensation of her lips against mine, the heat of our bodies intertwined.

As we pulled apart, Sharon reached behind her and unfastened her bikini bottoms, revealing her creamy white ass cheeks and the sensitive flesh of her genitals. She reached down and cupped my package, capturing my “Superman” briefs in her grasp. The touch was both intimate and aggressive, a perfect blend of pleasure and dominance.

“I like those ‘Superman’ briefs–they snug everything up nice and tight,” she said, making fun of my dedication to tight underwear.

“I’m a grower not a show-er, pretty lady,” I responded, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

“We’ll have to see about that,” she countered, then reached up with a hand around my neck and returned the cheek peck.

“All in good time, Miss. I’ve still got 25K to go.”

“Hurry along then. I’ll keep myself occupied.”

As I continued my training, Sharon remained at her end of the pool, her presence a constant reminder of my desires. The sun continued to beat down, the air grew hotter, and my arousal reached a fever pitch. The thought of her touch, her kisses, her moans, consumed my every thought.

Finally, as I was nearing the end of my training, she broke the silence once more. She turned around and faced me, her eyes filled with a mischievous glint. She reached behind her and unfastened her bikini top, letting it fall to the ground. Her beautiful breasts were free and inviting. Next, she stepped out of her bikini bottoms, exposing her ample curves and her sensitive flesh.

Sharon reached behind her and found the suntan lotion on the table. She turned back to me and began to work the lotion into her breasts, caressing and pinching her nipples with slow, deliberate movements. The scent of coconut filled the air, adding another layer of sensual pleasure to the scene.

At that point, I was completely lost, consumed by the overwhelming desire that surged through my veins. I dropped my shorts down to my ankles, abandoning all pretense of restraint. My dick popped out hard and proud, slapping against my abdomen. The urge to succumb was too strong to resist.

As I made my way towards her, my heart pounding in my chest, I felt a sense of liberation, a release from the constraints of my former life. The thought of her touch, her kisses, her moans, filled me with an intoxicating anticipation.

“Kiss me,” she whispered, her breath hot against my ear.

As we pulled apart, Sharon reached behind her and found the bottle of tequila she had placed on the table earlier. She poured a generous amount into a plastic cup and offered it to me. “Drink up, lover,” she said, her voice husky with desire.

I took a long swig of the tequila, letting the fiery liquid burn its way down my throat. The alcohol heightened my senses, amplifying the pleasure I was experiencing. The heat intensified, the air grew thicker, and the scent of coconut mingled with the sharp tang of tequila.

As we continued our training, Sharon remained at her end of the pool, her presence a constant reminder of my desires. The sun continued to beat down, the air grew hotter, and my arousal reached a fever pitch. The thought of her touch, her kisses, her moans, consumed my every thought.

Sharon reached behind her and found the bottle of tequila she had placed on the table earlier. She poured a generous amount into a plastic cup and offered it to me. “Drink up, lover,” she said, her voice husky with desire.

My legs began to tremble as I made my way towards her, each step bringing me closer to the inevitable encounter. The sun continued to beat down, the air grew hotter, and my arousal reached a fever pitch. The thought of her touch, her kisses, her moans, consumed my every thought.

“Kiss me,” she whispered, her breath hot against my ear.

“I like those ‘Superman’ briefs–they snug everything up nice and tight,” she said, making fun of my dedication to tight underwear.

“I’m a grower not a show-er, pretty lady,” I responded.

“We’ll have to see about that,” she countered, then reached up with a hand around my neck and returned the cheek peck.

“All in good time, Miss. I’ve still got 25K to go.”

“Hurry along then. I’ll keep myself occupied.”

I smiled and stripped out of my briefs, now fully naked in front of her. Looking into her deep cleavage started to stir things, so I peeled my eyes away and focused on the ride ahead of me. I grabbed a pair of biking shorts off the patio table, quickly doused my upper body in spray-on sunscreen and slipped into my training shoes.

“I’m off!” I declared.

“Why yes, yes you are,” Sharon said through a smile.

I walked down to the other end of the pool and mounted the stationery Tri-trainer cycle I had set up on the pool deck earlier that morning. Shoes were positioned in stirrups. Twenty kilometers or twelve point four miles were between me and the end of stage two.

At her end of the pool, Sharon was setting up her iphone speaker and providing us some tunes. She shrugged out of her cover, sunscreened herself, and sat in one of the many Adirondack chairs on that end of the pool deck.

Sharon called out to me a couple of times, but I couldn’t hear her over the music. I cupped my hand to my ear and shook my head “no.” Eventually she got the message and began her way toward my end of the pool.

As I’ve mentioned before, Sharon is a voluptuous woman with an hourglass figure. Watching her walk toward me with her cleavage prominent and her hips swaying was beginning to energize things below the waistline–the absolute last thing you want to happen when you’re leaning over bike handlebars and a pointed bike seat repeatedly rubbing against your balls and asshole. If things continued their course, there was a good chance I was either going to rupture the boys or give myself a prostate exam.

“Are you hydrating?” Sharon wanted to know as she stopped a few feet from me.

“Yes ma’am,” I replied, holding up the water bottle saddled in the bike’s water harness.

“Good. Wouldn’t want you to dry up on me.”

“No fear of that, pretty lady,” I offered through labored breathing. “I’ve still got 25K to go.”

“Hurry along then. I’ll keep myself occupied.”

I smiled and continued my ride, pushing myself harder than ever before, fueled by the memory of Sharon’s touch and the anticipation of what was to come. The sun beat down relentlessly, but I barely noticed, my focus entirely consumed by the pleasure that lay ahead.

And as I completed my training, pushing my body to its absolute limit, I knew that this experience would forever change the dynamic of our relationship, forever alter the course of our lives. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss, a testament to the power of desire and the enduring allure of forbidden pleasure.

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Triple Threat: Empty Nest Revelations

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