Chapter 1

“Nice garden!”

“Nice ass!”

OK, she spoke those first words, I thought the second.

I had been tending to the garden when she ran. I had been concentrating so much on trying to get that damn vine out of the ground without pulling out the coneflowers with it I did not hear her coming. But when she tossed out that casual compliment while running past my house, she unknowingly opened a few doors to my new life path.

Let us back up here a little bit first.

I had loved running since I was a little girl, taking off down the sidewalk as fast as possible and seeing how far I could run. I kept it until high school when my parents got me to join the cross-country team. From there, it went from being a fun activity to work. And to be too damn competitive. So, I lost interest.

Meanwhile, there were boys. Oh yes, I had interest. But I was an awkward teen, slightly taller and ganglier than average. Yes, I liked many boys in high school but was too shy to do anything about it. Did I look at girls, too? Of course, I did. What ordinary girl did not?

High school turned into real life. I tried attending community college with thoughts of eventually attending university, but it was expensive, and my parents were far from well off. I got a job at a box retailer as a cashier, met a manager there, and had an affair; we eventually married and moved to a bigger town.

Our marriage was over before it had even started. It was not love. I was in love with the power. He just thought I was cute. But, in the end, he loved his job more.

After five years, it was over. I returned home, rented a house, and got a job at a candy store. I also wrote and edited manuals, which did not pay much, but I made enough to get comfortable.

Then, one day, she ran by and complimented my garden.

These are simple words, but something popped into my mind when I heard them. Yes, one of the things was that she had a nice ass.

But I also remembered my love for running. The next day, I went to the nearest big-box retailer, bought a top, shorts, bra, socks, and shoes, and went out for a run that afternoon.

It was fucking miserable. My feet, legs, and lungs hurt; I was covered in sweat.

I did it the following day. And the next. And the next. And so on. There was a running store in town, got some honest wear along with a watch, and began my running journey. The freedom of it all completed the seduction: the ability to go out, work up a sweat, listen to great music, and look at the scenery. I was not fast and always ran alone, but I loved it. I ran a few 5ks and 10ks but rarely said more than a few words to my fellow runners. That childhood shyness still had a solid grasp on me.

Yes, that shyness. It did have a hold on me. It was hard to shake. But man, was I lonely. One night, I dolled myself up and went to a bar downtown. That lasted five minutes, as the crowd and the noise were too much for me.

I had been on several traditional dating sites with varying success then. The few times I went on a date, it was a one-time deal.

One night after an attack of almost terminal horniness, I signed up for a bunch of sex dating sites. I may have had a little wine, too, which helped my boldness. One caught my fancy, so I put some extra work into it and even posted several pictures. I will say that had I not had any wine, those pictures would never have been posted.

My success there was met with varying success. I chatted with a few guys, met a couple of others, and fucked three of them. They were nothing terrible, nothing significant – just me sowing some wild oats.

One night, I got fortunate and brave and posted a picture of myself running. It was a great picture – I looked damn good in it, had a massive smile on my face, and my body was starting to shape up again.

And for a week, nothing. Nada. Zilch.

Until I got the message.

I had again been working in the garden, working up a good sweat and appetite. I fixed myself a wonderful pasta dish with homemade sauce, took a cool shower, and plopped myself at my desktop in my usual evening sweatpants and race t-shirt.

“OMG! I know you!)”

This came from CardGirl303.

Another woman.

“Do you, now?” I replied and clicked on the profile.

Honestly, CardGirl303 looked like she was in the same boat as me. Her profile had a small taste of sadness, loneliness, and desperation for contact. Her pictures tell a different story, showing a very bold woman who is not afraid to show the world her beauty. Wow, did she show every inch of her beauty, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination?

Like my pictures, she showed a lot except her face. Yes, there might be a cropped face with a smile here or a pair of (wanting) eyes there. And, like mine, her only face shot was a finish line picture at a local race.

I knew her!

“OMG! I know you, too! P”

She posted back, “I know, right? This is a first—I’ve never seen another local runner on here, let alone someone I knew!”

“I remember you at the Frannie 5K a few weeks ago. You looked so cute in those pink tights!”

“/me blushes. Thank you. I love those. I have always wanted to talk with you, but you were always gone after the awards.”

“Yeah. Crowds are not my scene.”

“Same here! And it is not easy to hook up when you are covered with a blanket of shyness!”

I laughed. “‘ Blanket of shyness.’ I might steal that sometime.”

“You can take anything from me you want, Babe!” A few seconds later, “Okay, that was weird and bold. Sorry!”

I laughed again. I sipped some more wine. I was getting bolder myself. “That is OK. Your pictures show me many things I would love to steal;).”

“/me blushes. Awww. Thank you. That is sweet.” A couple of seconds later, “I like your third picture. A lot. It is erotic, exotic, sexy, and hawt all at the same time.”

“Thank you. That is sweet of you. It took much wine for me to post that one! Your 14^th picture is one of the hottest ones I have seen on this site. Are you a photographer because it looks professional? It is a compliment when I say it is something I expect to see in a centerfold shot.”

She took a while to reply, and I thought I had scared her off. “Thank you. I love that one, too. I am simply good with my phone. Nothing too fancy, just set up the timer, lay in the bed, and spread my money maker like I was offering a meal...”

“You are so bad!” I was laughing by now. I was also a bit drunk. And a bit horny. This was a deadly combination. “I would eat that meal with great joy.”

This reply was almost instantaneous. “LMAO!” Then, a few moments later, another reply. “Seriously, that is hot to think about. Your profile doesn’t say anything about you being into women.”

I sighed and took a small inventory of myself. “Yes. I know,” I wrote. “Look, I have never been with a woman. I guess I have thought about it a few times. Many times.”

“Me too,” she wrote. “I have kissed a couple of women, but nothing more than that. You know, friends stuff. But nothing more than that. The man thing on here ... it’s not working out.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

We spent the next half hour talking about men, especially men on the site, and how “no” was not prominent in their conversations.

We both described to the others in detail a couple of the sexual encounters we had.

Then, unexpectedly, in the middle of the conversation, she wrote, “Hey, I hope this isn’t weird if I ask for your number, but can I have your number? I want to hear your voice.”

I gulped. This was becoming a lot more real than I had expected. I took another sip of wine and gave her my number, hardly believing what my fingers were doing.

A few seconds later, my cell phone rang.

“Hello,” said the voice on the other end. She was quiet, reserved, and almost hesitant, I could tell.

“Hi there,” I said. I barely choked the words out.

“Hey there, you,” she said. She seemed more relaxed. “it’s nice hearing your voice.”

“I like hearing your voice, too.” I put my face in my hand. That was a terrible line, but that was all I had.

She chuckled on the other end. “I was afraid ... I thought you might be a guy. I mean ... It does happen, guys pretending to be women on here.”

“I’ve seen it too,” I said. “I guess I was slightly afraid of the same thing.”

She let out a little sigh. There was a moment’s silence between us as we listened to each other breath. “I think I kinda like you,” she blurted out quickly and quietly.

I gulped. “I kind of like you, too,” I answered. “I’m sorry; I am just echoing your words.”

“It is OK, Cindy. I am not expecting you to speak an oral masterpiece here,” she said with a chuckle.

“Mmmmm. Oral,” I said without thinking, then let out an embarrassed squeak of a laugh.

She cracked up. “Uh-huh.”

We talked for an hour, feeling each other’s emotions and telling each other a little about our lives. In her early thirties, Shelly was also divorced, worked as an accountant, and had been running for over 20 years. She had been on that site for over three years, with varying degrees of success. But, she said, most of the time, she was on when she was horny and looking for a nice, quick fuck.

During that time, I migrated from my computer desk to bed. The sun was setting, putting on an incredible orange display.

“Were you horny when you got on tonight?” I asked. By now, I was getting a lot more comfortable talking with her.

“Oh, like wildfire,” she said. “I have been edging myself all night!”

I giggled. “Well, I feel like I kept you from that dream hookup tonight!”

She laughed again and then was silent for a moment. “Maybe you are my dream hookup tonight,” she said quietly.

I felt like all the butterflies in my stomach pushed all the air out of my lungs. I smiled. I sighed. “That is sweet,” I said.

“I could just be trying to get into your panties for a one-night shot!” She said, still shy but a little bit louder.

“I would so let you,” I said quietly.

There was a pause at the other end.

“I am so wet right now,” she said, this time even quieter.

“So am I.”

There was a satisfied sigh on the other end. “I am happy I messaged you. I have loved talking to you.”

“You have been wonderful,” I said. “I have had fun.”

Another sigh. “You are so beautiful.” A pause and a sigh. “I like your pictures. A lot.”

I turned on my side and glanced at my computer. One of my favorite pictures of her was still on the screen. “I am looking at one of yours right now,” I said. “I am ... it has me very wet.”

She let out another sigh. “I ... uh ... I’m ... I’m playing with myself right now.” She let out another sigh. “I am very wet, too.”

I rolled over onto my back, barely able to believe my ears. “That is so hot.”

“Here ... wait ... check your messages in a minute...”

A couple of seconds later, I got a message notification. I opened it. It was her number, just a picture of her face, eyes closed, her beautiful blond hair splayed around her head on her pillow.

“You are so fucking sexy,” I said. I opened the camera app on my chat and took a picture of my face, attempting to put on the sultriest face I had. I made several attempts before finally sending the first one I had taken.

Another sigh. “I want to kiss those lips so bad,” she said softly.

“I would like that.” My fingers had slipped under my sweatpants waistband, finding my wetness. I let out a sigh.

“Are you playing with yourself?”

I got very bold. I took a picture of my hand disappearing into my sweat and sent it to her without hesitation.

She groaned. A couple of moments later, I got a message. Another picture of her. This time, it showed her hand between two beautifully tanned legs, hand pressed hard against her treasured spot.

“Oh wow,” I whispered, my fingers working in earnest.

Her breathing became heavier. Little moans dotted the sounds occasionally. I answered with the same.

I heard a beep. “I have you on speaker so I can put the phone down,” she breathed heavily. I did the same.

As I listened to her breathing and groaning get louder, I also did the same as my pleasure intensified.

“I am pretending these are my fingers,” she said at one point.

“Pretend they are my fingers and tongue,” I answered.

Her breathing intensified.

We did not say another word together but did not need it. The sounds of her breath, moans, groans, and light grunts were more than enough for me.

After what seemed like hours but only minutes, I let out a loud grunt as my body released the pleasure I had been pursuing. Seconds later, Shelly let out a loud moan and a little squeak, followed by catching her breath.

I lay there for several moments, beautiful lights and images dancing in my mind’s eye.

“That was wonderful,” she said. I agreed.

We spent another hour talking, small talk, sexy talk, pillow talk. Finally, as my eyelids grew heavy and her voice began to sound tired, we agreed to call it a night, exchanging kisses over the phone.

The following day, I awoke to a message.

One was from Shelly. “I loved it! XXOO”

Shelly and I briefly talked on the site during the next few days. Eventually, our conversations moved to the phone and instant messaging. We added each other on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram and talked with each other a lot there.

We talked about everything, from our childhood dreams to our present jobs, our greatest successes and failures, and our running past and present. We found out we had both signed up for a local half marathon two weeks from then.

And, yes, we had quite a lot of virtual sex. We found plenty of opportunities to exchange steamy words, whether by phone or text.

One night, as she was using her vibrator, she lowered the phone and let me hear her buzzing toy squishing in and out of her. Oh my, that was such an orgasm for us both! I then did the same for her and, bang, another intense orgasm.

Another Saturday afternoon, during a texting session, she sent a snapshot of her with her fingers deep inside of herself, her cute face peeking from behind her breasts in the background, a massive smile on her face. I answered with a picture between my spread legs, showing her my wetness as well as an attempt at a seductive smile on my face.

Finally, one evening, we agreed to meet the next morning for an early morning run at about 5:30. It was to be our last training run before the half marathon, and we agreed that an easy pace together would be a great idea.

We agreed at a nearby park, about two miles from my apartment via the bike path and a mile via the street. I barely slept that night and was fully awake at 3. I was dressed and ready to run in a pair of noticeably short pink shorts and my light blue sports bra. I have a nice body – running certainly helps – but that get-up made me slightly wet. Any shorter, and those shorts were going to be under my armpits. I tried looking at my butt in the mirror, but you know how “easy” that is. From what I could see, it almost looked like you could see everything if I bent down enough. That was to my satisfaction. I wore those shorts and bras often during the summer, and it would be hot today. Yes, I was trying to look sexy but being miserable while running was not a very seductive look.

The butterflies in my stomach were migrating to all parts of my body. Good grief, my nerves were on edge in anticipation of meeting Shelly face-to-face for the first time. I worried and fretted over everything; having all that extra time certainly did not help.

By about 4:30, I nervously paced the apartment, wearing a hole in the living room floor. Finally, needing to get rid of enough nervous energy to light the town, I put on a headlamp and took off towards the park. It was not a fast run, but I could still work up a good sweat in the warm temperatures.

When I arrived, it was still dark. Some faint hints of light appeared to the east this morning, but no clouds were in the sky. It had become light enough that I could switch off my headlamp and see fine.

Fortunately, that park has plenty of port-a-potties, and nature told me I needed one. It was more of my nerves, however.

After using it, I began a fast walk around the small loop of the park so my muscles would not cool down. The loop was about a kilometer, with very few trees in the middle, so I could keep my eye on the path once Shelly came around. A couple of times, my heart would skip a beat when I thought I saw her, but both of those times, it ended up being someone else walking their dog.

It was still early, a little bit after five, when I saw a figure in the distance entering the park, moving at a respectable pace. I picked up my own pace and ran towards the figure. We were still about five hundred feet from each other when we knew it was the other, exchanging waves and quickening our paces to meet.

As we neared, Shelly’s face lit up the area with a beautiful smile and energetic wave, cheerfully calling out, “Hello, Cindy!”

She looked stunned. Her top was a very loose yellow sleeveless shirt from the running store. From the side, I could see her bright green running bra. She had cut the shirt’s bottom, about six inches above her belly button, showing a very flat, fit tummy.

Her tights were about as tight as tights, a dark purple with little dark blue fireworks everywhere. They came down about halfway on her sculpted upper thigh. The tights themselves wrapped around every curve and crevasse of hers like I wanted to wrap my arms. I swear, she hardly had an ounce of fat on her body.

Hardly stopping, she wrapped her arms around me in a friendly hug, pulling me close as we laughed and giggled. “It is so nice to meet you finally, Cindy!”

“I know,” I said, hugging her close to me.

Still hugging, we pulled our heads back to exchange glances. Her smiling face almost blinded me. She gently put a hand on the side of my face, swallowed it, and gave me a quick kiss on the lips, parting with a little giggle and pointing down at my feet.

She said, “Shoe twins!” she said.

We both had the same pair, style, and color of the latest Hoka Clifton. We both laughed for a little bit. She leaned in for another kiss and said softly, “You look remarkable.”

“So do you,” I replied, then we broke our hug. “Are you ready to do this thing?” I asked, to which she replied with a nod.

It was an easy session that felt natural, real, fulfilling, and enlightening and gave us plenty of time to explore each other. We sprinted, not letting our speed overtake our breath. At first, we exchanged small talk, then explored some topics about life that we had covered before but had gone into more deeply. We talked a little about our marriages and how we were finding that men sucked a bit.

“There’s nice ones out there,” she said at one point. “I keep trying to tell myself that. But every time I think I have found a nice one, he turns out to be an ass one way or another.”

Our conversation turned to other women. Having run in town for quite a few years, we were able to compare notes about other runners, who were the fastest, who put in the most miles, and who we thought were the cutest.

“There is a girl I see out there every once in a while,” Shelly said. “No idea about her name, but I know from race awards that she is over eighteen, so we have that. She is so cute like everyone goes out! She looks so unassuming, but she seems to watch and smile at everyone there. He barely says a word, however. We have exchanged glances a couple of times, and the stuff I would do to her!”

I chuckled. “I believe our paths have crossed, too. She has an adorable butt!”

Shelly slowed down for a moment and looked at me behind. “So do you!” she said with a giggle, which I joined.

We slowed to a walk at the park’s far end, still exchanging chit-chat. At that end is the entrance to a nature reserve. She grabbed my hand and led me to that gravel path.

We walked silently along the path for a little while, holding hands. Yes, the butterflies were in full flight in my stomach now.

We stopped at a little deck the city had built overlooking a wetland. We leaned on the deck, side by side, close enough to touch, looking out at the sun just beginning to rise above the horizon, its reflection dancing in the water below.

I put my arm around her waist, and she did the same. My other hand rested on the deck railing, and she put her hand on top of mine. I turned to look at her, but she was already looking at me. We smiled. We kissed deeply, passionately.

We stood from the railing, kissing, pulling our bodies tight against each other. I opened my mouth to welcome her tongue, my tongue dancing with her, moving into her mouth. Her breath grew deeper. My breath grew deeper. My hands roamed her back. Her hands roamed my back. Our bodies were pressed against each other. The butterflies were all over the place.

With a reluctant groan, her lips moved from mine. She looked into my eyes as she gently chewed her lower lip. “Gotta work today, don’t you?”

I nodded.

“Yeah, me too,” Shelly said. She kept her eyes locked on me, still nibbling on her lower lip. “I want to make love to you so bad. But I want it to last. No quickies.”

“Yes,” I said, nodding in agreement, my body crying angrily for knowing it would have to wait longer.

“I have an idea, though, if you trust me enough. We can...” She paused, searching for the words, then blurted, “We can watch each other play with ourselves.”

“Here!” I choked it out.

She laughed. “No, not here. You live close, right?”

I nodded eagerly.

She broke from my embrace and took off on a dead run.

It took me a bit to keep up with her, but desire kept me running faster than I had in quite a while. Once we left the park, I led the way to my apartment.

We rushed inside, falling onto the couch in a heated kiss; she was on top of me. We kissed with such passion I thought I would erupt, her lips locking with mine in a perfect vacuum, our tongues sliding together in their seductive dance. I ran my hands over her back, exploring her muscles, as one of her hands grasped the side of my waist, slowly moving up and down.

Our kiss broke suddenly as she let out a little gasp. I looked at her in confusion. I saw her looking at me, her eyes gazing slightly. Something bumped into the top of my thigh, moved away, and bumped into it again. My own eyes moved down her beautiful body, stopping for a moment to marvel at the sight of her breasts heaving in her heavy breath, sticking out slightly from her shirt. Then my eyes caught a movement further down, catching one of her hands moving inside her tights, rubbing back and forth.

She let out another little gasp, caught my gaze, and nodded.

I moved one of my own hands from her back and slid it slowly over her body until it was between my legs. I rubbed the outside of my shorts for a fleeting moment, then slid my hands under my waistband with a little gasp of my own.

Her face lit up with a smile.

She shifted a little bit so she was on her hands and knees over my prone body, her other hand inside of her tights, rubbing herself. I watched her move her body and watched her eyes as I also touched myself.

“I am so wet right now,” she said with a deep breath.

I nodded. “So am I, Shelly. I am drenched.

She almost fell on top of me as she let out slow pants of pleasure and as I played with myself, breathing a little faster with each movement of my hand and with the feelings of each of her movements. We hugged tightly, her breath on my neck, her lips kissing softly. I kissed the top of her head as I slid a finger inside of me.

Her lips moved to my ear, whispering, “I am so close ... I want to watch you cum. I want you to watch me cum...”

She moved her lips from my ear to my lips, planting a big, enthusiastic kiss on them. Then she almost threw herself onto the other side of the sofa on her back, peeling off her tights in one quick motion and lying her head on the armrest, her legs spread wide open to give me the perfect view as her hands went to work on herself.

I quickly tossed off my shorts, spreading my legs to allow her to see everything I wanted to offer to her.

At that, she gasped and began playing furiously with herself. I did the same, putting one finger inside of me and another on my button.

The feelings, the sensations, the sounds, and especially the view were too much for me. I erupted first, and she quickly followed as I watched the white foam around her sweet opening almost flow out of her. She arched her back, letting out a soft scream as the orgasm hit her body. I did the same.

I flipped myself on the sofa, falling into her arms. Our lips found each other as we kissed ourselves in our hazy bliss. The kisses slowed, and we finally sat on the sofa, arm in arm. She looked at her watch.

“Shit. Forgot to hit pause,” she said with a giggle. “That will count as a cardio workout!”

I giggled as we dressed, our conversation again drifting to small talk.

As she left, she gave me a little kiss and a smile. “I will see you at the half Saturday.” She paused. “Do you have any plans?” I shook my head. She smiled a long time. “Good. I want to reward you afterward.”

With that, she left the apartment, but very much into my life.

The half marathon was two days away when Shelly and I had our encounter.

After that, we agreed to abstain from anything with each other and any masturbation.

It had long been an unofficial tradition of mine to abstain from orgasm shortly before a race. It was not superstition – it was simply to conserve energy.

We met on the morning of the race in nearby Springfield, where we exchanged hugs. A few of her friends were nearby, to whom she introduced me. Most of them were female; a couple were men. We talked briefly about our latest running explorations and exchanged training notes. It had been the most I had talked to people before a race in my lifetime.

Shelly looked stunning, as usual. Her hair was up and perfectly framed her perfect face. She wore a cropped short-sleeved T-shirt, which again accented her flat tummy. Her tights seemed extra tight; I could see a hint of her mound. They were dark blue with galaxies, stars, and planets all over. I swear a galaxy lay right over her back star, a little pearl of a planet where her pearl would sit.

The gun went off, and we were off. Some of our group zipped ahead, others trailed behind, while Shelly and I stayed together. We agreed to take it easy today – this was the first of three half marathons in six weeks.

Overall, it was a good race. Neither one of us set a personal record, but we ran respectable times. We both crossed the finish line at about the same time—she finished a little bit ahead of me as I had lost some gas during the last mile. We gave each other a tight, sweaty hug, grabbed a bottle of water and a banana, and cheered other runners on as they were finishing while talking with each other and other runners about the race.

Per our plans, Shelly and I met at an Italian restaurant that evening. Yes, I know – one is supposed to carb load before the race, but we also felt we needed a reward afterward.

I put on one of my cutest sun dresses, a light blue with darker blue hearts as a pattern, spaghetti straps, and ending about six inches above my knees. Some light blue lace panties were my choice of underwear, and I had all intents and purposes of showing them all to Shelly that night.

Naturally, she was stunning. Her top was a light green loose-fitting button shirt, the first three buttons undone, and the bottom two. As seemed the case with all her outfits, the shirt came down just below her navel. Her light green skirt was another loose-fitting outfit but seemed more the size of a belt than a skirt. Every time she turned around, I could see a hint of her lime green panties.

We got a private booth to the side, exchanged kisses on the cheeks, ordered, and partook in casual small talk as we ate our meals and drank our wines. Naturally, the conversation turned to sex.

“When was the last time you had sex with a man?” she asked me at one point.

“I’ve met a couple of guys from the site. The last one ... it was around Christmas, so eight months. How about you?”

“Three months. Around then, I was going through a period where I was hooking up at least once a week. But a lot was missing. It was just fucking, no emotion, truly little pleasure.” She sighed. “I had even stopped masturbating after a while because I felt like I was losing interest in sex completely.”

I nodded. “Same. I last had an orgasm in February, and that was with myself. I never had a guy make me cum. Around then, I guess I just started getting frustrated and used running as my stimulation instead.” I gulped down a little bit of wine.

“You have never been with a woman before, Cindy?” she asked me before taking a long sip of her wine. “I mean ... before a couple of nights ago.”