Post-race

Research shows that women are aerobically superior to men, according to a running podcast to which I subscribe. I'm sure the usual disclaimers apply, but this came to mind as we were running a local 10K on a Sunday and she was long out of site ahead of me. Soon enough the finish line was in sight and I saw her standing there, with a post-race glow and her medals around her neck.

I finished and she hugged me. We walked hand-in-hand through the post-race booths, stopping here and there to sample new gels or energy bars before heading through the parking lot to our car. We talked about the race course, some of the other runners, and the next race as I drove home.

She showered as I mixed smoothies for us, then it was my turn. A nap was called for after the race, and she was already on our bed when I joined her. She nestled in against me and drifted off as I read from my Kindle. Soon her breathing and the effort caught up to me and I joined her in napland.

A little later I felt a cool breeze on my face. The fog was rolling in and I'd left the window above our bed open. I pulled the weighted blanket over her and got out of bed, just putting on some sweats and a short sleeve shirt. It was later than I had planned, so I fired up the grill and dressed some asparagus in EVOO and balsamic to accompany the chicken I had marinating.

She came out a little while later, looking adorable. One benefit of a second marriage is that you appreciate your partner more while being aware of your own faults. It had been more than a decade now since my first wife passed and I counted myself lucky every time I looked at this woman whose life I got to share.

We kissed and she pressed against me, getting a rise out of my long cock. She asked how long until dinner, but I had to disentangle myself as the timer went off for the grill. She pretended to pout but went to set the table and pour the drinks.

After dinner she cleaned the dishes as I did the same for the grill. She then asked if I could take the dog for a walk as she needed to check her work email before the morning. I was happy to take the doggie out, but less happy about her work email.

She'd been really stressed lately and I had a bad feeling about where things were going at the firm. We'd talked about it often, and would talk about it more. One thing I've learned is to keep my mouth shut and to listen. I trusted she'd get where she needed to be and I'd be there with her.

It was on my mind as, during dinner, she'd reached across the table and taken my hand. Thanking me for my patience with her lately. She also teased that she'd made some purchases lately that would more than reward me for my patience. I leaned over and kissed her.

I had an idea what these purchases might be, as it is difficult to hide an SW boots box and there had been a couple of unexpected deliveries lately. I told her I loved her and that I understood and looked forward to the surprises.

I walked our labradoodle and was sitting on the deck, watching the moon rise when she came out, wearing her long sweater, almost to her knees. She climbed into my lap and pressed her hand against my chest, her head on my shoulder. I kissed her cheek as she sighed.

"I know I promised you a surprise, but I can't right now, I'm sorry," she started. "Tomorrow's going to be a shitshow and I'm already dreading it." I kissed her.

"But," she said mischievously, "I also need you, right now." She unbuckled my shorts and pulled my long cock out. She moved her panties aside and guided me into her. The cooling night air surrounding us as she spread her legs around my waist and took me deeper. She wriggled and bit my earlobe and rocked. I thrust my hips in rhythm and soon I was hitting her spot.

After a little bit, she rose on my lap and pushed down, let out a long, heavy but soft sigh, and leaned into me. Sated and relaxed, for the moment. We kissed, passionately, before she eased herself off of me and we headed to the bedroom hand-in-hand.