Runner’s High

A Sexual Fantasy

— By Cupid

Her running clothes lay scattered on the floor. No time to put them away in an orderly fashion, her lust had been too intense for that. Now she was moaning loudly and uncontrollably while she was riding him on the couch, her long light brown pony tail skipping rhythmically to the movements of their love-making. The sweat accumulated during her workout mingled with the sweat produced during the sex and by her arousal, and she keenly felt the wetness and warmth between her legs as she let his penis glide in and out of her. Using the remaining energy of her workout, she accelerated the speed of her movements more and more, until her heart beat faster and harder than she had ever felt it beat in her life. It felt like every cell of her body was shot through with energy, with life. It felt like too much, like she couldn’t breathe anymore, like her heart could stop beating any moment. But she trusted her body, and surrendered to her all-consuming arousal.
He all the while enjoyed the sight of her sweat-drenched, shimmering body and felt even more aroused than usually by it. His penis was as hard as a rock and glided into her vagina without his having anything to do for it, her rhythmical movements doing all the work by themselves. Usually, he didn’t like being in the passive role during sex, but this time, he liked it; actually, to his surprise, it aroused him even more than being in the active role he would normally have.
Her moaning became even louder and deeper, her breathing as well as her heartbeat even faster, while she kept riding him with big yet fast-paced leaps. He felt that she was about to come now. And she did: with a deep cry of relief, she surrendered to her "little death", her vagina drenched from her own vaginal fluid and his semen. Trembling, and with a tear in her eye, she leaned over and hugged him. It had been the most intense runner’s high of her life.