You Can Do It at the YMCA

You Can Do It at the YMCA

     I stand revealed in naked curves. My hips rotate neath the shower spray. The warm pellets of water sting into my breasts with hot pleasure. My nipples swell under the warm beads as they rain against my soft skin. I feel so alone in this place where I have come to find solace in sweaty pelvis thrusts on the machines.
     You have watched me oh so closely as I lie flat on my stomach my tights wet with perspiration. Your eyes gaze hungrily at my flexing glutes,  as cat-like I work my body teasing you with intimations of what I might be like in bed. I glance up at you on the weight machine seeing your dark Spanish eyes so full of heat and flame. I know how much you want me but you will have to wait. I want you so hungry you lose control. I need you to need me so bad it hurts.
     Now, my nipples harden as I stand under the relentless singe of steaming water as it cascades across my torso and meets my pink triangle. I close my eyes and imagine your hands cupping my breasts. My hand strays down to my nether region; fingertips press against my swollen bud. Knowing that I might get caught only adds to my naughty pleasure. I hear the door creak open behind me but am so close I can’t stop. I start to moan. I feel a woman’s pelvis press tightly against my rear. Her firm breasts impinge on my back. A hand clasps my mouth stifling a groan.
    A strong hand grasps my hand, pulling it away from my sex and pins it behind my back. I stand motionless whimpering with desire. I hear your sultry Spanish voice whisper into my ear. As you brush the wet mat of hair from my neck you say, “You have been so bad, teasing me all these months.” I feel the stinging hand kiss of your slap upon my taut derriere. The wet slaps echo across the tiled walls.
    You draw my arms up in this my rosy crucifixion. Your brawny arms spread my legs as I arch my back, my sex displayed, an offering to you my dark Madonna. I feel your palm’s velvety touch as you slide them down my back and across my buns squeezing them tenderly. Your long black hair falls across my ass as you kneel behind me on shower mat and descend into the nether world of my sex. Your lips graze my soft bottom skin leaving a trail of holy fire. Your kisses emblazon my soft inner thighs branding me with the mark of your lips as the fire of lust engulfs my womanhood.
     You seem to know me like a sister as though we came from the same womb. All I can feel is heat and flame. All I need is your passion. With your strong hands you part my buns. You trace your tongue across my swollen pink petals lapping up and down like a kitten sipping milk. I gyrate against your mouth. My sex pulsates to the rhythm of your tongue lashing. Each stroke of your warm speech organ sends shivers of delight shooting up my spine.
    You speak to me with soft thrusts into my tunnel each penetration telling me of your love. Your speech organ rolls across my flower arcing into my bud with syllables of love, melodiously splashing across my inner sanctum. You fill me with rivers of love as your lips bubble in delicious tickles across my erect stamen encircling me in a fortress of pleasure.
    My surrender to you is unconditional. My sugar walls contract in spasms of ecstasy obliterating all walls between us. Tantric energy burns away my ego till I float in a boundless ocean of bliss as my shakras ignite in primordial starfire.
    I fall to the floor arcing into your embrace. My body melts into the purist essence as I lie against your heaving breasts. My body shudders with aftershock as the tremors pass through me. Your full rosy lips meet mine. Your tool of speech passes wetly into my mouth telling me of your knowledge of me with the taste of my honey sweet sap.
     As though waking from a dream I hear the door creak open. Giggles erupt from the two women. I start humming that Village People song, “You can do it at the YMCA.”