During the usual schedule - with a twist

Admitting my feelings was only half the battle. Letting Amy know was another challenge I needed to figure out - a conventional confession with ballroom clothes, candlelit dinner and other fancy razzmatazz wasn't going to work with her.

As things turned out, the most obvious solution turned out to be the best solution, and an opportunity soon presented itself. It was two days after the pep talk with Corrine and Elizabeth, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I showed up for my usual afternoon run at the park, and Amy was already there doing some stretches while waiting for me. The sight of her sent a slight pang of guilt through me, having missed the last few sessions, but Amy's confident smirk soon put paid to that sentiment.

"So, finally decided to show up, did you?" she grinned. "Have a lot on your mind?"

"Yeah, but it's better now," I admitted. "Now that I've had some time to think things through."

"Damn right it'd better be better." Amy grunted while she stretched, the position emphasizing her powerful curves. I shrugged, returning the smile as I joined in the movements. "Now you'd better not have gone soft on me after moping the last two days away," she teased with a punch to the arm.

"Wouldn't dream of it," I replied. The plan had already begun to fall into place as I mirrored her warm-up exercises, watching her contort her body into alluring positions. Coming to terms with myself rekindled the fantasies I had of Amy, pressing our sweaty forms together while we had our way with each other, relentless and hard and dirty, screaming our arousal and passion without a care in the world.

For the plan to work, I would have to call on all the stamina, control and discipline Amy had drilled into me over the past year.

The race started out as usual, with Amy trailing ahead - but the months of practicing with her had paid off. Keeping up with Amy was no longer as painful as before, and I had closed the average distance between us from what felt like half a mile to a couple of yards at most. Still, Amy always won our races, using her superior athletic prowess to overtake me each time I managed to briefly pull ahead of her. Eventually I decided that the race I had with her before she modeled in swimsuits for me was a one-time thing, and that winning wasn't the important thing about my sessions with Amy.

This time, there was no way I was going to settle for that.

As we rounded the second bend, I decided it was now or never. I pushed my foot hard against the path just as we curved, forcing the momentum through my body like I used to when trying to overtake her. Amy didn't mind; we both knew that she would outpace me before we made it halfway to the next turn, but this time was going to be different.

In the brief moment that I passed by her, I reached my hand out and gave her heaven-sent hindquarters a good, solid grab before running ahead.

The sound of footsteps slowing made me turn my gaze, to see that Amy had actually ground to a brief halt, her face frozen in an expression of disbelief. Her hand reflexively grazed the cheek where I goosed her, and time itself seemed to slow down. The sound of her deep, breathy panting; the mixture of surprise and arousal in her eyes; the sight of her nipples hardening against her sports bra...

I gave her the biggest, goofiest shit-eating grin I could muster. Then I ran like hell.