Go exercising with Amy

The next day, I took out my frustrations with exercise, putting everything I had into my after-school run with Amy. I was punishing myself to the limit, especially considering how recently I had been let out of the hospital. Amy didn’t say anything, she just upped her own pace to match mine and we ran in silence.

I was a mess of feelings. Fears about my friendship with Stephanie, insecurities about my first sexual experience, and an unrelenting, unbearable state of arousal. Every time I stopped to think, my head overloaded with memories of Stephanie. Her orgasmic moans, her soft fingers on my hardness, her buttocks in my hands…

At the end of our runs, Amy and I would race to the finish and, without fail, I would always fall behind my beautiful friend. No matter how hard I tried, Amy was always the better athlete and she could always outrun me.

That race started like any other. Amy pulled ahead of me, as always. And my eyes locked onto the incredibly toned ass in those tight cotton shorts of hers, as always. I had fantasized about Amy’s ass constantly for the better part of a year, but on that day I was so frustrated, so insecure, so goddamn horny that I couldn’t stand it. I was filled with the sudden impulse to tackle Amy to the grass and tear those shorts off with my bare hands. I wanted to hold her down and bury my face between her legs, licking and teasing her into a state of absolute bliss while my hands grabbed onto the amazing ass she had tormented me with for so long.

She would scream in pleasure, begging me to make her come, oblivious to all the other people gathered around, watching us in stunned surprise. She’d slide her hands up under her sports bra and aggressively tug at her own nipples in an attempt to bring herself to the orgasm I denied her. She would shout out every known obscenity, bucking her hips against my face, slathering my cheeks with her hot juices. Her red hair would toss back and forth like wild fire–

FUCK! She’s your friend! You’re JUST friends! What is wrong with you, Ian? Why does everything have to be about sex?

I ran as hard as I could. Ran until I was cold and my legs felt numb. For the first time, I actually outran Amy; put her behind me just so I wouldn’t have to see her ass anymore. By the time we reached the end of our run it hurt to breathe. I collapsed onto my back and let the sky above spin in my vision. Amy caught up a few seconds later, positively shocked—maybe even a little angry she lost.

“What is up with you today?” she panted, flopping to the grass beside me.

I couldn’t have told her even if I wanted to. I was fighting just to get air in my lungs, so talking was out of the question. She pulled her knee up into a stretch that accentuated that goddamn motherfucking perfect ass of hers. She thought for a moment, then asked, “You got blue-balls or something? No chance to rub one out in the hospital?”

“You have no idea,” I managed.

“Come on, get up,” Amy ordered, socking me in the shoulder. “I’ve got something to show you.”

Amy’s house was just up the block, but my legs could barely make it there after that run. Amy lived alone with her police officer dad, and he was on duty that evening, so we had the place entirely to ourselves. She led me inside her smallish bedroom, adorned with macho action movie posters, a litany of athletic trophies, and a frilly pink bed. The girl really lived the contradiction.