Altitude

The air in the chalet was thin and sharp, carrying the scent of pine resin and cold stone, a stark contrast to the humid musk of the city gym we’d left behind. Outside, snow fell in fat, silent flakes, sealing us in a world of our own. My client, Lena, stood by the huge window, her reflection a ghost against the twilight. She was a force in the gym, all disciplined power, but here, in a wool sweater and leggings, she looked softer, her dark hair loose around her shoulders.

“I still can’t believe you convinced me to do this, Marcus,” she said, her voice a low murmur that vibrated right through me. “A weekend retreat with my trainer. Very professional.”

I leaned against the kitchen counter, watching the curve of her spine. “You said you needed a break from the routine. I figured altitude was the ultimate reset.” The tension between us had been building for months, a quiet current under every rep, every spot. It was crackling now, electric in the still air.

She turned, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. “And what’s the workout plan for tonight?”

I didn’t answer with words. I just crossed the room, the floorboards groaning under my boots. Her eyes widened slightly, but she held her ground. I stopped a breath away, close enough to feel the heat radiating from her. “Cardio,” I said, my voice rough. “High intensity.”

Her smile vanished, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated want. “I’m ready.”

I slid my hand behind her neck, pulling her into a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was a claim, hungry and deep. She moaned into my mouth, her hands fisting in my shirt. I backed her up against the rough-hewn wooden wall, the impact forcing a gasp from her. My other hand found the hem of her sweater, yanking it up and over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her tits were perfect, full and tipped with dark, hard nipples.

“Fuck, Lena,” I breathed, my thumbs brushing over the stiff peaks. She arched into my touch, her head falling back against the wood with a soft thud.

“More,” she demanded. “Don’t tease me, Marcus. I’ve been thinking about this for weeks.”

I dropped to my knees, my hands working at the waistband of her leggings. I pulled them down, along with her black lace panties, in one swift motion. The scent of her, clean and womanly, hit me. Her pussy was already glistening, her dark curls trimmed neat. I didn't hesitate. I buried my face between her thighs, my tongue swiping through her slick folds, from her entrance to her clit.

“Jesus,” she hissed, her fingers digging into my hair. “Yes.”

I lapped at her, slow and deliberate, circling her clit until she was trembling. I pushed a finger inside her, feeling her hot, tight walls clench around it. She was so wet, so ready. I added a second finger, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside her. Her hips bucked against my face, her moans turning into frantic, breathless pants.

“I’m close,” she gasped, her thighs tightening around my head.

I pulled back, my chin slick with her. “Not yet.” I stood, my own cock straining painfully against my jeans. I unbuckled my belt, unzipped, and pulled my jeans and boxers down just enough to free it. It was thick and hard, the head already leaking pre-cum.

I turned her around, pressing her chest against the cold glass of the window. The snow was still falling, but all I could see was her reflection, her flushed face, her perfect ass raised for me. “Look at yourself,” I ordered, my voice low. “Look at how fucking beautiful you are.”

I grabbed her hips, positioning myself at her entrance. I could feel the heat of her, the slick invitation. I pushed in, not slow, not gentle. A deep, hard thrust that seated me fully inside her. We both groaned. She was so fucking tight, squeezing me like a fist.

“Oh god, Marcus,” she whimpered, her palms flat against the glass.

I started to move, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in. The sound of our bodies meeting was obscene, wet and rhythmic. I reached around, my fingers finding her clit again, rubbing in tight circles as I pounded into her. She was a mess of sensation, crying out with every stroke.

“Is this what you wanted?” I grunted, driving into her harder. “To get fucked against a window on a mountain?”

“Yes… yes… fuck, don’t stop,” she begged, her voice cracking.

I could feel my own climax building, a tight coil in my balls. But I wanted to feel her come first. I shifted my angle, hitting deeper, harder. Her whole body went rigid, a guttural cry torn from her throat as her orgasm crashed over her. Her pussy convulsed around my cock, milking me.

That was all it took. I buried myself as deep as I could go, a guttural groan escaping me as I came, my cum flooding her, hot and thick. I stayed there, inside her, both of us panting, our breath fogging the cold glass. The storm outside seemed to have quieted, the world muffled and still.

I pulled out slowly, my cock slipping from her with a wet sound. I turned her around, her face was flushed, her lips swollen, a lazy, satisfied smile on her face. She laughed, a light, breathy sound.

“So,” she said, her voice husky. “Is that part of the standard training package?”

I laughed, pulling her into my arms. “No. That’s the premium, members-only service.” I kissed her forehead. “I’m going to have to put you on a very strict maintenance program.”

CATEGORIES: [Fitness, Outdoor, Rough sex, Just the Two of Us]