Natural Endurance

Katie Morrison arrived home at eight the next morning while I was eating Cheerios at the kitchen island feeling like absolute death.

Jet lag plus guilty conscience plus the fact I'd shagged her mum twelve hours ago equals one rough morning.

Door opens. I look up.

Oh fuck me sideways.

Twenty-three. Tall like Steve but shaped like Megan. Dark hair past her shoulders. Running shorts showing legs that went on for days. Cornell t-shirt, definitely no bra. Trainers that cost more than my flight.

Looked like a Nike advert. Or one of those American teen films where everyone's impossibly fit and you know they're all actually thirty.

"You're Dan." Dumps her bag by the door. "The Brit runner Dad won't shut up about."

"That's me. You're Katie, yeah?"

"Unfortunately." Goes straight to the fridge. Pours orange juice. Leans against the counter. "Jet lag bad?"

"Yeah, brutal."

She looks at me properly. Really looks. Up and down in a way that makes me feel like a piece of meat, which felt kinda perverse but sexy. "Wanna run? Show you the trails before Dad gets back and makes it all structured and boring."

My Dad always said I lacked impulse control. Proved him right at least four times at Cambridge, including that time with Felicity Carter at his mate's garden party. But this seems fine, right? Just a run. Perfectly innocent.

Twenty minutes later we're on this forest trail and she's absolutely legging it. Proper quick.

I'm trying to keep up but blimey, she's fast. And I'm knackered. Been up half the night fucking her mum and now I'm watching said mum's daughter's arse bounce ahead of me in those tight running shorts and my brain's going this is wrong mate, very wrong, abort mission.

However, my cock has other ideas.

She stops at this clearing. Bends over, hands on knees, breathing hard. Her t-shirt rides up showing her lower back. No tan lines. Probably tans naked. Don't think about that.

Too late. Thinking about it!

"Hey, you're actually fast," she says.

"Cheers." Can barely speak. Lungs screaming.

Walks to this fallen log. Sits. Stretches her legs out all casual like she's in a fucking Lululemon advert. I'm stood there like a spare prick at a wedding trying not to stare and dribble all over my chin.

Remember that PE teacher I had at thirteen? Miss Crawford. Wore these tight Adidas tracksuit bottoms that showed everything. Used to get a stiffy every lesson. This feels exactly like that except I'm twenty-one and should have better control. I'm an adult for fucks sake.

"So." She's looking at me weird. "You got a lady back in England?"

"Nah. Had one. Emma. Dumped me for a law student with better prospects and a trust fund...bastard."

"Her loss." Still looking at me with this intensity that's making me sweat more than the run did. "You seeing anyone here?"

Does shagging your mum last night count? "Been here one day mate."

"Fair point." Stands up. Walks over. Close. Really close. Can smell her sweat and coconut sunscreen. "I've been thinking about you since Dad showed me your photo three months ago."

Oh Christ. Oh fuck.

"What?"

"Kept going on about this Cambridge runner he was bringing over. Showed me your picture on his phone. Thought you looked really fit...and you are."

She's right in front of me now. Can see the little scar above her left eyebrow. Freckles across her nose. She's gorgeous and I'm fucked.

"Um."

"Very articulate for a Cambridge boy...cat got your tongue?" Smiling now. Proper American movie star smile. "I'm here all summer. You're here all summer. Dad's oblivious. Seems like a waste not to."

"A waste not to what?"

"This..."

Kisses me. Just goes for it. Tounge down my throat.

I'm thinking don't do this you absolute muppet, you shagged her mum twelve hours ago in her dad's study, this is mental, you're going to get caught and murdered, they'll find your body in a ditch somewhere in North Carolina and Emma will say I told you so at your funeral.

But I'm also kissing her back because I'm twenty-one and my cock doesn't understand consequences and she tastes like peach and her tongue's in my mouth and fuck it, we're doing this.

Her hand goes to my chest. Can feel how warm it is through my t-shirt. My cock's already responding. Going from interested to very interested to fucking hell mate calm down.

"Here?" I manage.

"Why not? No one uses this trail." Already pulling her t-shirt off. Sports bra underneath. Flat stomach. Tits that are smaller than her mum's but perfect and perky and I need to stop comparing them. But solid 8 out of 10.

Off comes the bra.

Well fuck me.

"Your turn Cambridge."

I strip my shirt. She's already pushing her shorts down, these pink knickers underneath. Kicks her trainers off. Stands there in just the underwear looking at me like I'm dinner.

"Come on then. Don't be shy."

Pull off my shorts. Boxers with the Union Jack on them, seemed funny when I packed but now just feels very British and awkward. Off they come too.

My cock springs up. Already hard as rock.

She looks down at it. Bites her lip. "Mmm not bad Cambridge."

Not bad? Cheers for the confidence boost.

"Lie back," I say, finding some initiative.

She does. Just lies back on the grass, legs slightly apart, looking up at me. She's like something out of a painting except with better tits and I really need to stop thinking and start doing.

Kneel between her thighs. Hook my fingers in her undies and pull them down slowly. She lifts her hips to help.

And there it is. Her cunt. Completely bare, already wet, pink and perfect.

When Emma first let me go down on her it was this massive deal. Took three months of dating. Was in her halls room at Christ's with her flatmate in the next room and she kept worrying about making noise. This is different. Katie's just lying there confident as anything, waiting.

Put my head down. First lick and she gasps a little.

Tastes sweet. Sweeter than Emma. Sweeter than Megan. Fuck I'm mentally comparing three women's cunts like I'm some kind of connoisseur. I'm going to hell. Definitely going to hell.

But if hell tastes like this I'll happily go.

Find her clit. She grabs my hair immediately. "Fuck yes there."

Start properly. Licking circles round it, then flicking directly over it. She's making these little noises that are going straight to my cock. Can feel it pressing against the grass, hard and needy.

"Don't stop," she breathes.

Wasn't planning to. Suck her clit gently into my mouth. Her thighs squeeze my head. Good squeeze though. Enthusiastic squeeze.

Slide two fingers inside her while I keep licking. She's tight. Fuck really tight. Grips my fingers like a vice and I'm thinking about how good that's going to feel around my cock and nearly come on the spot like some teenage virgin.

Control yourself James. Dad's voice in my head. Always at the worst moments.

Curl my fingers up in a come hither movement. Find that spot. She proper moans now, loud, not caring.

"Oh fuck oh fuck I'm going to--"

Her whole body goes tense. Thighs clamping my head so tight I actually can't breathe for a second. Don't care. Keep licking until she pushes me away, too sensitive.

Pull back. My face is covered in her. Can taste her on my lips.

"Jesus," she says, still breathing hard. "Where'd you learn that?"

"Trial and error mostly. Emma was very clear about what she didn't like."

She laughs. Sits up. Pushes me onto my back. "My turn Cambridge."

Straddles me in one smooth movement. Doesn't even hesitate. Positions herself over my cock.

"Wait," my brain manages. "Contraception?"

"Pill. You clean?"

"Yeah."

"Then shut the fuck up."

Sinks down onto me and oh Jesus oh fuck she's tight. So tight I have to bite my lip not to spunk immediately like some seventeen-year-old on his first go.

She doesn't move for a second. Just sits there, adjusting. I can feel every inch of her wrapped round me. Can see where we're joined. It's obscene and delicious and I don't want it to ever end.

My personal best.

Then she starts moving. Slow at first, rolling her hips. Then faster. Properly riding me now.

I'm watching her tits bounce. Watching her face. Watching where my cock disappears inside her. It's too much. All of it's too much.

My hands grab her hips. She leans down, kisses me. Can taste herself on my tongue. Starts moving faster, more desperate.

"Touch me," she says against my mouth. "Make me come again."

My finger finds her clit. Rub it while she rides me. Can feel her getting tighter, closer.

"That's it fuck that's it I'm--"

She collapses onto my chest but still moving her hips, grinding down.

The feeling of her pulsing round my cock does it. Grip her arse, thrust up hard three times, and spunk inside her. Proper deep. Can't help it.

We lie there breathing hard. She's still on top, my cock softening inside her. Can feel our combined mess starting to leak out.

"Well," she says eventually, climbing off. "Dad wasn't wrong about British endurance runners."

I laugh. Can't help it. "Your mum said something similar."

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Did I just say that out loud?

She's pulling her knickers back on, not looking at me. "Mum said what?"

Think fast you idiot. "Er, about British runners. When I arrived. Said you lot are tough or something."

She glances at me. Not sure if she believes it. Pulls her sports bra on. "Right."

We dress in silence.

"This is properly fucked," I say, pulling my boxers on.

"I know." She ties her hair back. "But you're not going to stop, are you?"

"Probably not."

"Good." Kisses me once more. Quick. "Let's head back before Dad organises a search party."

We run back in silence. My mind's racing. Shagged the wife last night. Daughter this morning. Probably not the best decision I've made but I'm morally corrupt and a bad, bad person.

Three months in America.

This is either going to be the best summer of my life or I'm going to end up murdered in the woods.

Probably both.