Rich & Rare| A Filth Odyssey| Episode 2

Romy ran until her legs were jelly. They were beyond pins and needles and vibrated with each step as she started to cool down. It was well after sunrise now and the strip had become populated with people, much to her annoyance. 

Part of the fun of getting up early meant that she would be sharing the path with other committed individuals. Not the lazy ones who snoozed their alarms five times, or met up with their friends and walked the entire path sipping coffee. Talking.

No.

She liked the nuts. The ones who would be running in the pitch black with 3M reflective spandex. Their limbs long and sinewy, The surfers ignoring reality and shoving their bodies into wetsuits, ready to mingle with salty and bitterly cold Southern California waters. She liked the runners who ran without earbuds, who looked like all they ever did was run.

On that spectrum of athlete, she fell somewhere in the middle. Running was still new to her. For years she’d committed to practicing yoga in her apartment or going for hikes. These days the energy she felt in her legs and thighs kept bubbling up in spite of how many inclines she traversed or sun salutations she performed. Romy needed more. On New Year’s Day, she bought her first pair of running shoes since the 6th grade.

The rest, she figured, would have to come later. The rest being actual activewear. For now, she ran in a slinky lycra bra top without padding. She had packed a pair of dolphin shorts too. They were french terry and a soft dusty blue. Shorts that probably looked like they were from the 6th grade. Alas, Romy could never part with them. It had taken her two and half years to shake off the stress weight she’d gained from a shitty job and the shorts were the only thing which had escaped the purge of her wardrobe. She was proud of getting back in shape, getting her head back on her shoulders and well, dammit, the shorts fit!

So what if they were a little short?

And thin.

And short

And a little loose around the ass. 

Shit, she thought as she walked the path, fielding off stares left and right from some of the locals eyeing down her unique runner’s attire.

It was one thing to run before sunrise in a skimpy outfit, protected by the darkness, and it was quite another when the sun came out. It's brightness bringing along with it a borage of bored, wealthy, judgmental middle-aged wives. And their husbands. They looked over their shoulder as Romy would pass them on their left. The wives oblivious and the husbands leering unabashedly.



“Aren’t you married?” she called out to one in a grey hoodie and hideous black Oakleys. His wife, snapped to attention, looked behind her to locate the source of the accusation. Once she clocked her outfit, she prepared her rebuttal.

“Maybe you should have some self-respect!” The blonde woman snapped behind oversized Michael Kors frames.

“Lick my ass, Karen.” Romy laughed, running past them. Within seconds, she heard the couple deteriorate into an abysmal argument as they ate her dust.

“I just don’t know what’s gotten into you, Frank! You’ve been off since you got back from the trip!”

“Katie, Katie! Look, I’m sorry, I slipped! Katie, listen to me!” he pleaded.

***

Romy rounded the corner and started up the incline to Rex’s place. Sheesh, Rex’s place. A big ol’ architectural modern thing of black and grey concrete, plate glass, recessed lighting, stainless steel fixtures, landscaping which featured rosemary, lavender and stones, a keypad entry, a futuristic mailbox, and a large kitchen with a view to the ocean and yes, the runner’s path. She took the smooth concrete steps two at a time, and worked to catch her breath as she reached the door. She paused, looking over her shoulder at the water, grey and cool, with yellow melting over the horizon stinging the waves with sunlight.

Her sweaty fingertips punched in the code and she twisted the deadbolt, stepping inside.



“That you, green bean?” Rex called from the kitchen.

“No, it’s the mailman.”

“Oh good, then it must be time for my scheduled USPS Pickup Makeout Session.”

The smell of fresh coffee, toasted bread and something sweet hung in the air. Rex had already eaten and was sat at the end of the long dining room table, typing away at his laptop, peering over his glasses. Once inside, the air conditioning had dissolved most of the sweat from Romy’s body. Her nipples stood out like little beats at the center of her top. Rex smiled.

“I like the changes to the uniform.” he mused, clacking away at the keyboard. She stood near the fridge, bracing one hand against the door and taking a healthy refreshing gulp of cold water. She pulled back from the bottle and gasped, still catching her breath.

“That good of a run, huh?” he chuckled, still click-clacking.

Romy shifted out of her warm sneakers and let her feet adjust to the cool tile underneath her.

“Worth waking up that extra hour earlier for.” she paused. “Upset a few characters though.”

“Oh no, what happened this time.” Rex folded the computer shut and slid it to the side, leaning back into his chair.

“I told a Karen to lick my asshole.” Romy laughed.

“Was her name actually Karen?”

The kitchen was designed to face the water, and a few times they’d woken up early together to watch the sunrise. From the outside looking in, you could pretty much see straight through from the street and see everything. Everything from the frosted glass dining table, past the breakfast bar, to the hallway. You could even make out some of the photographs mounted on the wall.

Black and white photographs of roses on bare skin, a little birthday gift from Romy to Rex just a few months ago. He looked Romy up and down, waiting for an answer. She’d worn the low cut pink athletic socks, which were his favorite. She was fidgeting where she stood, layering one foot on the other. His lips curled into a hungry smile and he beckoned her forward with his fingers. She grabbed the plastic cap to the water bottle and crossed the room to meet him.

“No, but it started with a ‘K’. Kathy, Kaitlyn, some shit.”

She sipped more water, oblivious to Rex’s gaze as he pulled her forward. His size dwarfed her small frame. Standing, they were at least a foot and a half apart in stature. Sitting, his face was nearly at her neck. With two arms around her waist he leaned forward, nuzzling her damp torso with his face as Romy related the encounter between the couple. She played with his hair, her fingers were cool from holding the water and sent soothing tingles across his scalp. Rex released a deep contended sigh.

“What a lecherous turd.” He looked up. “They deserve one another.”

“Do you know them?”

“Jesus, probably.” Rex pulled back for a moment to remove his glasses, then returned to nuzzling her belly. Romy, still enjoying the buzz from her runner’s high, felt her temperature ticking up. She relished in feeling sandwiched between Rex’s strong arms and his soft kisses on her sticky skin.

He ran his nose from side to side across her hips, popping a finger into her waistband. He played with the hem of her worn down shorts, rubbing the soft french terry. The fabric was thin between his fingers. He looked up, peering into her eyes.

“I like these shorts.”

“Thank you.” she started to take another sip when Rex stole the bottle from her, downing the latter half and tossing it into the recycling bin across the room without looking.

“Nice shot,” Romy smiled, looking over her shoulder.

“Thanks,” mumbled Rex, as he tugged at the elastic waistband persistently.

“Wait, lemme shower.” Romy started to wiggle from his grasp, but he gripped her waist firmly in his hands, holding her in place. “Come on, I’m all gross from the run. I probably stink.” she protested. Rex looked down at her navel and pulled the waistband down, craning his neck, he took a long dramatic deep breath. When he exhaled, he looked up at her with dark dilated pupils.

“You smell just fine to me.”

Romy hadn’t noticed how her breath had shifted from normal to slightly labored. She felt warmth growing between her legs and as she felt the first emergence of wetness in her panties, she allowed Rex to slide his hands down her waist, peeling the shorts off until they slid past her knees and fell to the floor. She shivered, not from the AC, but at the dual excitement and fear of being caught by pedestrian onlookers. Though Rex’s house was situated at the sleepier end of the block, with most of his neighbors busy with travel or work, occasionally a lost jogger or dog walker would show up. Nevertheless, she watched the ocean roll back and forth as he cupped her by the ass, lifting her onto the table.

Her shoulder blades stuck to the glass as Rex hovered over her, removing her panties with care. Once off, he balled them into his fist and brought them to his face, taking in another deep inhale of her scent with both eyes shut. He took another hungry look at her, stuffing them into his pants pocket.

The last thing Romy saw before succumbing and releasing her posture was Rex’s calm and focused face as he pressed her knees wide apart, closing the distance between his face and her pussy. She let her eyes close, her ankles resting on his hard shoulders.