Gail steps out of the shower, all nude 'n steamy, droplets of water running down her body, sculpted by exercise, estrogen, and her own artistic beingness. She towels off, then wraps it around her hair, walking into her bedroom and sitting down on the exercise mat. Recently, she added something to her morning stretches. It's, uh, not for every day. But on a nice day like this, with her blood flowing, her thoughts clear, and a warm breeze coming thru the open window, it seems like just the right time... and, well, her body's already excited in the exact way she needs it to be. >#> She stretches her legs out, getting them at about a 30-degree angle, and points her toes. Once, twice, thrice, the lingering sleepy stiffness in her calves transmuting into warmth and energy. She lifts her hands over her head, streeeeeetching out, pushing out her belly, feeling the tension in her spine untwine. Then she leans forward, face down, arms over her head, stretching them towards her left leg, once, twice, thrice, and her right leg, once, twice, thrice. She can feel her heart beating faster - and her cock poking into her belly, fast-rushing blood flowing thru it. She leans forward, over her cock. She'll need to limber up more to, um... well, she's working towards her reward, and the excitement of that pushes her forward, helps her really feel the endorphins as she presses her head into the mat. One... two... three. She straightens up, twisting her waist back and forth, feeling the increased flexibility opening up. She puts her hands on her thighs, squeezing them. This isn't strictly part of the exercise, but gosh does she want to touch. She curls and uncurls her toes, letting the bright sparks of sexual energy zap thru her legs, back to her hips, up to her spine and lighting up her brain. Gosh. The second set of exercises is easier; she's got the momentum, she's got the energy, she can taste the desire, tongue sliding over her lips as she touches her toes, left three times, right three times. She presses her forehead into the mat and she almost squeaks from her other head, her very sensitive head, pressing into the small pocket of pudge around her stomach. She straightens up, twists left-right-left-right. She puts her hands on her knees. Is she there yet? She leans forward, lips hanging open, breathing deep, skin flushed from more than the internal heat of exercise. Her chest and belly fold in on each other, body curling around itself. She can feel her hot breath on the little tip that peeks out from her foreskin. Her tongue reaches out. She strains, and she straaaaaaaains, and... No, not yet. That's okay. She sits up, leaning back, hands behind her, head thrown back, breathing deep, lungs, muscles, blood filling with oxygen. Keep going. It's hard (and throbbing) but that's the point of this. The difficulty is part of the reward. A minute's rest, and she points her toes, one-two-three on the left, one-two-three on the right. She straightens, and reaches out, touching her toes, one-two-three left, one-two-three right. It feels more fluid, and-- ah! God, as she shifts it's like there's a liquid pool of sex shifting inside her, as her hips tense, as her balls sway. God damn. She leans forward, touches her foreheard to the mat, stretches forward once-twice-thrice. She straightens, twists, left-right-left-right. She points her toes, one-two-three, one-two-three. She touches her toes, one-two-three, one-two-three. She's not thinking of sex anymore, not sex-qua-sex, sex as something separate from exercise, separate from breathing. It's all sensations now, all the smooth, integrated workings of a body, a strong, warm system made to accomplish her goals. She leans forward, and her spine moves smoothly, her muscles ripple under her skin. She presses her forehead into the mat, and stretches forward, one, two, three. It feels smooth and warm and... "easy" isn't the right word; it's something more like "functioning perfectly". She straightens up, twists left-right-left-right. And she leans forward, and tries again. Hands on her knees, lips hanging open, hot breath pouring out, she can feel it on the tight-stretched foreskin, on the sensitive head beneath, shining droplets sliding out of it, pooling on the skin, then running down her shaft. She leans in, strains, straaaaaains... And she feels her tonguetip make contact, and the electric sensation down her spine almost makes her straighten back up. Almost, because oh god is the desire driving her on now. Her teeth press into her foreskin, pushing it back, revealing the soft purply-red flesh of her head. Her eyes are closed now, she's making her way around by feel, and it's so odd and amazing feeling it from both sides. Her lips press into her corona, her tongue sliding along her slit, noises are coming out of her nose, noises for her and only her. She sucks, oh god, this little moment of vacuum-seal driving a roaring wave of pleasure through her hips, crashing on her thighs and in her belly, little rivulets of divine sensation forming tide pools in her toes. She's still learning what she most likes his way; this time, her tongue slides over the curve of her head, pre drooling out against it, the perfect system asking for pleasure and giving it and asking for more. Her lips curl, sliding forward and back, tiny motions but enormous in their effect, the skin of her balls wrinkling. Her neck muscles are moving just a bit, a cycle forward and back at the edge of her capacity, at that wonderful edge where she can slide forward and back over her head, gosh her pre tastes so good, she's been eating a lot more fruit lately and it shows, forward and back, forward and back, lips, tongue, neck, along corona, glans, tip, pleasure and effort perfectly synchronized. She can feel it rising in her, god, her hips want to push forward, she wants to grab her own head, fuck herself hard, use herself for her own pleasure, this perfect machine that is hers and is her, lips sliding forward and back, forward and back, warm heat and stiffness and-- The first splash is a moment of surprise and then her throat muscles engage, her tongue lapping up her own cum, pleasure exploding out of her body, making the warm day part of her, and her orgasm part of the sunshine and breeze, lips sliding encouragingly over her corona, swallowing and swallowing, coming and coming... ...ahhhhhhhh. And her back uncurls, and she puts her hands behind her, head lolling back, a long drool of cum down her face, eyes looking, unfocused, at nothing. Her chest fills, and she breathes; she swallows, and oxygen rushes into her, and she lets out a long, slow sigh, endorphins, pleasure, filling every cell. After five or six minutes, she stands up, taking the towel off her head and cleaning off her dick and the mat. She tosses it in the laundry, and gives one more long stretch. Gosh. It looks like it's gonna be a good day.