The Climb

A merciless workout at the gym did nothing to temper the rage bubbling inside him after a long week. What he really needed was an obedient (or breakable) cumrag for the afternoon, but he was unsure if he'd be able to put her back together when he was done.

He selected the next best thing in the form of a few hours in the climbing gym. His muscles were tired, but he needed exhaustion- and hoped that if the fury of cardio didn't take the edge off, then the precision and strategy of climbing would.

He sent the first few warm up climbs with little effort, barely paying attention to his movements. His mind was distracted, and he knew he needed a bigger challenge to focus it.

"We just installed a new wall," the owner called to him on his way back down. "We're trying a new course with a little something extra. I think you might like it, if you need a challenge," she said knowingly.

"I need it," he growled as he followed her toward the back of the gym. The new wall was behind a locked door, which made him smirk- who knew that climbing gyms worried about corporate espionage.

His first observation was that the wall was high. His mind took in the grip pattern, easily keeping up as the owner gave him the beta for the climb. "It looks pretty straightforward, but you'll find once you get started there are a few obstacles that keep things interesting," she said with a smirk.

He planned his route while he chalked his hands, rolling the tension from his shoulders before beginning. The flow came easily to him at first, his muscles following his mind's pattern as he flexed and shifted his weight with each move. He was about a third of the way up the wall when he paused, realizing that he had lost sight of the pale coloured grip he was climbing to.

He hugged his body to the wall to get a better angle so that his agile mind could recalculate his route. He felt the owner's eyes on his back as he strategized, but he wasn't ready to ask her for help yet. As he craned his neck, he felt his groin jut into a grip. If he wasn't so agitated the sensation wouldn't have registered, but instead he felt a ripple of pleasure burn through him.

Why was the hold... holding?

He loosened his grip to look down, and saw that what he thought was a hold was actually a hole- or, rather, a hand. A hand with long burgundy fingernails that held his hardening cock.

"You good?" the owner called.

"Very good," he replied. The hand gripped him through his shorts, stroking him to life through the thin fabric.

"Let me know when you need a hand," the owner called back smugly.

"Oh, I think I have enough hands so far," he replied as the floating hand freed his cock from his shorts. His arms started to ache from the static hold, but the firm stroking of his cock provided ample distraction.

He flexed his legs to angle himself closer to the hole, craving more friction. The hand responded, quickening its pace and flexing its grip to keep him guessing.

Just when he sank into the rhythm, it ended. The hand disappeared, replaced by a green hold. He would've thought that he'd imagined the entire thing if his cock wasn't touching the wall.

He took a deep breath, tucking himself back into his shorts and shaking the ache out of his limbs. He executed a series of moves that propelled him up the wall as he fled the phantom hand.

He had almost forgotten about the throbbing in his groin as he paused to calculate the momentum he needed to swing himself up to a blue grip. He built tension in his legs, flexing his right hand in preparation for the hold. Two deep breaths later he exploded from his position, arm outstretched in search of the grip.

He thought he heard a muffled cry when he landed, but it might have been his own as he started to fall. The blue hold wasn't in his hand; instead, he grasped something malleable that completely eroded his stability. He dug his fingers into the melting hold with all his strength until he found unexpected footing beneath him.

He hung awkwardly as he solved his position, keenly aware that his hand was slipping on the hold. He adjusted his stance to spread his legs, and was finally able to find a more comfortable grip with his left hand.

His right hand grip would have been quite comfortable in another circumstance, given that it was gripping a gorgeously soft breast. He relaxed his hand as his mind caught up. Bruises in the shape of his fingerprints were already forming in the soft skin, but the hard nipple told him that the woman behind the wall wasn't entirely perturbed.

He focused on lowering his heart rate after the near-miss, but a few flicks of the floating nipple while he watched his bruises bloom had the opposite effect. His cock stirred as he kneaded the flesh, apparently unsatisfied with the existing damage. He looked down to where his cock was stiffening in hopes of seeing a hole, but was disappointed.

His adrenaline was cresting, and he needed an outlet. He offered a few open handed slaps to the breast, soothing it with his mouth after. He bit the nipple for good measure, feeling it peak on his tongue as he held it between his teeth. He was vaguely aware of the gym owner below him, and wondered if she could see what he was doing.

Not that he cared.

Just as the floating hand had, the breast eventually disappeared and was replaced by the blue grip that he had been aiming for. He was both annoyed and intrigued as he made his final push for the peak, wondering what else the wall had in store.

His pace was more cautious after he almost fell. The last quarter of the climb was gruelling, both mentally and physically. He focused his mind on the plan of attack, and the counter attack should his desired grip belong to the woman behind the wall. His muscles were screaming from exertion, and perhaps also from the unexpectedly long static holds peppered throughout.

"The run only counts if you can hold at the peak for thirty seconds," the owner called.

"That's a stupid rule," he called back. Had he known that, he wouldn't have wasted so much time stopped throughout the course.

Okay, he would have. But still.

His hand grasped the final hold, and he let out a victorious growl.

"Thirty seconds and the course record is yours," the owner called.

He squared his posture, releasing tension where he could and focusing on breathing through the ache in his limbs. His core was screaming. He pressed himself into the wall to redistribute some pressure, and moaned in relief.

Or did he moan because his cock was warm?

Hot breath melted into his groin through another hole in the wall. In seconds his cock was free, disappearing into greedy red lips. His cock was quickly soaked as the talented mouth worked around his shaft. He felt a curious tongue flutter across the tip of his cock and swallowed a moan.

"Fifteen seconds!" the owner reminded him, as if he cared.

The tip of his cock teased a throat- so close, yet so far. He found himself thrusting into the wall as much as his screaming muscles would allow, each time the mouth hungrily accepting him while he craved the throat. He was so consumed by his pursuit that he didn't hear the owner tell him that his thirty seconds were up.

He oscillated between absorbing the wet warmth surrounding his cock and trying to take more. His cock was rimmed in red, soft lips giving way to the promise of a throat. Her tongue was relentless, the tension in her mouth unforgiving. He vaguely wondered whether he would remain attached to the wall if he let go.

He didn't let go until he filled the floating mouth with cum.

By the time his feet hit the ground his body and mind were floating.

"That's a new course record," the owner said slyly.

"I always finish what I start," he replied, tucking his soaked cock back into his shorts.

"I can see that. In that case, you should know that the course record holder wins a prize," she said. "Unlimited access to the new course for as long as you're number one. Just come to the desk and we will make sure it's in the system."

He followed her to the computer and politely stood in line while the staff logged in another client. He watched long burgundy nails fly across the keys, and was met with a red-lipped smile when it was his turn.

He wondered if he was the only one who noticed that her lipstick was smeared.