The weekend arrived at last, and Janet was glad, it would give them time to relax even more together, away from the stress and the tensions of work and every day life. The week following Valentines’ had been exciting enough. For two days they had not made love to each other, no penetration, no “sex” as such. Instead they had missed a day altogether, while they slept and recovered from the excesses. She had rung his work, saying he had come down with a bug of some sort, and had not been able to sleep all night. They said it was fine, and hoped he would be well enough to come back to work as soon as he was better. She had laughed out loud when she came off the phone. My, if only they knew!
Waking him with tea and a light snack in the late afternoon, they had chatted, the embarrassed silence broken by idle chit-chat, and then snuggled up together under the duvet, drifting in and out of sleep. They touched, they stroked, they even kissed, almost everything led to the point of wanting, but they both held back, savouring the memories of the night before. Showering together, they attempted nothing sexual, just a bonding and a closeness of themselves, as if reading each other’s minds.
Rising before him, as was usual on a Saturday, she slipped downstairs, cooking him a breakfast, nibbling on some toast herself, before sauntering into the bedroom with a tray full of aroma. She set it on the bedside table, and woke him with a flourish of the curtains, the strong sunlight cascading into the room. As he blinked into waking, her shape was silhouetted beautifully in the window, the sunlight pouring through the thin cheesecloth dress, defining the shape of her legs, all the way to her crutch. She turned to face him, greeting him with a laugh and a call of “Come on, sleepyhead!” Yawning, he sat up, and saw the tray. Reaching over, he picked the plate up, and began forking the scrambled eggs down hungrily. She wandered across, and poured a tea for them both. Sitting on the bed, she discussed the weekend with him, as he ate his breakfast.
When he had eaten, she reached across his body, his large hands grasping her waist, rustling the skirt of the dress up to her waist. She wore nothing under this; it was hers, and his, favourite outfit for long summer days. She kissed him, headily enjoyed the plying of his fingers across her sex, the tips running along each lip, before sliding across and away to reach her waist on each side. Kneeling, she pulled the cover away from him, knowing how hard he would be first thing in the mornings. Her fingers clamped around him, the heat burning into her hand. Deftly, she slid one knee over him, so that she straddled him. His hands still held her waist, his eyes looking into hers.
Holding his cock, she lowered herself to his heat, until she sensed they were only a fraction apart. With a rocking of her hips, she slid his bell-end along her slit, the outer lips parting under the gentle pressure, and her moistness coating him. She could stand the torment no more, and he was gripping her tighter and tighter, letting her know the effect she was having on him, so she sat down hard, her arse planting onto the tops of his thighs. God, he felt so good, so hard inside her. She placed her hands onto his, and, releasing the dress from his hold, lifted it up, slowly, deliberately, till it cleared her head, and she threw it towards the window. The material floated across the sunlit air, shadows flitting across them till it came to rest half on, half off the chair there. Throwing her head back, she placed her hands on his knees, arching her back and presenting her whole naked body to his gaze. She knew what he would be doing, as his hips lifted and fell slightly, urging only the slightest movement inside her.
His eyes would drop to her clean shaven mound, and she pictured the sight he would have in his mind, his smooth hairless cock cleaving her mound in two, and disappearing into her, swallowed whole by her hole. They had discussed the shaving previously, he had been surprised at her wanting him totally clean, but then did agree that he had always wanted to see her denuded, and it was only fair. She enjoyed the luxurious feel of sliding up and down his shaft, well lubricated from her own moistness. Suddenly, all too soon, she could sense the orgasm coming, the pounding in her ears as she carried on with her relentless pace.
It was as if by telepathy, but they could each sense when the other was on the point of scaling that electric peak. He said he always got a “tingling” on the head of his cock, and she always seemed to feel a certain movement in him, only minute, but detectable to her muscles within. She always tried to hold herself back from her own coming, so they could pulse together. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. This time was perfect. As she gasped for air, and his hands cupped her wholesome breasts, she leant forward to let him take her weight on his arms. She whimpered and moaned as her cunt clenched and spasmed, gripping the shaft of his cock deep within her, and then that movement of his. Oh God, she felt it, and she came on him, as his cock gave up the fruits of his loins, his come melting into the pools of her juices around him. She stayed on top of him, she didn’t move away. She squeezed and tightened herself inside, milking him of every drop opening her eyes to look at his face, and see his feelings, plain to see.
They were both bathed in the sunlight from the window, and she loved the warmth of it on her skin, it gave her a sense of well being. She stayed atop of him, feeling him soften inside her, and she wriggled her arse around on him to trap him inside. His cock was held, and couldn’t escape from her. She rubbed one hand up and down his chest, supporting her weight on the other, his own large hands roaming across her belly, her hips and her waist. He groaned as she teased him, and he suddenly sat up.
Pushing himself onto his elbows, his face rose to meet hers, lowered as it was. They kissed, and their tongues danced around, their eyes locked onto each other’s. As he took his weight on one arm, his free hand roamed her back and her shoulders, pressing, squeezing, till he suddenly grabbed one cheek of her arse, stopping her moving. She had felt him hardening up inside her, slowly, and she marvelled at his recovery rate. True, he did not always come when they were doing this, twice in a row, but he was always able to be hard for her, and let her pleasure herself on his shaft. He sat upright, forcing her backwards, her legs aching to be released, she was now trapped on his legs, his large hands embracing her, almost squeezing the air from her as he held her close to him.
His hands found their way onto her legs, and bending his knees, he forced her legs from under her, straightening them behind him. She was pleased at the release; it gave her legs a rest from the aching tension they had been under. But she was now at his mercy. He swivelled his legs off the side of the bed, taking her with him, still holding him. Still stroking her back and her sides, he began nibbling on her neck, licking and kissing his way round to that little soft spot at the back of her ears, knowing that she loved this. She threw her head back, eyes closed, murmuring as his lips and tongue teased the soft skin to peaks of excitement. The thrills shivered down inside her, to the very pit of her belly, making her moist once more at his deft touches. She threw her arms around his neck to make sure she didn’t lean too far and fall.
Suddenly, he stood, catching her unawares. Though he still had his arms around her and she hers around his neck, the full impact of her weight concentrated, just momentarily, on their crutches. She gasped as her lips were crushed against the base of his cock, still hard and inside her. His hands dropped to cup the smooth cheeks of her arse, and he lifted her slightly, and she caught her breath. When she had regained her senses, she looked him in the eye, and started to squeeze his shaft with rippling tidal pulsing of her inner muscles. He laughed, the chuckle rising in his throat, and he swiftly stepped to the wall, slamming her back against the sun-warmed paper.
His weight pinned her there, still with his shaft inside her. She wriggled, trying to break free and gain some purchase, but he held her well. Moans escaped her, as he began to flex his knees, his cock sliding slightly in and out of her. She dropped her hands to hold and caress him, and suddenly, he was pinning her back against the wall, his fingers wrapped in hers, holding her hands tight. He stretched his arms up, above her head, taking hers with him. She let out a yell, of pain and surprise, as suddenly he held all her weight there in his hands, hanging her against the wall. The muscles and sinews in her arms screamed out as her full body hung, like a painting, stark against the patterned paper.
“God John, let me down, this will hurt”.
She began to writhe and wriggle as he eased the pressure of his body from hers, still holding her up. And then he laughed. He began to rise up and down, his knees bending, his cock pumping in and out of her. Despite the sharp reminder of her agony in her arms, her cunt began to melt, and she knew he was making her enjoy this, despite how often she asked him to take the weight from her arms. Her legs coiled around him, giving her at least some relief as she took a fraction of her weight onto them and onto his back. This just made him hump her harder, his face reddening as the heat of the moment boiled up into him. She shivered as she felt herself opening wider and wider, and then the dousing of the flames in her groin as she came, and yet still he drove into her.
When at last she opened her eyes, the last of the waves pouring from her and ebbing to a feeling of wellbeing, he stopped. He flexed himself from her, sliding his cock up against her belly, leaving a small trail of her own juices glistening on her skin, as he lowered her till her feet touched the floor. He still held her arms above her head, but slackened from the strain of her body weight. He kissed her hungrily, and she felt the heat of him burning into her skin between them.
Releasing her hands, he rubbed her shoulders and forearms, easing the tightness and tension for her with his kindness. She held him in her arms, rubbing herself against his body, wanting to feel him come inside her. He pulled away from her, smiling, and strode from the room. She heard the shower begin to drum against the base of the bath, and stepped from the bedroom. She stood for a while, watching him shower, cleaning himself of his sleep and sweat. She stood there quite a while, even when he saw her, and carried on showering. She just loved the look of his body, the energy that could be unleashed from him.
When he had finished, he stepped from the sparkling water and grabbed a towel to dry himself. She smiled at him, and, stroking his chest as she passed, stepped into the shower herself. She closed her eyes, and let the water run over her breasts, the drumming of the jets hardening her nipples yet easing away the ache she felt. The heat of the water blended into her skin, soothing, calming, and relaxing her. She rinsed her skin, the jets of water washing away any last tensions and feeling of sleepiness from her body, laying it fresh and open to a whole new day.
Absent-mindedly, she washed herself, sliding a finger into herself as she cleansed her crutch, the water rippling over her open sex making her smile and daydream of love in a waterfall. Her mind snapped into waking, flicking on, and she knew. She knew, she opened her eyes, and saw John standing in the doorway, watching her, and she blushed. His cock, proud and erect, stood before him; he just stood there watching her. She withdrew her hand from her pussy, and turned off the water. Stepping onto the tiled floor, she caught the fresh towel he threw at her, and, with his towel draped around his shoulders he strode back to the bedroom.
II
By the time she reached the bedroom, he was dressed, just buttoning up his denim shirt, as she hugged the towel under her arms. Having cleared up the few pots and cups from the room, he reached across to kiss her, and said he was off to fetch a paper. He didn’t like having one delivered, preferring instead to walk down to the local shop and buy one just when he fancied one. He enjoyed the walk, especially on a morning like this and the idle banter in the shop with the owner. Drying her hair, he went down the stairs to the kitchen with the tray.
His call of “See you later” reached her ears just before the sound of the front door closing. His footsteps faded down the driveway and onto the pavement.
Sitting idly, she wondered what to wear, and what they would be doing today. Days, when alone at home, she wore nothing at all, but never told John that! The detached house was perfect for her freedom, and when she knew the neighbours were out, she sometimes ventured into the garden to sunbathe naked. She laughed out loud and blushed with embarrassment at the time a decorator had been next door, not knowing, and not seeing him down the side of their neighbour’s house, painting the guttering. She had strolled out to lie on a towel on the lawn, only becoming aware of him when his ladder had rattled!
There she was, naked as the day she was born, legs splayed apart, lying on her belly. He must have been able to see the wispy pubic hairs at the point of her mound. She had buried her head on her arms almost in shame, drawing her legs tight together, carrying on sunbathing till she heard the echo of his ladder disappearing round to the front of the house. She had run indoors then, laughing and almost crying, shaking like a leaf at her audacity and the thought of the poor soul unable to believe his eyes! After that, she had always taken more care when going into the garden!
Still smiling from that memory, Janet stood in front of the mirror and studied herself. She never really exercised, but managed to keep fairly fit. Although she only worked three days a week, she tried doing simple things, like taking the lift to the third floor instead of using the lift like the others. She was pleased that she could get to that floor before the lift, and without being breathless any more.
She didn’t fancy going shopping in town, it would be packed today, they could always go in the week anyway, and the supermarket could also wait for a lighter day. Janet picked out a long black wrap-around skirt, and a silk blouse, laying them on the bed. Idly she pulled a pair of hold-ups from the drawer, and sitting on the edge of the bed began to put them on. She stood again, in front of the mirror, and marvelled at the clean-ness of her sex, as it pouted, bare and proud.
As she tugged the stockings up, she felt the smoothness of her thighs at the top of the rubber seam of the material. She spotted a gathering of the stocking at her ankle, and bent to smooth it. Her breasts dangled low, as she wrapped her hands around the offending ankle and she began to smooth the material upward with a smooth firm stroke. Catching sight of herself there, in the mirror, and paused to look at her reflection.
Her bum kissed the air, the smooth skin shining in the sunlight. She carried on watching herself as she smoothed all the way to the top of her leg. It was weird, almost like a sense of voyeurism. Her fingers slipped under the elastic and pulled it straight and snug against her warm skin. She loved the kissing grip of the hold ups and the way they allowed her a wild sense of freedom and daring without the suspenders. She loved to wear proper stockings too, but these gave her the freedom of choice, especially when a belt would show and spoil the effect.
Reaching down to the other ankle, she repeated the same process, but all the while watching the person in the mirror. Again, she felt the creamy smooth skin at the top of her legs, and then the heat of her sex as her fingers neared it. But she didn’t stop there. She parted her legs slightly, so very slightly, just enough to let her fingers slide across her crack, till she felt the palm of her hand on her sex. Suddenly it was as if she was watching someone else touching themselves, or someone else touching her.
The slim feminine fingers glided backwards and forwards, till her index finger was anointed with juices. Still bent over, she placed her free hand on the floor to balance and support herself, as she began masturbating herself. This was not the usual Janet; this was a new released and freed self. Her fingers gingerly parted the sweet pot of desire, and she slowly slipped the tip of the finger in. She could feel all the ridges, bumps, and smoothness of her sex inside. The invasive finger felt strange, and not her, yet she knew she was here by herself, slipping her own self in and out of her own sex. She bit her lip, and slid another finger inside, then another, till the knuckles of the three fingers were stretching her and nudging her lips wider and wider as they slid deeper and deeper. Suddenly, she was a teenager, exploring her body, finding her sexual newness, and the feelings of want.
Her mind wandered back to her early days when she had discovered sex, and her friend Alison had come most weekends for a year or so, sleeping over. They had never actually been lesbians as such, just two close friends discovering the joys of sex and exploration together. It had seemed a natural thing to do, and then when Alison moved and the weekends stopped, they hadn’t spoken of it to anyone else, assuming that all girls were doing it. Janet had carried on touching herself, still finding what she liked, but even that had stopped after a while. She remembered their two nubile 15-year old bodies, naked, sweating in the heat of summer nights as they teased and played with each other.
At the height of their teasing, they would see how many fingers they could slide into each other’s quim. Alison had had a phenomenal capacity for slacking her vaginal muscles, till Janet’s wrist had slid inside her, forcing Alison to flush with heat, and come, the force pushing the hand out.
That was when she had first discovered her love of receiving oral sex, Alison’s tongue parting her lips and teasing her clit, driving her wild with passion. She had had a sense of wild pure passion in her, and the things she did to Janet, just with her mouth, would send her reeling off into a fantastic world of bursting electric inside her whole body. Her legs clamped together, holding the hand there in her thighs, trapping it, and making her feel the tightness that John must feel when he first entered her, and the tightness she must have had when she was with Alison. She moaned, the friction of her finger proving it’s worth as it drove her along the path to release.
Alison had even tied her down on more than one occasion, as she teased and tortured her with her fingers and her mouth. Janet’s finger still slid in and out, and she rocked on her heels as the memories flooded back, filling her groin with pressure, and the need to come. She dropped onto her knees, her hand splayed in front of her, her head bowed, and her finger still running in and out, in and out. She glanced in the mirror again, watching with excitement as her breasts swayed with the motion of her finger, slipping and sliding.
Watching herself still, imagining the hand at her, the finger inside her was Alison, and she groaned as the first peak of power hit her belly. She whispered Alison’s name, and suddenly she was there, she was panting, her head dropping to the floor, her fingers a mere blur of action as she carried on rubbing and penetrating herself, her labia splayed wide open and prey to the best of her fingered attentions.
When the full flood of the orgasm hit her, she threw her head back and called out, she was lost in another world, oh so long ago, and she came powerfully, her hand trapped in her pussy as she clenched in unison with the orgasm. Her breathing slowed, and relaxed, and she squatted back onto her haunches, looking in the mirror at the flush across her bosom and on her cheeks. God, what on earth was she doing, turning into a sex maniac! Seemingly so! Quiet, demure Janet, never one for taking risks or chances, and yet here she was, after years of never really thinking about it, touching herself and pushing herself to orgasm on her own, with just her wild imagination as a partner. Twice in one week! And yet she didn’t really feel too guilty, the warmth in her belly chasing that feeling away.
Quivers of delight still tingled at her lips of her sex, and she stood, guiltily, turning her back on the mirror until she had donned the skirt and the blouse, smoothing the heavy cotton of the skirt across her thighs and bum. She shook her head, ridding herself of the thoughts she had just had, but still feeling the warmth of satisfaction in her cuddling her emotions and desires.
Heavens, it must have been years since she had done anything like that. True, she had done it with John on some occasions when the mood was right, but never alone, and never evoking such feelings within her. Apart from the day she had totally depilated that area, which, looking back, had really been a turning point for her.
Stepping into the bathroom, she brushed her teeth, and combed her hair, so that when John eventually came down the driveway she was already at the bottom of the stairs. She had liberally sprayed herself with his favourite scent, knowing that he would smell it and love it. He kissed her as he passed her in the hall, combing her hair, and complemented her on her looks. In the mirror, her radiant face seemed to bloom with the guilt of the secret she held, but she smiled back at him. He tasted of chocolate, having sneaked a Mars Bar on the way home no doubt!
Laughing, she teased him, saying he should cut out the chocolate or he would soon have a spare tyre to carry! He playfully slapped her arse as he walked into the kitchen, with her following behind him. It was just a playful swipe, a show of affection, but it suddenly sprang memories and pictures of the other night into her mind. Wistfully, she ran her fingers along the edge of the wooden table as she walked through the kitchen to the back door.
III
Pouring coffee, he sat at the table, reading his paper, chuckling at silly stories and the headlines while they decided what to do for the day. She watched the grass in the garden greening up under the summer sun, warmth pervading the air, yet with a light breeze to roll away any build up of mugginess.
“Why don’t we just head out for the day and take a picnic John” she asked.
He agreed, and so she began raiding the fridge and packing away all goodies and nibbles into a small hamper. He fetched two bottles of wine, and their glasses wrapped in napkins.
She laughed at him, and said “Why two, you’re driving!”
He shrugged his shoulders in response, but the two bottles went in anyway. He hadn’t seen her slip in the white cheesecloth dress inside the hamper; she had a feeling she might need a change of clothes.
Driving them out into the lunchtime traffic, she headed for the countryside, the top down on the car, the warm summer breeze playing through her hair, as they laughed and chatted. Every time she changed gear, the split on her skirt slid further apart, revealing her knees at first, then eventually the stocking tops.
His eyes had wandered, watching, darting to the sight at the side of him, till he had looked at her, and placed his hand on her knee, stroking gently, each move of his hand rising further and further, till he had found the tops of the stockings beneath his finger tips.
Teasingly, Janet had clamped her legs together then, halting his progress. When eventually she had relented, and let him tentatively explore that last inch or so, the look on his face when he encountered her nakedness there made her smile. She could still surprise him, even after all these years! His fingertip had dipped into her, where she was already moist, and then rolled and tapped away at her clit, making her concentrate harder on the driving as he began to drive her wild with lust.
Janet begged him to stop, and he did for a while, but it simply left an ache inside her. So that when he did begin again, she parted her legs further to gain him better access. On a straight stretch of road she spotted a lay-by, and she pulled in as his eyes bored into hers, kissing her very soul, and she rooted onto his finger. Cars flew past, but with her eyes closed, she didn’t care, grinding her hips down onto his finger till she came.
Her eyes flew open, and the sunlight blinded her as she came, fresh air on her face, her legs wide open, and the split in her skirt baring her all to the summer. Putting the car into gear, she pulled out, and carried on driving, not bothering to cover herself back up, the feel of fresh air on her pussy easing the heat and ache she felt there. Wanting him, wanting him inside her, the feel, the need, the pressure, simply made her wish to get anywhere quicker.
Free of all expectations and plans, Janet hadn’t exactly set the day out to be like this, but she knew a spot where they could go, secluded enough for whatever they might fancy. Eventually they arrived at a wooded area, and she pulled the car in from the road, tyres scrunching the gravel at the roadside, and then whispering into an opening on a carpet of grass and fallen twigs. She pulled up, secretly happy inside that it would not be seen should any one be passing.
They were well off the beaten track anyway, and judging by the lack of any sign of tracks, no one came here. Opening her door quickly, she grabbed the blanket from the back seat as he swung the hamper out, and they walked into the woods. The soil was sandy and springy beneath their feet, and they eventually came to a clearing, having fought their way between branches and undergrowth. A fallen log lay at one side, and a glade of fresh grass, bathed in sunlight provided the perfect setting.
As he set the hamper down on top of the folded blanket, she stroked his back, and as he stood, kissed him, wrapping her self into his body. The noise and buzz of life in the wood surrounded them, and in the distance a tractor droned along in a field somewhere. Rubbing herself on his jean clad leg; Janet began to build up the tension and ache for release of feelings he had driven inside her in the car with his attentions. Unashamedly, she pulled the skirt apart, and rubbed her sex onto him, hard, making her breathing ragged. Light sparkled in her eyes as her nipples rubbed through the dark silk of her blouse and then his hand cupped one, the touch on her nipple making her catch a gasp.
He saw the look in her eyes and on her face, and began to lower her to the ground. She resisted, and made him lay the blanket on the soft ground. Where they lay was near to the base of the tress, hardly any grass grew there, just the sandy soil and remnants of leaves. He lowered her gently to the pliant earth, covering her face and neck with kisses, as his hands explored and opened the skirt fully up to her waist.
The feel of the daytime air on her flesh made her wanton, and, as he lay on her, unbuttoning the blouse, his lips followed his fingers, till he suckled on her breasts. Nipples ached, burnt, her eyes closed, and she lay back, willing to let him take her, to have her, here in the woods. Birds flew overhead, small sounds emanated from the undergrowth, but nothing distracted her from his loving. Gently, he slid the blouse from her, and she unbuttoned his shirt, till naked flesh met naked flesh. Despite the summer heat, their skin cooled one another, and as she felt him undo her skirt and lay it flat, she felt free and released of everything, lying naked there, in her stockings, in the woods.
Touring tongue licked every inch of her neck, and then her bosom, licking, tickling, and darting around the deep brown aureole before flicking the nipples. Standing hard, and aching for touch, she rolled from side to side to present herself to his willing mouth.
As it laced around her smooth belly, dipping into her belly button, his hands stroked along the outside of her thighs, grasping the skin through the thin nylons, holding her apart as he finally reached her honeypot. Stroking the short hairs on the back of his neck, she let herself go, abandoned to this pleasure, his lips sucking on hers, running down each side of her sex. She felt his tongue then darting and diving, almost into her yet not quite. Oh, the joy and the burning, she dug her fingers into his neck, forcing him inside her, his tongue lapping at the walls and soft spots there.
Free now of his hands, she raised her knees, opening herself even more to him, squealing and pouting as his tongue dabbled around her ring before racing up to rub around her clit again. Disappointment poured through her initially as his tongue left her, rolling slowly up to her belly, onto her breasts, her neck.
Just as she was about to kiss him, the aroma of her love box on his face, the tip of his cock nudged at her sex. While she had been busy pushing his head down onto her, forcing her legs apart, he had undone his jeans, freeing himself, ready for her. Before he could respond, she drove her body down and up, taking him deep inside her, rolling him into her body in one fell swoop. He filled her to bursting; all the teasing in the car had driven her to this point of need.
Janet sighed as he began to drive into her, with smooth sweet strokes, each one from the very tip of her labia to the depths of her cunt, powered, measured strokes, no hurrying. Each plunge of his tool into her made her whimper, and claw his back, and want him more and more. Her heels dug into his back as he gave her less than she wanted, he would not speed up to finish her off. He was pacing himself, he knew now this mood she was in, and that she would wish for more and more later.
Each firm deep stroke of him into her seemed to bury her into the warm welcoming soil through the blanket, until she felt held and wrapped in a mould. Her skin was alive with the sensations of butterflies landing on her and her eyes sparkled and shone as she felt the long-lasting pleasures of him inside her.
She rolled him onto his back, and slipped his cock from inside her. She surprised him, rather than squatting down onto him, she grabbed his shaft tightly in one hand. Pulling down hard on the skin, she exposed him to the air, before enveloping him with her mouth. Round and round, her tongue traced the ridge of his head, the glans puckering up, and her tongue dipping inside him, even there.
He groaned, he bucked, he writhed his hips, yet she would not release her hold, till she saw that look on his face, the pleading for the torment to stop, before he came. Swiftly, she straddled him, as he thought she would do initially. And splaying her lips with one hand, holding his shaft with the other, she rubbed his head along her slit.
Backwards and forwards she went, till they were both on the very edge of torment’s release. And she swallowed him, deep inside, her walls wrapping him, the rippling of her inside finally bringing on her orgasm, and then his.
He came, her hand still wrapping tightly around the base of his shaft, feeling his come pulsing up his shaft, the contractions as each drop of seed plied its’ way along his shaft till it spurted inside her.
She released her hold on him, but stayed straddled on top, grinding her hips, playing her clit against him. As he had come, she had been rubbing herself against her own knuckles, the pleasure almost driving her insane. And now she finished herself off against his body, his softness inside her, his juices mingled with hers.
IV
Panting for breath, they stayed like that till the sun began to burn on her shoulders. Standing above him, she shamelessly stepped up and onto his face, rubbing her cunt on his chin, cupping his head in her hands, making him feel, smell their love. Nervously, his tongue dipped into her, and he tasted the salty tang of his own, and the sweetness of her juices. She gasped, she wriggled, but suddenly his hands held her, firmly by her thighs, his fingers reaching like tendrils towards her arse, gripping her tightly and holding her there. His tongue began to carry on where his cock had left off. Most of their juices had seeped out earlier as she sat on him, but now his tongue touched and tasted only her, and the ebbing tide of her orgasm rolled back into flood once more, as he looked up into the branches, his dipping and licking pounding the blood in her ears..
“Yes, yes, yes” she hissed, through clenched teeth, forcing down onto him, his hands not now needing to hold her so fast. She wailed as she came, startling a bunch of small birds from the trees, and stopping a small rabbit in its’ tracks. It glanced at the couple, then hopped into oblivion through the undergrowth. She sobbed as she came on his mouth, spreading her legs apart, flattening her sex onto him, feeling his lips on hers, his tongue touching that last-needed spot and she was away. Sex was always good between them, but just some times when they made love unexpectedly like this it was so charged, almost illicit. She rolled forward, freeing his head, crouching on all fours, panting for breath as he had been in the bedroom earlier. She thought about telling him, but maybe later. Feeling him slide from beneath her, she gathered her senses, and made to get up.
“Don’t move”. His words puzzled her, and she turned her head to look at him. As she did, she felt a stinging pain across the taut cheeks of her bum. He was holding a sapling, and his cock was hard. He had kicked off his jeans, and stood naked behind her, the weapon in his hand almost thrilling her as much as the one at his groin. Swish. The searing pain returned, and she flinched once more.
“I said don’t move, you turned your head. Now you must take your punishment. I will teach you to act like a slut, rubbing yourself on my face like that. It is six of the best for you my girl”
Thrills of terror cascaded through the pit of her stomach as she resumed her original position, and each of the following six strokes poured pain and heat across her arse, the sun on her back and the fresh sounds of the country in her ears. After the last stroke, she spread her arms and legs a little to ease the ache in them and feel the warmth on her body spread to her groin. Curious little stabs of pleasure darted in and out of her, and she felt the lips to her sex open up as she moved.
“I didn’t say move” he said, and she heard the sapling being dropped to the ground. His open hand smacked into her fleshy sex, stinging and hurting her. Twice more he did this, but no harder, as she stayed stock-still. “That’s better, you can stand now”, and she swiftly stood, still facing away from him, enjoying the sensations, but not wanting too much. His hands at her side, he marched her to the trees, facing her up against a large oak. He pressed her onto the tree, and spread her legs. Close behind her, she felt his hardness, and his shortness of breath. God, he was enjoying this, as much as she was.
The roughness of the bark on her breasts pleasured her, though she dare not show it. And then he was in her. She bit her lip, not wanting to make a sound, as he drove into her, each stroke rubbing her against the rough bark. Suddenly, he was out of her, and spinning her round. His large hands lifted her up holding her bum, spreading her legs wide as he pushed up against her. His eyes too shone and sparkled, and she recognised the lust in them. Reaching up, she grabbed the lower branches, and closed her eyes. It was almost like the bedroom again, but he held her weight this time, almost tearing her apart and wide open as he grabbed her. She screamed this time, as he drove his head mercilessly into her bottom, the puckered ring straining to accept him.
“No” she gasped, yet feeling herself relaxing and opening to his insistence. “No” once more and then he was in her. He roughly kissed her neck, marking her, but she didn’t care, his shaft buried on her began to move, slowly at first. The unwilling muscles yielded, and she began to buck and gyrate on him, as he ploughed her deep and hard. She felt herself coming, despite her shame and her nakedness there in the wood. And then he burst inside her, his face red with the effort of holding her and holding back.
Still he shafted her, his cock hard, while his seed filled her and moistened her even further. And then she came, she cried out, she let go the branches, dropping herself onto him. He staggered slightly backwards from the tree, and she wrapped her arms around him. His come inside her began to seep around his cock as he slid from her, lowering them both to the ground. She shuddered as sensation after sensation burst through her like rays of sunshine. He slid from her forbidden hole, and they slipped to the ground, him kneeling before her, she sitting between his legs, hers still wrapped around him.
They kissed, with tears in her eyes as the smart of the caning rubbed on the ground. Eventually, they untwined, and as he stepped across to the hamper, she spread the blanket out on the ground in the patch of dappled sunlight, folding his clothes ready at one corner, just in case someone stumbled across them. Unclasping the catches, she folded the hamper back, and busied herself with the glasses and some sandwiches as he uncorked the wine. They both sat in silence, enjoying the warmth and the silence of the moment.
She stretched out, propping herself on her elbows, arching her neck to catch every last drop of warmth from the sun and the wine in her mouth. The peace and quiet was only broken by the odd occasional sounds of the countryside. John lay beside her, on his belly, warming his back. Occasionally he would kiss the side of her breasts, nuzzling her, while they silently soaked up the sun and the atmosphere. After three glasses of wine they were totally relaxed, and John rolled over, his lazy hardness in his prick nestling on his leg.
Janet knelt, and taking a mouthful of the fizzy wine began to wash him in her mouth, occasionally dribbling the wine down his leg. She sucked him hard once she had swallowed the remaining drops of wine, and sat up again. She passed him an apple, as she lazily wanked him, keeping him hard but not too excited (she hoped). Pulling a strawberry from it’s packing, she sat there smiling at him. A passing car made her pause, but the sound receded and they carried on, just being in love, and comfortable.
Pausing only to straddle him, and wrap his girth with her moist sex, she raised and lowered herself in a sure steady rhythm, watching him as he gamely tried to eat his apple. Losing herself to the steadiness of their lovemaking, she closed her eyes. John moaned softly below her, wriggling his body to make himself comfortable, and allowing him fuller penetration of the beauty atop him. Purposely she rode him, milking him, egging him on and on, yet steady enough to keep him from coming too soon. She reached a plateau again inside her of well being and warmth of feeling.
She relaxed herself a touch, to make sure she would not be urged to come too soon, and looked in his eyes as he stiffened. The look on his face made her panic, and he whispered that he was sure there was someone else there with them. She scanned around quickly, but had not heard anything and could see no one. She calmed his fears, even so far as to raise herself upright and caress her breasts in front of him, before lowering down slowly, to let him do that, and whisper it was okay.
Secretly, she imagined being watched, someone in the shadows, hiding in the tree, seeing her riding her lovers’ prick in full view. She closed her eyes as she felt the power of thought begin exciting tingles and sparks of wantonness inside her. What if there was someone there? They would see her arse, rising up and down, impaling itself on a hard glistening cock, slipping and slurping in and out of her. She wondered if there were marks on her bum where he had caned her, and the thought flooded her clit with a buzzing sensation.
Or were they in front, seeing her cunt lips wrapped around his cock, her breasts flushing and aching as Johns’ hands massaged and kneaded them? Again, she rose straight up, still sliding on his shaft, her eyes closed. She imagined the eyes focused on her, and she began to pinch and knead her breasts, enough to flinch from the pain she gave herself as she tortured her nipples.
John’s hands now roamed to her arse, and his fingers began to spread her wider and wider, till, having coated his fingers with juices from her and his shaft, he rubbed into her brown ring, until two fingers slipped just inside. Wailing, she pictured the stranger behind her, his prick at her arse, and she dropped forward on to her hands, supporting her weight, staring into Johns’ eyes. Grinding writhing, she imagined the stranger burrowing his prick into her arse. She kissed John and enjoyed the sensations of twin filling once more as his fingers in her arse alternated the invasion of her body with his prick in her sweet lovebox. She began to pant like a puppy, and kissed him, hotly, feverishly all over his face as first she felt a well of sensations flooding her arse as she came from that attention, which then loosed the orgasm inside her pussy as she collapsed onto John, sobbing and wailing.
His fingers left her rear hole, and she pictured the face-less stranger stepping away, just as John rolled her onto her back, scattering their plates and the empty bottle of wine. She wailed as he pinned her arms each side with his hands, and raising himself on his feet, rode into her. His hard smooth cock ploughed her furrow deep and wide, and she knew she was going to come again straight away. Hard triggering of pleasure boiled over inside her, a tidal wave of feeling that left her shaking and quivering as he pounded away at her.
His body only touched hers at their hands, and where his cock slipped in and out of her. He didn’t kiss her, he didn’t lie on her, he just pressed on, stabbing her with his dagger till she heard his familiar groan. His body spasmed and shook as he drew the tip of his cock to the very edge of her pussy, making himself come just inside her lips, the semen pouring from him and bubbling at the entrance to her. When he gave his last twitch, he dropped onto her, and slid the full length back into her, deep, before he began to soften.
This final act drove her over the last edge, and she clamped her legs and her arms round him as she shook under his body, holding him close to her as she came and came and came. She sucked him deep into her as he began to soften, and massaged him with the muscles inside her, feeling his spunk dribbling from her sex around him. Secretly, it began to stickily run down the inside of her thighs and to her bottom, to stain the blanket.
They lay again, holding each other, basking in the warmth for an age, before parting and pulling themselves away from their embrace. Dried patches of cum on her leg, and on the base of shaft peeled from their skin, and she sat up to run her fingers through her hair. She spied her skirt and blouse on the side of the clearing, and was just going to get them when she remembered her dress in the hamper.
Wiping herself on a tissue, she slipped the dress over her shoulders while John dressed, and she stepped away from the blanket into the path of sunlight now moved across the clearing.
Turning, John caught sight of her, her nakedness sheathed in a seeming shroud of misty white light as she stood in the sun to tease him. He stood and strode over to her, lifting her up and kissing her deeply, clasping her to him, wanting her again. She slipped away from him to fetch her discarded clothing and slip her sandals back onto her feet. They packed the hamper back up, with the still unopened second bottle of wine, and headed back to the car. Twice she almost snagged the dress on the undergrowth, but managed to keep it from being damaged.
Back at the car, they stowed the things safely on the back seat, and he took her round to the front of the car, laying her flat on the bonnet, kissing her all the while, raising the skirt of the dress to peer at her nakedness. He wanted her there and then, but they both knew it was too soon, so they settled for a cuddle and kiss, before she told him to drive. She slid into the passenger seat, watching him keenly out of her eye as he deftly put the car into gear and reversed out onto the road.
She blushed, throwing her hand to her mouth, as they spotted another car tucked into the roadside, not far from the entrance to the woods. No occupants were in it, and she laughed out loud, nervously, wondering if it were another courting couple, or some voyeur. Her mind raced, thinking what if they had been seen, and she had been seen doing such acts of sexuality.
John just laughed, saying “Ignore it, forget it” but it was some miles before the blush faded from her cheeks.
V
They meandered along the quiet country lanes for a while, just soaking up the pleasant afternoon, warm air, no hurries, and nowhere to be. John calmly drove, allowing the car to follow the curves and bends, driving steadily and collectively. Janet looked at him beside her, his strong hand holding the wheel while the other elbow lolled on the window’s edge. She smiled at him and stroked his leg. He smiled back, but missed the glint in her eye. Her hand began to stroll higher and further, into his crotch and then back down to his knee.
He hissed as she suddenly grabbed his bold ridge, outlined by the denim, and began to protest when her fingers popped the buttons on his fly. He pulled into a gateway and was about to remonstrate with her, when she reminded him of his own flirting in the car earlier. He shrugged, as if in defeat when she began to tug his jeans partly down, till her cool fingers found his throbbing heat, and popped it into the air.
When he made to lay back and allow her free fettle, she sat back in her seat, just saying, “Drive”!
Stunned, he asked her what she meant.
“Just drive”, and she stopped him rearranging his clothes. And so it was that they pulled out of the gateway, back onto the country lane, with Janet’s hand on his tool, as he nervously carried on driving. As they approached a dual carriageway, he made to push her hand away, but she obstinately refused to let go. The road they were joining ran all the way round the town, skirting all the different estates and villages, saving through-traffic entering and congesting the city centre.
Telling him to stay on this road until she had finished, she waited for a suitable gap behind and in front, away from prying eyes of other drivers, and bobbed her head down onto his lap. Her seat belt quietly rolled back into its’ holder as her lips closed around the red angry head of his shaft, her hand gripping the base of the shaft, dragging his foreskin as far back as it would go. Rolling all around this peak of his heat, her tongue licked and moistened him, and occasionally she would close her lips around him and suck, before dragging their softness across his very tip, releasing him before her tongue returned to caress and tease.
Fingers, wrapping and coaxing, began to fondle his balls, and the sound of the tyres on the road and the rush of air around them heightened every sense. He was careful to avoid being too close to anyone he overtook.
He was sure they would never see Janet tucked in his lap, but he wouldn’t be able to trust his own expression not to give him away. Wave after wave of pleasure flowed through his groin, and it seemed a separate being to the rest of him as he held his eyes on the road. Occasionally, he would drop one hand to caress her head, her neck, as she began to drive him, push him, and suck him to release.
Despite their earlier exertions in the woods, he felt the familiar burden of come begin to flow around his balls. No doubt Janet had sensed it too, because just as he seemed on the point of coming, she snapped her head away from him, sitting bolt upright and fastening her seat belt.
He groaned again at her, his cock standing hard and brooding. She leaned towards him, and held it lightly, one finger tracing around the rim of his helmet as she pulled the foreskin back up to cover him. She laughed gently at his pain in his face, and his disappointment, then slowly rubbed him, up and down, her thumb and forefinger circling his bell end.
She watched as his eyes remained on the road, half his mind on the driving, half on the torture that she was giving him. Yet again, just when she thought that it was too close, she stopped, releasing him from her hold. They were coming up to one of the big shopping malls, and she told him to pull in and go to the far end of the car park.
Covering his cock with her hand, as they drove in and out of the parking lanes, she watched as he guided the car to the far end of the lot. At this time of day, though it was busy, few people came up to this end, as it was too far to walk to and from the car. They pulled up alongside a transit van, shielding them from the buildings, with just a few sparse cars in the rows in view behind them.
He killed the engine and undid his seat belt. Staring at the blank brick wall in front of the car, he groaned again as she began to wank him to full hardness. His head lolled back, and he closed his eyes. He never thought anything of it when he heard her seatbelt snick out again. But when the car door suddenly opened, and she was gone, his eyes were open in a flash.
Standing in front of the car, her back against the wall, and one foot propped up against the bumper, she splayed her dress open, gathering the flimsy cloth up to her waist. When he made no move to get out of the car, she licked one finger, and very slowly dipped it into her sex, only pulling it out to beckon him to her. He eased from the car, clumsily walking towards her, his jeans open, and his cock stuck out straight in front of him, his balls hanging over the waistband of his boxers.
As he glanced nervously down the side of the building towards the Store entrance, she stepped to the car and spread her body on the warm bonnet. The burning of the heat of the engine bore into her as she heard him grunt, roughly part her cheeks apart, and then slip straight into her. No effort, no foreplay as such, but straight in, deep, true, and hard.
She was, of course, wet, willing, and ready for him. She trusted him to have the sense to make sure no one would venture down here till they were finished, but she need not have worried. Having teased him enough in the car, she felt the familiarity of his rapid strokes soon after he had entered her and then his grunting as he spasmed into the finally few strokes. He came in her, driving the last push in so hard that the breath was driven from her lungs. She milked him with her muscles until he finally withdrew from her.
He stepped back, and she heard the rustle of his clothes as he regained his dress sense, while she stayed there, relishing in the heat of the bonnet and the sensations in her crutch as the sun played its’ rays on her arse, bare to the world. Sighing, she stood, and folded the crumpled dress back down, smoothing the material as best as she could over her belly and thighs. He stood at the driver’s door, pulling the handle to open it. She walked away from him, towards the entrance to the store.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
She looked back over her shoulder, laughing, and calling him to come with her, they could do with a walk round the shops. Bemused, he shook his head, locking the door, and running to catch her up. Pulling his arm to tuck hers into it, she snuggled up to him as they strolled in through the doors to mingle with the others. Here she was, having just been fucked in the open air, in broad daylight, in a car park, walking through a shop. A smile played across her lips. Her belly still felt on fire, the thrill of a quickie just as much to her as a long slow pleasure making in bed. She hadn’t wanted to come herself, she had wanted to tease him until he could hold back no more. She dragged him all the way round the shop, whispering things in his ear that made him blush and turn to her, telling her to stop it!
She could feel the warmth of the glow of satisfaction inside her belly as his come began to run down her thighs before drying there. As much as he loved making love to her, worshipping her very sex, the entrance to her, she loved his seed and the feeling of him bursting, exploding, and letting himself pour into her. For as much as he respected the fact that he could enter her very body, her soul, she allowing him that invasion, he never realised how much she appreciated his spill in her. The fact that over the years they had both learnt restraint and pace with each other, often delaying their own pleasure for the other to come first, merely made each coming worth that wait. But every now and then, she just loved the feeling of a quick shag, the roughness and thrill of it special in its’ own way.
VI
Walking back to the car she suggested that they call into a pub for a quick drink, they had nothing to rush home for. He looked at her, sensing that she was still in a playful mood. He pointed out that they still had a bottle of wine in the hamper, but she just shook her head and said a pub would be a nice change. Somewhere different, somewhere they hadn’t been before. And weren’t likely to go back to she nearly added. Back at the car, she reached behind the seat for the hamper, opening it while he started the engine, purring into life easily. Leaning back, at the side of the transit van, she slipped the dress from her body, draping it on the passenger seat. John nearly choked when he saw that she was naked save but for her sandals.
“For God’s sake, Janet…” he stammered.
Laughing, she rubbed her breasts, rolling the flesh in her hands, and poking the nipples through her splayed fingers. She trailed one hand down onto her belly, and in typical Schoolgirl pose, cocked her head to one side and put a finger in her mouth. Feeling decidedly wicked, she trailed the hand with the wet finger down her body, slowly, agonising the look in his eyes as she hooked it, slipping it in and out of her sex, in front of him in broad daylight. She felt free, released, and able to do anything.
“Christ almighty Janet, some-one is coming” he hissed.
She thought he meant her, till she heard footsteps from the other side of the van. Quickly, she slipped the wrap round skirt back on her waist, and pulled the blouse onto her arms, but didn’t do the buttons up. Just as she was putting the hamper back, a couple walked not thirty yards away, back to their own car. Her breasts dangled down below the cover of the blouse, giving John an impromptu flash. She popped herself back into the passenger seat, and pulling her lipstick from the glove compartment, applied a bloom of red gloss to her lips in the mirror.
John drove swiftly but safely back along the dual carriageway until they came to a junction showing some villages not far away. Janet slowly buttoned up most of the buttons, but not all, just enough to keep showing John a hint of cleavage now and then.
Within fifteen minutes they were sat in the corner of a country pub, John with a pint of shandy and Janet with a large Brandy. They chatted quietly, away from the view and gaze of the few locals there. This was probably the quiet part of the day in there, after the lunchtime rush and before the evening crowds came out.
After sitting there for a while, Janet spotted a pool table in the back room of the pub, and daring John to go refresh her glass challenged him to a game. It was years since they had played, it would be a fun way to end their excursions of the day, she thought. As he made his way over to the pool table, she had racked the balls up and was testing her aim, just gliding the cue ball up and down the table. Obviously women didn’t play pool in this pub, as she attracted a couple of frowns and stares from the few people who had seen her walk over. She shrugged them away, not caring, this was just going to be one quick game and then away.
Their laughter echoed round the room, as they both played good and then silly shots. Every opportunity she got, she would try and distract him by a flash of her thigh, or a glimpse of her cleavage. She had even undone her buttons far lower than she had ever dared to before in her life while she was out, and at one stage actually had one breast lying naked on the cushion!
She deliberately chose to make one shot, which was hard, rather than take an easy option. Bending her body to the table, she lined up the cue and cue ball, then opened her legs wider and shuffled backwards. This pinned John between her and the table. No one from the other room could see them as they played their game, and she rubbed her pussy against his ridge of pressure in his jeans.
She heard him gasping, she had caught him right. His hands grabbed her waist and pulled her back onto him as he leaned more into her and her body. Just when she thought they might both get out of control, she went to take her shot. But he slipped back, slightly away from her.
She shrugged her shoulders and carried on with her aim. Just then, she felt the shaft of his cue between her legs, his free hand pulling the skirt up at the back and away from her. She trembled as he slid the length of polished wood along her lips, the delicate pressure tingling her every sense. And he had hold of the tip of the cue, which meant that every pull back splayed her open with the handle end of the cue.
“Take it firm, and slow, be steady” he said. The pool, or her cunt? She didn’t care. She wouldn’t care if he slid the end of it inside her and fucked her there on the table in the pub with his cue. But he didn’t. He stepped smartly away from her, reaching the table with the drinks, and taking a large mouthful of his.
“Go on then” he teased, knowing full well that she was incapable of anything. He had left her on the brink, on the very edge, the peak of the summit, without letting her see the other side. So, he had teased her, and he would pay for it! She took the shot, missing the pot by a mile.
She walked on unsteady legs over to him, draining most of her glass in one fell swoop, huskily telling him it was his shot. The bastard knew she had been close. Her eyes must have said it all, as she could see everything in the room, but blurred around the edges. It took a few minutes longer for her mind to clear completely, but she made him pay for it.
When she was watching him play a shot, she would grip the cue tightly, and place it between her legs, out of sight of any inquisitive eyes, and rub the narrow shaft along her open quim. She almost got carried away when he was on a roll, he was potting ball after ball, and she was masturbating openly in front of him, till finally he fluffed a shot.
As he told her it was her shot, he sounded almost as breathless as she was. In the end, she potted the black accidentally and so the game drew to a close. He stared at the slick trail she had left on the shaft of the cue, wiping it almost sacredly as he placed his beside it. They finished their drinks, waved at the barman on their way out, and so headed back home.
VII
The evening air was still warm, but cooling slightly, and as they pulled back into their drive, dusk was falling. Janet wandered out onto the garden while she waited for the kettle to boil, and idly began checking the flowers and plants. John followed out after her, and pulled the hosepipe from the wall, watering the dry soil and wetting all the plants. Inevitably, she got in the way of the fine spray and shrieked as the cool water wet her blouse.
John just laughed, and diverted it away from her. The sudden shock of the water on her clad bosom had hardened her nipples, so they now stretched the silk in front of them. She shivered as the material cooled, and walked in front of John once more. He frowned as she was wetted, flicking the pipe to one side, but she followed it, ending up chasing it. They began laughing and playing like kids in the summer. She wrestled with him, and they both fell to the ground, the water playing not inches from her hand.
Suddenly she grabbed the pipe, rolled him onto his back, straddling him, and pushed the pipe down his jeans. His crotch soaked, the dark stain growing as he struggled to free the pipe. When he did, he sprayed her liberally with it, pinning her to the ground, muffling her cries with his lips. In a mad instant of frenzy, and before they knew what they were doing, she was naked under him. His shirt was off, and she clawed at his jeans, ripping the buttons open. He stood, sliding out of the tight jeans, checking that no one was in either garden to each side, and laid, naked, on her. They didn’t make a sound, the sprinkling hose abandoned at the side of them, as he entered her, swiftly, smoothly, in one easy strike. She gasped, and pulled him hard onto her, her fingers raking his back. The light from the kitchen spilled onto the patio but didn’t reach them. They made love on the grass, her back covered in cuttings, stains of soil patching her like camouflage, so when she rolled him again to straddle and fuck him, she was invisible from the back. Gliding up and down his shaft, in the open air, in the warmth of the evening, she felt freer, more liberated than she ever had before.
Somewhere a window closed, someone coughed, a car drove past in the street, but she didn’t care. Someone could have stood right in front of him or her, but she wouldn’t have stopped now. She was approaching an orgasm, and his hands rubbed her breasts, the nipples sensitive and burning in his fingers. She dropped to his chest, clutching at him and gasping for air as she convulsed, shaking with the effort of keeping quiet as she came. His hands slipped from her and held her to him, his lips seeking hers, and kissing the cold tightness of her mouth. She shivered, suddenly feeling the chill of the air as they lay there. Her back was covering in little goosebumps, though his heat flowed up into her from below.
He was still hard inside her, unsated, and she knelt up, lifting herself from him. He smiled, knowing that he would come again in her tonight. Now was not the time, he could wait. Janet had learnt how to milk him dry yet still bewitch him with her body so that he could stay hard, for her as well as for him. She was always so careful not to dry his tenderness with friction. The sweet elixir of her juices always saw to that anyway.
Gathering their clothes, she strode to the back door, her body silhouetted against the yellow light burning in the kitchen. He threw the hosepipe onto the garden, before running up behind her, turning the tap off outside the back door. In the kitchen, he laughed at her as he closed the door behind him. She was covered in grass and mud, her hair dishevelled and unkempt.
Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her up the stairs and into the shower. She stood, kissing him, little butterfly flickers on his face, her eyes closed, as his large hands gently washed her, and wiped away all traces of the garden. Her body trembled, as she felt a fire inside her that wanted to be quenched, and soon. The presence of his body, and his cock, semi-erect, nudging into her at every movement, seemed to heighten her needs. She reached down, to run her hand along it, feel the heat and the power in that one piece of flesh she desired. She knew every ridge and bump along it, as well as it knew her every innermost secret and place of her body. She shuddered with anticipation as she imagined it inside her again. And it would be.
“Next time, we’ll have to take the blanket with us won’t we” he chided, running his fingers through her hair.
Their eyes met, and they stood, body to body, skin to skin, under the cleansing pulse of the water. Their eyes never left each other’s, as they washed their bodies clean, his strong arms encompassing her in the shower. Once, just once, he kissed her, hard and deep. The water from the shower jet flowed over them both, warming and rinsing them, as his hands cupped the cheeks of her arse. She could feel the river down her back trickling through the chasm he held open, till it reached her shaven minge, where it cascaded down between her legs and splashing her thighs. Her hand, on the back of his neck, pulled him harder onto her as she let herself be swallowed by the moment.
They both stepped from the shower together, and with the large white fluffy bath towels, dried each other carefully, tenderly, paying special attention to their erogenous zones, but not forcing the moment or the heat of desire within them, that would come later. And anyway, John smiled sweetly at her as he thought of a surprise for her later when they were downstairs.
VIII
John slipped downstairs to open the saved bottle of wine from the hamper while she tidied the bathroom. When she came down the stairs, naked and glowing, he was in the living room. The curtains were drawn to the front window, but the French windows to the garden were open, to spill the cooling evening air into the room. She took the glass of wine and sprawled on one of the large sofas, enjoying the bite of the juice, as her body lay warm and inviting. Idly, John flicked the TV on, and Janet moaned inwardly.
God, if he was going to watch sport now, she might as well read a book. Moving as if to rise, she glanced at the screen, the sound was turned down. Where she expected to see footballers running up and down, she froze.
There she was, on the screen, in living colour, spread and tied to the table in their kitchen. Her stomach fluttered, and her heart skipped a beat. There, looking every inch as if she was a porn star, she had John’s cock in her mouth.
She was stretched on the table, his body folding over hers, and the cucumber being eased in and out of her slowly by his hand. Thank god he had turned the sound down. Janet sat back in the settee, her nerves feeling every inch of both invasions, and then gasped when she remembered the third intruder in her anus, and John’s hand mercilessly moved behind her, lifting her dildo and slowly inserting the tip into her on the screen.
The sight before her eyes transfixed her. They had watched little of the tape since that night, and not as far as this (this must be near the end, she hoped). John had transferred the cassettes from the camera onto one videotape. “I bet he watched it all” she thought, her eyes still glued to the screen as she felt and heard him move next to her, his weight and warmth feeling close, so warm, so comforting.
The screen froze, puzzled she looked at him. He had paused the tape. Just as she was about to ask him why, she looked at his face, and followed his gaze down to her body. Her nipples stood hard and proud, her bosom was heaving as she fought to breathe. She had been so engrossed in the TV she hadn’t realised the effect it was having on her.
She pressed the “Play” button on the remote in his hand, and then knelt on the floor, exposing her sex to him as she dropped to all fours. In front of her, the flickering image of her being filled in every hole dominated the screen, and filled her mind.
She felt him, behind her now, nudging at the wet entrance to her vagina, her labia fully opened. She rocked back onto his length, driving him into her. He stayed stock still, watching the screen too. And she rode him, rocking backwards and forwards, evenly, drivingly, while on the screen she was fucked in every way.
She came, time after time after time, all the while pacing the movement of her body round his cock to give her what she wanted yet prevent him from coming. She watched open mouthed as on the screen he untied her, she felt every whisper of the binds on her skin, then watched as he stepped behind her, holding her, laying his body on hers.
As he entered her on the screen, she saw herself mouthing the words “Fuck me” over and over, and raised the tempo of her moving into unison with his on the screen. His hands gripped her waist from behind, and she heard him grunting, as he took over. She felt him in her, while on the screen he was fucking her. It was like watching herself in a dream-like state, being made love to.
A voyeur on her own coupling, her body seemed to sob and ripple with each thrust, and she came again, this time more powerfully than before, and she sprawled forward on the floor on her belly, gasping for air, her mind spinning.
Rolling onto her back, she looked him in the eye, seeing his reddened face from the exertions and from almost coming. Gripping her ankles steadily, she pulled her legs back and wide, presenting a perfect “V” shape, and a clear view of her sex and her arse to his eyes. His hard cock twitched, shaking free a small dab of pre-cum from the tip of it.
“Take me John, take me hard” she whispered, her eyes dazzling with lust, “Take me, there”.
She nodded her head and smiled as he looked at her questioningly before lowering himself between her legs. She pulled back on her ankles, lifting her bum from the floor, the cool air from the open doors wafting onto her lower back as the tip of his cock nudged and played around her backside. She relaxed every muscle she could, and he glided into her, sweetly, smoothly.
Beginning with short pushes, he was soon rolling the full length of his cock slowly in and out of her. The juices from her cunt dribbled down to lubricate his shaft, and he kissed her on the mouth, their lips tingling and cold from the orgasmic pulsing they both felt.
Twisting her legs, she locked them around his back when he was deep inside her, and clasped her arms around his broad shoulders. He lifted, just a fraction, and she was swinging from him, impaled on his cock, buried deep in her arse, hanging onto him. She felt her head spinning (not the wine surely!) and wailed as she felt herself coming. She could almost slip into unconsciousness with the ecstasy of the feeling, the penetration, the rolling peals of thunder in her ears. But she hung on, digging her nails into his back, egging him on, watching the strain in his face, and, when the time was right, kissing him. Suspended in mid-air, she felt him coming deep inside her, and she was falling, falling.
She let her head back, and he lowered them both onto the carpet, but she would not relinquish her hold on him. She dug in with her heels into his back, trapping him inside her as he began to soften.
Above and behind her the screen flickered with further images of them both, but she closed her eyes and her mind to that, as she felt his warmth, felt his spill inside her, and his softening. Waiting till he fell from her, she held him, feeling his heart beat against her breast.
When they were uncoupled, she rolled him onto his side, facing him, stroking him, kissing him, licking his face, touching his belly, squeezing his manhood. Turning off the TV, his arm held her by the waist, and they both drifted to sleep, with just the sounds of the cool night air to serenade them.
IX
The cool breeze from the open doors had woken her. She glanced across at John, curled and touching her body with his where they had fallen asleep. Glancing at the clock on the wall, and seeing it was three in the morning, she silently rose, padding across to the open doorway.
Although it was cool, and the hours before dawn when everything chilled, see stood there, gazing across the lawn, to the night sky, and the full moon, hanging like an orb of decadent sorrow. She looked down at her skin, seeing the eerie ethereal glow imparted to her body from the heavens. Her nipples stood proud, and she drew her breath in to make them stand firm and proud.
Behind her, John had stirred, though without saying anything, he too joined her at the door. Words, right now, would have spoiled the moment, each lost in their own world of freelance imagination and caverns of expectancy. Not turning, not looking at him, she closed her eyes, feeling for him with her senses. Vibrancy between their sated bodies spoke with empathy.
He slipped away, quiet as a whisper, to return seconds later with a freshly poured glass of the forgotten wine. The aura of his arm curved around her, tingles of electricity flowed between them though they did not touch. Senses heightened to a point of almost pain, she opened her lips as the glass touched them, and sipped of the wine, the liquid carving a clear path through her mouth, down her throat to her belly. Almost sensually, fingers of warmth began to expand within her as she held on to the frame and sipped some more.
The glass moved away, and she held some of the wine in her mouth. She heard John take a drink, then put the glass down on the side, stepping back towards her. Almost provocatively, she parted her moist lips, and running her tongue around them, knowing he could see, she let trickles of wine teasingly slide from her mouth.
The cascade held on her chin, fractionally, before dropping and dripping to her chest. He glided, almost wraith like, under her arm as she posed in the frame, bathed in the moon’s glow. As soon as she sensed him through and past, she placed her feet against the frame, from behind – a silhouetted “X” against the silvery light.
The course of the wine continued to meander down her body, past her nipples, over the soft under-skin of her breasts, across her trembling belly, and towards her thighs, spread wide, and her mound. His fingers began to trail her, from her fingertips, along her arms, to her neck, towards her face. Still she kept her eyes closed, the tickle of his touch sending her mind into overdrive. Her head went back, exposing her neck to his tender touch, picking up the start of the wine trail, slowly drying on her skin and leaving a sticky trail of alcohol.
His tongue found her chin, but not her lips. Instead, it began to slowly wander along the trail mapped out along her body, licking and cleansing her as it went. Her legs began to shake as he rolled each nipple in his tongue, before closing his lips on the protruding buttons and sucking them dry.
She ached, and her legs almost began to wobble as he licked under her breasts, lifting the mounds of flesh with the strength of his tongue before he kissed her belly.
The wine had stopped at the entrance to her sex, as if hovering teasingly above there. Copious amounts of liquid were beginning to run down her inner thighs though, as her cunt began to flex and lubricate in anticipation of the welcome tongue, nearing even closer now.
Her heart fluttered as he licked her belly, dragging down towards the centre of her being. Since touching her neck and finding the wine trail, his fingers had not touched her at all. His tongue, that magnificent tool of his mouth had been the only touch of him on her.
Finally, he reached the skin above the hood of her clitoris. His breath warmed her, and she sensed herself down there, opening wide for him, wanting him to make her come. She braced herself against the framework, ready for the onslaught that would surely begin soon.
His cheek brushed her thigh, and the curls on his head tickled and charged her with electricity as he licked up and down each side of her opening, yet not touching her where she ached most. Hanging in space, a timeless moment of wonder, she opened her eyes to stare at the moon.
At that moment, as if by telepathy, his tongue left its’ travels and torment of her soul, and the void left almost made her scream out in anguish. The moon hung in the sky, and she glanced down to look at him. But he was not there. In the shadows of the shrubbery, cast by the moon, his body was barely visible, till her eyes began to adjust to the comparative gloom having been bathed in the full moon glow.
Like a silvery ghost she began to make out the shape of his back, though with his dark hair she could not see his head. She looked back at the moon again before looking down. When she did that, she could see nothing below her, like she was going to be used by a ghost…
Her eyes full of moon tears of expectation, she gasped as his breath warmed her down there, and his tongue began to flick lightly at her exposed clit. In her mind she imagined it to be proud of her body, willing it to grow in length, so he could suck it, almost like a cock.
Again, as if by magic, his lips touched her there, and began to draw her into his mouth. Her arms shook, her breasts wobbled magnificently, the peaks of her nipples dancing to the pain of her orgasm as he sucked and then licked at her.
It was hard for him, in that position and he tried not to touch her with his face, his nose, his hair, but she was swaying backwards and forwards, almost out of control. When she came, it hit her full in the stomach, forcing the wind from her lungs, her fingers scrabbling on the woodwork to support herself as her body exploded around her. The moon disappeared as if in a display of shooting stars, and she wasn’t sure if they were real or the product of this shattering orgasm rolling around inside her. Her breath came in huge sobs as she fought to claim control over her body once more. His mouth had now left her, and she continued to quake as the ripples began to recede.
She looked down once more, but could not see him…
X
Silently, and without her being aware, he had slid down, and crawled back through between her stretched legs, making sure not to touch her with his body at all. The sounds of her aching and sobbing in the still night air covered any mute sounds he may have made as he passed back through into the living room. He watched her from the rear, as her body racked through with the force of her orgasm, and her skin seemed to burn with the glint of the moonlight off the sweat drenched pores of her being. He wondered at her powers, and the hunger, which had been sparked in her over the past week.
They were not kids anymore, they had been through many of the stages of experimentation together over the years, some before they had met each other with their various partners earlier in their lives. He saw her head droop, and he silently emptied the glass of wine, savouring the heady bite of the nectar.
He stepped close to her body now, silently breathing, not daring to touch her for fear of giving the game away. Somehow he had sensed that she wanted, needed him, and he felt that to speak, or to kiss would have broken that spell, that yearning. She still posed her body in the doorway, the sharp edges of the frame contrasting completely with her smooth soft form. With her arms upstretched like that, still gripping the edges of the framework, he fed his arms through and past hers, reaching round, and his breathing almost at a standstill. She shuddered as his hands touched her breasts, the palms flattening the fleshy orbs against her rib cage.
He braced himself, for she had not opened her eyes. He was hoping she would keep them closed, if only for a while longer. As he had guessed, she assumed he was in front of her, and her body pushed back against where she thought his was. He held her weight as she fought to regain her balance, and then moved his body onto her back, pulling her onto him, and his cock nestling between the cleft of her arse, growing harder by the minute, yet still pointing earthwards, trapped by their bodies.
She shrieked, almost in alarm, and her eyes flew open. Where she had expected to see John stood in front of her, there was nothing. She glanced down, to see his hands on her breasts, realising he had somehow slipped behind her. The theatrics had been good. Just as she opened her eyes, it was almost as if a ghost, or even the man in the moon was ravaging her, before her senses told her it was his body at her behind.
She closed her eyes, wishing away the image of it being John. She just wanted it to be a wraith, a fleeting figure, watched only by the moon. The only times she opened her eyes after that was to gaze into the bright light of the fullness of that orb.
He pressed her breasts harder and harder, kissing and licking the exposed skin at the back of her neck, folding her will and holding her soul against his skin. He began to stroke her nipples, then pull at them, seeming to make them impossibly long before mashing and massaging them again with the palms of his hands. Her slight sighs escaping from her lips let him know this was good for her, and she knew it must be good for him, as his prick was painfully trapped between them, fully erect now, ragingly hard, yet pointing down still.
This simply pushed him into ensuring she would feel the pulse of another coming before he even thought of himself. He slid one hand onto her belly, pulling her backwards, pressing her harder into his flesh, and still not allowing him even the remotest chance of an accidental release from the clasping hold on him. She moaned slightly, and mewing whimpers floated onto the air from her as he found the hood of her clit again, but this time with his finger. He brushed past it though, sensing that perhaps that may be too much for her too soon.
He still clasped one breast to her chest, the nipple squeezed tight between his knuckles where he could tweak and torture her with varying amounts of grip. He slid his finger straight into her channel, the hot juices allowing him to easily slide and move it around, finding the best position for him to hook and reach up to find her G-spot. And he did, easily. On the back of his hand, his cock nudged him, as he found that one piece within her, the one area that could really set her free and flying. Once that path was underway, she would never be able to hold back from her desires.
He smiled as he felt the walls of her vagina clamp around his finger, as he began to stroke and circle around that sensitive spot, the tenderest most lightest of moves would give her the greatest rewards possible, he knew that from experience. She began that rhythmic pounding and shaking of her torso as the convulsions inside her began to take a hold and have their own grip on her immediate destiny. Sure enough, she began that familiar tensioning of her vaginal walls, almost as if trying to crush the invader inside her.
And then it happened, and she cried out loud, her voice echoing around the gardens in the still night air. Breathing came hard for her, and she almost lost her grip on the doorframe, her body sagging heavily onto his finger inside her. His arm at her breast also took some of her weight, and he patiently twitched his finger at her inside, feeling wave after wave of pure power of pleasure studding its way across the walls of her moist tunnel.
Lost in the world he had plunged her into, she wasn’t aware of exactly when he eased back from her, freeing the trapped shaft of his prick from her cleft. If she had had the chance to think back, she would have recognised the extra peak as the wide hot head of him rolled on up the valley before flickering over her perineum and just kissing the entrance to her backside. But she hadn’t. And neither was she really aware of him spreading her labia wide with his fingers before easing his shaft into her, his knees bent to lower his torso to the right level. She only became aware of it when he had been thrusting into her for quite a while. Her hands still held on to the framework, and she gazed longingly at the moon as she felt him roll his girth into and out of her. She was coming almost every time he touched deep inside her, nothing quite as out-of-the-world as with his finger in her, but mini orgasms washed her clean from head to toe, each slightly longer and more powerful than the one before.
She recognised the signs; this would end in a mind-blowing burst of power inside her. She brought her legs in from the framework to stand up a little, but renewed her grip with her hands. When she was stood at the right height, she raised on leg and curled it almost impossibly towards his back. He must have sensed what she wanted, for his large hands grabbed her by the hips, his arms straightening and strengthening his hold on her as he began to take her weight and she lifted the other leg gingerly clear of the floor. And she flew.
Hanging on to the doorframe, John hanging onto her hips, thrusting into her, rocking her backwards and forwards. She opened her eyes to stare at the moon, the light filling her eyes, flooding her mind, while the cool air of the early hors whispered around her and kissed her skin in one sweet mouthful. She felt him quickening his pace, and the orgasms inside her began to melt into one another, till she felt it, her being burst free, and she dug her heels into his back, her thighs squeezing at his shaft as he finally loosed his come deep into her once more.
It rolled on, through her, over her, out of her, till she knew she could come no more. She let her legs fall to the floor gently, rubbing down his flanks, his cock still embedded in her, twitching and throbbing as it finally gave of its all within her. Their juices boiled over together, and she felt them slide onto the milky smooth skin of her thighs. She stood, legs like jelly, stunned by the feat they had achieved, until she found the strength to turn and hold onto him kissing him deeply.
Silently closing the door behind them, she led him by the hand into the house and up to their bed, where they cuddled under the warmth of the covers, yet her heart still pounded fast even as she heard him sigh and fall into sleep. She smiled to herself, and cradled his cock in her hand, curling into his side, and letting the warmth of his body take her into dreams.