0 comments/ 12323 views/ 4 favorites A Lunchtime Tryst By: ErosCallirhoe Chapter One: A Message from a Previous Co-worker I was having lunch with her for the second time in the past week. Jennifer and I had worked together at an agency for several years, and she had sent me a LinkedIn request for a recommendation. We had collaborated on a number of projects, and I was more than happy to oblige. I considered Jennifer a consummate professional, possessing deep technical knowledge and always a consummate team player. We built great rapport from day one and quickly developed a personal connection. Despite the friendship, our interaction was confined to the work environment. Jennifer had grown up in China and came to the states to extend her university studies. In the midst of completing her degree, she got to know one of her professors, who also had grown up in China, and they had married when she completed her degrees. He continued to teach at the university, commuting nearly an hour every day into San Francisco to teach classes five days a week. Jennifer had gotten a job at the agency and though she'd been there for almost 10 years and she had much greater potential than what the agency could afford to her, the position afforded stability and the routine of working there had become an assumed routine. The bond between us was one of mutual respect—personally and professionally. The personal connection was definitely there, as we often had fun bantering back and forth while working on different projects. Her no-nonsense, do-it-regardless-of-whether-you-want-to-do-so approach was an endearing trait and often gave rise to teasing by her boss and peers. Jennifer's upbringing in communist China had taught her to persist and exhibit a positive attitude, regardless of whether she actually wanted to do it. However, she did know her professional space, and she was willing to articulate her opinion, in a humorous, unpretentious manner, when prompted. In these instances, she did so with passion and conviction. Jennifer was attractive, a petite five foot, three inches with straight black hair that fell below her shoulders. When I first met her she was probably in her early 30s, which made her 41 or 42 now. Her smile did not light up a room, but rather brought warmth, an experience I began to relish over time. She didn't dress in an ostentatious manner and rarely used perfume to accentuate her presence. There wasn't anything overtly extraordinary about her body. Since she and her husband hadn't conceived and she thus didn't go through the travails of childbirth, her appearance retained an aura of youthfulness that is often lost in pregnancy. Her breasts were shapely but not out of proportion with the rest of her body. She had a cute ass, though its proportion coincided with the rest of her body. Since she often wore baggy clothing, sexual images of her were not easily culled. It was the emotional image—or connection—that lingered in the back of my mind and guided the events that took place. I didn't realize the extent of the connection between Jennifer and me until my final day. I said my goodbyes to the other members of the staff, many of whom had become close friends, hugging many of them in parting. Jennifer was the last to say her farewells. We stood talking for several minutes. I wanted to give her a warm embrace in parting; however, in the awkwardness of the moment, as she seemingly didn't know what to do either, we ended up saying goodbye without any physical contact. Jennifer left the agency for another company a few months after I moved on. I was very pleased when I heard that she had resigned, knowing that she would flourish when presented with new challenges and opportunities. Time flew past, and she had been at her new company for about nine years now. And despite enjoying her role and responsibilities, the company had started to flounder financially, and she decided that she should start looking at other options. As part of this process, Jennifer updated her LinkedIn profile and dropped me a note, asking me to recommend her. After I submitted the recommendation, she sent me a follow-up email, thanking me for doing so and asked me if I would like to grab lunch with her later in the week. We had met at a small sandwich shop. Though 10 years had passed, her appearance had virtually not changed. She retained the same petite figure, yet wore the same baggy clothing that concealed the contours of her body. Lunch gave us the chance to reconnect, and we covered the gamut in terms of topics; not just work-related but personal. Jennifer's mother had passed away several years before, and we visited about the time she had to take away from work to attend to her funeral rites in China and the mourning she had gone through. It had been a difficult time for her, and her staid demeanor that had been engrained into her when growing up in communist China cracked for a moment as she spoke about her grief and regrets. Her husband still taught at the university and was busier than usual, going into the city in the early afternoon and then returning home in the late evening. He hadn't been able to attend the funeral with her due to his teaching commitments. In accordance with her nature to speak her mind, Jennifer told me that this had created issues with their marriage, as she had felt abandoned during the entire process, and that the fissure never healed and they had made a decision to separate six months earlier and were in the process of filing for a divorce. When she broke down in tears when relating everything to me, I unconsciously reached out and placed my hand on the side of her arm to convey comfort. She returned the action with a warm smile. I removed my hand after a short moment, but the physical contact lingered in my fingertips. I began to talk about my professional career and then, with some prying, about my personal life—the completion of my academic wanderings to the latest on my family. Unfortunately, despite trying for years to save our marriage, my wife and I had decided to divorce the year before. I wanted to delve deeper, yet I decided it would disclose too much information and refrained. It was obvious that the emotional rapport from a decade before still existed, and that it was still easy for us to converse with each other and to talk about issues that we would discuss with only a few others in our lives. Chapter Two: A Marriage Gone Awry Her email to meet for lunch again so soon after our first reunion came as a bit of a surprise. The two of us said our goodbyes and lightly embraced in parting two days earlier. She told me that she had really enjoyed seeing me again and that our friendship meant a lot to her. I told her that we should get together again sometime and went back to the office. In her follow-up email, while she admitted that we had just met a couple days before, she indicated that she was going to be in the neighborhood of my office and thought it was a prime opportunity to take me to a new restaurant she had spoken about during lunch two days earlier. The next day, as the morning passed, I thought about Jennifer, our emotional connection and now a growing physical attraction. What I hadn't mentioned to Jennifer were the details that had led to the dissolution of my marriage. My former wife felt that I never did enough and it seemed was constantly upset with me. She withheld the right to yell at me, but I had no such privileges if I disagreed with her complaints. Whenever we got into a dispute, anything but complete agreement from me would set her over the edge—and she would become sullen for several days, only speaking to me in a terse and condescending manner. I continually walked on eggshells around her. And despite trying my best to avoid setting her off, it seemed that it was virtually impossible to avoid irking or offending her on most days. What was most frustrating is that she insisted that I had neglected her. For example, even if I had purchased a luxury item for her only a few months before, she would become indignant if I pushed back or suggested that we wait when she inquired about purchasing another one. Thankfully, I made good money, and thus I was able to come close to accommodating her lifestyle. Of course, it was a too-way street; she complained about not getting enough of the things she wanted, yet also talked about all of the sacrifices she made by not shopping at some of the highest end stores and not purchasing all of the high-end luxury goods that some of her friends had bought. It was a conversation that I could never win. Our life in the bedroom was never what I imagined of married sex life before our wedding. Her disinterest in sex started on our honeymoon, or actually before, and the bedroom remained a sore spot. She rarely initiated love making and spurned my advances 90 percent of the time, telling me that I really didn't care for her and that all I wanted was sex. Orgasm was something she seldom achieved, and she had concluded that sex was simply not something that was a high priority for or of interest to her. I had bought a couple vibrators a couple years earlier, and they had initially aroused additional sexual interest, but that only lasted for a few months. The initial excitement, which including willingness on her part to finally try different intercourse positions beyond the missionary style, had dwindled as she reverted to earlier levels of disengagement. Until two years ago, I had remained committed to finding a way to make the bedroom experience tolerable, and her sexual rebuffs I merely took in stride, concluding that the disinterest—and even periodic disdain and ridicule—was something with which I had to accept. However, I became more and more unwilling to put myself out on the line and my sexual desire had diminished. Fifteen months had passed since we had made love—and the times during the previous year could be easily counted on one hand. The relationship, on all levels, had begun to crumble—and it had taken a toll on me. Her aversion to the bedroom created insecurity in my mind about my manhood. Even though I'd maintained my shape since college, running several miles every day, and had been described as handsome by some of my women friends, my wife's sexual aversion, at least to me, was creating doubts about my virility. I began to wonder if I lacked sexual attraction. All of the resentment and utter lack of emotional and physical connection reached a breaking point about a year ago, when my wife told me that she wanted a divorce—that she no longer felt anything for me. The culmination left me disillusioned and uncertain of my sexual attraction and virility. I had never cheated on my wife, relegating myself to masturbation as the alternative for sexual relief. Indeed, as she and I had met in college, my sexual experience was confined to only her. And while we had some passing sexual contact before marriage, including brief intercourse on one or two times, the sexual encounters were confined to heavy petting and dry-clothed sex, with a couple attempts at oral intercourse. Of course, as I look back over time, I have wondered what would have happened if we had put aside our religious concerns and engaged in an active sexual relationship before marriage. Her apathy toward sex, at least with me, would have become evident, and both of us may have decided that marriage was not the right choice. Admittedly, there were indications, as she had decided after one or two times, that sucking on my cock was repulsive and regularly reminded me that my sperm was nasty, both in taste and smell, and always demanded that I wear a condom during intercourse; she didn't want any of it in her. But that was past history that could not be undone. Over my 15-plus years of marriage, I kept telling myself that things would improve, but they never did. Yet, even though she had made the decision to end our marriage, I still felt love for her. As a result, the conflicting feelings I felt that morning were both exciting and disconcerting. I had never made love to any woman other than my wife, and the marriage experience had left me uncertain and lacking in confidence. The prospect of taking the emotional connection with Jennifer to new heights in the form of a tryst was exhilarating and nearly all-consuming. Regardless, I didn't want to read too much into her actions. Perhaps she just wanted to rekindle a friendship. Chapter Three: Lunch Reunion Turns into a Tryst The restaurant was quaint and the tables were arranged so that we had a fair amount of privacy. Jennifer was already there when I arrived and was sitting at a table in the back. Instead of jeans or slacks and a pull-over shirt, she was wearing a skirt that cut off right above her knees and a nice blouse. She beamed a smile when she saw me and stood up to greet me, giving me a brief embrace before we both sat down. I did notice a hint of perfume on her when she did so. After ordering our food, we recommenced our conversation from our meeting earlier in the week. As that meeting was still fresh, the conversation and interaction was much easier, and we were soon bantering back and forth as we had often done so 10 years earlier. Ten minutes into the discussion I noted that her dress and blouse looked very nice, joking that she didn't wear dresses regularly. I could tell the compliment pleased her, as a smile spread across her face and she thanked me for it. Jennifer continued the same vein of conversation by telling me that "I had aged well and had kept good care of my body," indicating that her former husband didn't maintain an exercise regimen and that his age was beginning to show. She then took the line of thought a step further, observing that my wife had been quite lucky to be married to a handsome man. It was at that juncture that I let down my guard, confiding with her about my marriage and its demise. I couldn't believe that I spoke it: "I still love my wife, but she concluded that she no longer felt anything for me." When Jennifer prodded me for reasons, I kept the details at a high level, simply noting that she had been all-too-often displeased with any number of things. I admitted that I had shortcomings and had certainly made mistakes; however, the marriage had failed and it was time to move on. Jennifer then asked the question that brought my guard down altogether. "But things in the bedroom must have been fine," she queried. "You're a nice looking guy—joking that I still have all of my hair and no "spare tire" was visible (while poking me in the rib), make good money, and I am sure you were always attentive to her needs, citing what she had observed when we worked together 10 years ago. Initially, I wanted to tell her that the bedroom things were ok; however, we had already revealed a lot more to each other than either of us planned. "Not really," I said. "She was largely disinterested in me when it came to the bedroom." Surprised, Jennifer teased me and while staring at my crotch and smirking, asked "Well, is her disinterest due to an inadequacy?" I jokingly retorted that "this is something that could be discovered only through thorough investigation." She then indicated that "detective work can be fun." With the sexual tension running high, I quickly changed the topic of conversation back to her garden. Earlier, she had told me about the garden she had started growing several years before and how it gave her an emotional and physical outlet. I paid for lunch, and we walked out to her car. The conversation about sex was still swirling in my mind, but I wasn't sure what it all meant. Both of us seemed a bit uneasy and uncertain what to do next. I told her that it had been a lot of fun and that I probably needed to get back to the office, as I had a meeting later in the day. I bent over to give her an embrace and she reciprocated, though one much closer, tighter—and longer—than before. When I went to release her she turned her lips and lightly kissed my cheek, causing me to blush, telling me that I was a good man and should hold my head high. Then, before I could respond, she asked if I would like to come over to her house for a few minutes to see her garden. "It is only a few minutes away," she asserted, adding that it might be fun and that she would drive me. "Your meeting is still two and a half hours away." Wanting to spend more time with Jennifer, I agreed, realizing that I wasn't sure where all of this was headed. We got into her car and headed to her house. She pulled into the garage and shut the door. er Her house was well kept, just like her desk at work. I told her that the house was quite impressive, and that she should be very proud of all of the improvements she had made to it. Leading me from the garage to the kitchen she was self-effacing, informing me that it was not a huge house but one that served its purpose. She asked me if I wanted something to drink, and I declined, telling her that I had my fill at the restaurant. She concurred and asked me if I wanted to sit down on the couch. After turning on some music on the stereo, she sat, taking the chair that was adjacent to the couch rather than the one on the other side of the coffee table. Not sure what to say, as I was sitting only a few feet from someone with whom I was beginning to have intense feelings, I asked Jennifer, "So is the garden in the back, and does it come around the other side of the house?" She grinned and said "that is one place you could find it." Glancing down at her lap, she laughingly added: "The garden I wanted to show you is only a few feet away." At that juncture, she got up and sat down beside me. My heart raced, and I didn't know precisely how to react. She was smiling at me as she moved over beside me. "I am so full of desire right now," Jennifer revealed. "I shocked myself with the candor of our bantering today. Both of us are entering territory where we've never been, and we have a choice. I made mine when I invited you to come over. The intensity of the desire I have for you right now is intoxicating—and it is overwhelming me. Perhaps it is clouding my judgment, but I really don't care. I desperately want to make passionate love to you, to experience the warmth of your embrace, and to feel you inside me. What I feel for you is difficult to explain—something that can be expressed only in a combination of all the senses." She continued: "I am not sure what you are thinking or feeling, though I think—or hope—there is mutual feelings—and willingness to do something we wouldn't imagine doing under other circumstances." Chapter Four: The Journey to the "Garden" Jennifer and I stared into each other's eyes for a only a few seconds, though it seemed like an eternity, and I raised my hand to the side of her face, removing her glasses and lightly brushing my fingers across her face. I gently kissed her on the lips, and melted at the touch of my fingers on her face and lips caressing across her lips; the tension and anxiety of the moment dissipating, and she shifted her position on the couch, leaning towards me and placing her hand against my side. It was not a powerful kiss, but rather one that grew in intensity—lasting—as it seemed—for minutes. It was passionate, both of us relishing the moment with eyes shut, not sensuous; it only involved our lips and out mouths hadn't parted and tongues were silent observers. As we drew apart, my hand remained on her face and her hand on my side and our eyes met; she radiated an aroused smile—and I most certain mirrored her appearance. She quipped, "I take that as a yes." I didn't say a word; my facial expression said everything. "Well, if we're going to make this a memorable event, and I certainly want that to be the case, then we should relocate to the chaise," she added. Her living room was built as an extended sun room, and a cream colored chaise sat to one side. We stood and our lips locked in another kiss, my hand still on her cheek but the other one wrapped around her waist. She put her arms around my shoulders and pulled me into her body. A Lunchtime Tryst The five foot walk to the chaise seemed like a five mile jog. My heart throbbed in my chest, and we seemed to be walking on air. I sat down on the chaise, not knowing what would come next. "I am not done kissing you," Jennifer indicated. "I wanted to kiss you 10 years ago, and you didn't even give me a hug." She then pushed her dress up far enough so that she could sit on my lap while facing me. It wasn't far enough to reveal her secret garden, though it was tantalizingly close. When she sat down on my lap, she put her hands behind my head and, with a mischievous look in her eye, pulled my mouth to her waiting mouth. This time the kiss was more sensual. Her mouth parted, and I obliged, taking her tongue into my mouth and greeting it with my own. Like a predator leading its prey into its lair, her tongue withdrew and my tongue gave chase. It suddenly found itself ensnared; she closed her mouth around it, while flicking its tip with her tongue, and lightly sucked back and forth on it. This time neither of us closed our eyes; rather, both of us gazed into each other's eyes knowing the destination to which we were headed but uncertain of the precise route we were going to take. Jennifer's mouth finally relinquished its prey, and she began nibbling and gently kissing my neck and sucking on the lobes of my ear—and I reciprocated, inhaling the perfume she had sprinkled on her neck and shoulders. "That feels good," she purred, playfully biting at my ear while whispering in it. My hands were wrapped around her slender waist, and they found the opening at the bottom of her blouse. I carefully moved them up along her back, stroking along the contours of her spine. This caused her to move her body even closer to mine, prompting her to hike her skirt up even farther in order to accommodate the closer proximity. Then, while running her tongue along my neck she reached around to find the buttons on my shirt, starting with the first one. She worked her way down, one button and a time while I continued to caress her back. With the shirt still tucked into my pants and one button remaining undone, she retrieved my arms that were wrapped around her to unbutton sleeves. To get at the final button, she playfully yanked it free, finished with the last button, and pushed the shirt off of me. In virtually the same motion, she pulled my tee-shirt up and over my head and leaned back to take in a full view of my chest and stomach. "Still presentable at the neighborhood pool," she joked, as she craned her head, leaned forward, and placed her mouth over one of my nipples. She started with gentle kissing and began flicking it with her tongue and running it around the areola. I had placed one hand behind her head and the other had drifted back down underneath her blouse, this time exploring the area from her arm pit to her waist. As she played with the one nipple and areola, she began to pinch and caress the other one. My cock had come to life with the initial kissing and touching, but Jennifer's exploration was causing more and more blood to pour into it. She felt it growing, ceased the foreplay with my nipples and looked down at my crouch. With a naughty smile she reached down to touch it, causing it to recoil, though its girth and length grew with her touch. As she began to massage my cock through my pants, I commenced in removing her blouse, starting with the top button and working my way down. She told me "that I would be disappointed." And I replied with a definitive, "No," assuring her that her breasts were amazing. With the release of each button, more of them came into view. She was wearing a bra with a light, semi-transparent fabric and as I removed the blouse, I could see the tops of her breasts with each nipple and areola protruding from the fabric. I leaned down and began kissing her chest and the tops of her breasts not covered by the bra. She also reclined backwards, placing one hand on the chaise and wrapping the other one behind the back of my neck. "Oh, that feels so good," she told me. And I eventually discovered, after searching for the clasp behind her back, that her bra hooked in front. "Searching for something," she teased, unclasping it for me. The bra fell away and slid off her shoulders, with both of her breasts springing free. Both of us were now naked from the waist up. My hands were on either side of her, while she reclined with both of her hands behind her on the chaise. "What do you think of them?" she asked. I replied, "They are the fruit of your garden," which elicited a giggle from her and a lascivious smile from me. I put my hands behind her waist and pulled her mound up into me. The skirt was now bunched around her waist, and I could feel the warmth and wetness of her sex against my stomach. I yearned to taste it, but her breasts were the immediate priority. I reached out with one hand to squeeze one breast. Jennifer responded with a soft purr. With my other hand cupped behind her back, I used it to push her other breast up to my awaiting mouth and tongue. Her breasts were the ideal size; I was able to fit my mouth around its entire circumference while alternating between sucking and licking the nipple and surrounding areola. "Your breasts are wonderful," I mumbled between sucking. Jennifer's was enjoying the attention. When I peered up at her, I found that she had closed her eyes and was lustily licking her lips. She was playfully sifting through my hair with one hand and massaging my growing cock through the fabric of my pants. I then started to knead my mouth and teeth lightly on her areola and nipple while sucking on her breast. Each time that I did so, she let out a heightened sigh of pleasure. After a couple minutes I switched my attention to Jennifer's other breast, providing it with comparable treatment. "Does this feel good to you?" I queried. "I want this to be extra special for you." Without answering, Jennifer pulled my mouth up to hers and passionately kissed me. She then climbed off of my lap, adjusting her skirt so that she could gain easy access to the zipper on the back and pulled down on the zipper down. The taunt skirt was released, falling to her ankles. She was wearing blue bikini panties that were transparent through her pantyhose. I caught her ass on the underside in one hand and pulled her toward me. It was soft and smooth to the touch. However, she instructed me, "It is my turn to sit," sliding over to sit beside me while pushing me to stand in front of her. Chapter Five: It's My Turn Now Jennifer reached out to my belt, adeptly unbuckling it. She then unzipped my pants and unfastened the button. As they began to slide down exposing my briefs, she giggled, noting that she was very curious to see and touch me. "I've been wondering what your cock and balls look like," she disclosed. "Let's hope the anticipation has been worth it." However, rather than immediately removing my briefs, she leaned forward, opening her mouth and wrapping it around the head of my cock. After fondling and sucking on her breasts for the past 10 minutes my sex was already 90 percent erect, waiting to be freed from the constraints of its bondage. Because of its hardness it had extended sideways along the side of my leg, and its head was pushing against the elastic of my briefs. Pre-cum had accumulated and the wet residue had seeped onto my leg and had been absorbed by the fabric of the briefs. Jennifer nibbled along the shaft, compressing and releasing it with her mouth as she progressed to the head and the small pond of waiting cum. When she reached her destination she ran her tongue around the outside of the elastic band and then placed her mouth around the head of my cock, lightly sucking to extract the pre-cum that had soaked into the fabric. As she did this, I stroked one hand through her hair, while holding her other hand in a locked position. After a minute or two, she pulled back. "I am really curious to see a circumcised cock," she said. "The only cocks I've sucked or fucked have been uncircumcised." She then hooked her fingers around either side of my briefs and began to remove them. As she tugged them past my inflamed member, it sprung free, swinging out and hitting her in the mouth and nose. This elicited a laugh from both of us, and she reached up and grabbed hold of its shaft, taking in its appearance, particularly its circumcised tip. Not releasing it, she descended onto it, initially licking around its very tip and eventually wrapping her mouth around the head while continuing to use her tongue to play with the tip. She did not descend further than the head, gently placing her teeth around the rim. "That feels so good," I told her, adding "and it looks even better. I don't think there is anything more arousing than a woman giving head." She laughed, replying, "Well, I'm just getting started—arousal needs to move over for ecstasy." And she didn't disappoint. She cupped my balls in one hand, lightly massaging them, while her other hand remained intertwined with mine. I continued to playfully run my fingers through her hair with my spare hand. Initially, she simply ran her tongue around the tip of my head, enclosing her mouth around the head but then withdrawing after a few seconds. At first, I was entranced with the sight and simply watched. As she progressed, however, I allowed myself to relish the moment, closing my eyes. Now fully erect, my cock was at a 45 degree upward angle. Each time Jennifer entrapped and then released the head she would suck up all of the pre-cum that had built up. After one of her "entrap-and-release" maneuvers, she glanced up at me. "I really like circumcised cocks," she related. "I didn't realize what I was missing. And your girth is bigger." Changing her approach, she opened her mouth, inserted about half of my cock, and began sucking up and down on her. The vacuum she created was enough to begin extracting my cum from its reservoir, with her slurping only adding to my desire. My hips began to move back and forth as her mouth went up and down on my sex. I was entering a zone of ecstasy, and I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, taking in the entire experience. I thought she would come up for air in a minute or so, but she was intent on bringing me to climax. The pace of my breathing was becoming faster and faster, as I lost all vocal restraint and began to moan in utter pleasure. Periodically, she alternated the rhythm of her oral stroking and slowly increased the intensity of her sucking, drawing more and more blood into my sex, which I was convinced would be quickly followed by cum. It took only a few more minutes, and I began to cum, shooting six or seven loads into her mouth. As I felt the orgasm welling up in my loins, I warned her that I was about to cum, expecting her to withdraw her mouth and let the cum spray onto her breasts, but she simply winked at me and quickened her pace of stroking and sucking. Jennifer swallowed much of the cum, though due to the quantity she had cum around her mouth and she retained the last portion on her tongue, playing revealing it to me as she finally withdrew her mouth from my now spent cock. Our hands were still locked in an embrace, and I plucked her up from the chaise. Pulling her into my naked torso and pressing her breasts against my chest, I kissed her deeply, using my tongue to trace around the edges of her mouth, licking away the sperm that had gathered outside of her mouth. With my tongue I lured her tongue into my mouth, which I proceeded to suck lightly back and forth. I initially was repulsed by the thought of tasting my cum, as I simply wanted to express my appreciation to her, but discovered the action of passionately kissing her after she had eating me was exceedingly arousing. Chapter Six: Savoring the Pleasures of the Garden Having united with Jennifer in completing the disposal of my remaining cum, it was time for me to provide Jennifer with a comparable experience. Softly kissing her neck and ear, I teasingly asked, "Am I going to get to see your garden yet? I'm sure that I'm not completely out of fertilizer." She laughed and said, "I don't see how you would have any left after shooting more than "Old Faithful." While we were still in an embrace, I inserted my thumbs into either side of her panty hose, pulling them down over her ass. Unable to reach down any further, I got onto my knees, while she was still standing, and slid her pantyhose all of the way off, with her lifting each foot so that I could remove them entirely. Just as she did to me, I placed my mouth over her sex, starting with the clitoris and then gently nibbling my way down to the vagina, which was steeped in her juices. Her wetness emitted a sweet, tangy scent, and its taste matched the allure of its smell. "Oh, that feels so nice," Jennifer reported. "But aren't you curious to see what the garden looks like?" It didn't require my needling, and I began to remove her panties, revealing a very cute and sexy untrimmed bush and then her clitoris and labia, which were effused with blood and were a dark purple. I reached out with my mouth and grabbed some of the hair from her bush and gently pulled on her, which caused her to exclaim, "Yes, that is more like it." Now fully naked, she laid down on her back on the chaise. My initial thought was to spread her legs apart and begin eating her pussy, but I decided to take a different approach. I straddled her with my legs on the outside of both her legs so that she couldn't open her pussy to me, bent down and began running my tongue along the inside of her legs, starting above the knee and extending all of the way to the inside of her thigh. Jennifer welcomed this attention, moaning a sigh of pleasure, though I could tell she wanted me to do more than lick and kiss her legs. My half-erect cock hung down, with the tip brushing between her calves, which she opened so that it rested between them, enabling her to gently pull and squeeze it. Lubrication was provided by her remaining saliva and cum on my shaft. I extended my attention further up her body, grabbing the hair above her pussy in my mouth and playfully pulling on it. "I see you are trying to clear some bush," she joked. "Do you think that you can find the garden through all of the forest?" "I am an expert navigator," I quipped, "and I am sure that it isn't far away. You simply need to remain patient." With that both of us laughed, and I placed my mouth over her pussy, taking in the lingering perfume smells from her bush mixed with the juices that were accumulating in her pussy. I took my tongue and slowly licked her from the vagina all of the way to the clitoris. As I did so she took in a deep breath and arched her back. Her juices were already at the surface of her sex; its taste was both sweet and tart, and its musky smell was intoxicating. One of my hands remained on one of her nipples, lightly pinching and caressing it while the other one was poised on the inner part of her thigh. She had one of her arms reclining behind her head, exposing the unshaven hair in her armpit, and she was using the other hand to squeeze her other breast. But I wanted more, and it was obvious Jennifer did as well; she was gently moaning and begging me not to stop. "This is so good," she cooed. "I continued the routine, permitting her to open her legs farther and farther. Her labia were wet with my saliva. Her pussy began to spread open, initially revealing her clitoris that was now swollen and a dark purple and then the labia began to separate. As her legs were already spreading apart, both of us, apparently thinking the same thing, shifted our positions on the chaise. I laid down flat on my stomach and moved both of my arms underneath her legs, and she moved into a spread eagle position, baring everything to me. Her labia were fully parted, revealing a fully swollen clitoris and vagina glistening in its emerging juices. "Wow, this is a sight to see," I remarked. "This is indeed a sumptuous garden. I am not sure where to start. "Well, 'Mr. Expert Navigator', I am sure you can figure it out," she kidded. "Let me give you a hint. There is only one route to the final destination." With the bantering reaching a dénouement, I turned my head and began gently kissing and running my tongue along the inside of her leg. The musky smell of her pussy was pulling me towards it, but I wanted to prolong the moment. I glanced up at Jennifer to observe her reaction. She was no longer watching me, but rather she had closed her eyes and was soaking in the physical attention. One of Jennifer's hands enshrouded a breast, lightly stroking the nipple. Her other hand was cradling my head, and she was tussling her fingers through my hair while trying to guide my oral stimulation closer to the desired destination. My shoulders were pushing against both of her inner thighs, helping to keep her sex fully exposed. I allowed one hand to drift up to her unattended breast and began fondling it. My other hand I hooked around to her bush and began stroking her clitoris while riffling through her pubic hair. Jennifer found all of this attention arousing; she started to arch her back, stretching the muscles that extended through her breasts and forcing her pussy to open further. I moved my attention from her inner thigh to her clitoris, initially gently running my tongue around and over it. "Please eat me," Jennifer begged. After teasingly pulling on her hairy bush, I placed my mouth around her clitoris, sucking and licking at the same time. Her pussy was too tempting at this point, and I began extending my tongue into its crevice and licking up to her clitoris. This caused Jennifer to exhale, and I could tell that the pace of her breathing was increasing. I then brought both hands down to her pussy and softly pulled her lips apart to provide full oral access, shifting stimulation of the clitoris to two fingers while using the remaining fingers to fondle both sides of her labia. I paused for a few seconds, looking up to see what Jennifer was doing. I found her peering down at me, and she sensually whispered the words, "You're so good." This was all the encouragement that I needed, and I pulled her pussy into my waiting lips and tongue. As her pussy was already infused with her juices, I began by sucking on it. With my nose brushing up and down on her clitoris, it was enmeshed in her lubrication, which retained its musky smell but also emitted a tangy scent. Between sucking and licking, I muttered "You taste so good," begging her to open her sex wider. Jennifer's hips began to buck in concert with my licking and sucking. My tongue had found her vagina and I was using it to extract her sweat nectar, sucking and swallowing it in one motion. Her breathing was much heavier now, and her moaning could no longer be described as soft. The hand she had used to tussle through my hair was cupped around the back of my head shoving my mouth deeper and deeper into the inner walls of her pussy. I wasn't certain if she reached initial orgasm, but she slowed the thrusting of her hips and told me between gasps that her pussy needed something longer than my tongue in it. "But I don't want some half-erect cock in me," she teased. "Let me see what I can do about that. Switch positions." I rolled over onto my back and she turned around, flipping her leg over my head, so that we were in a 69 position. I was now looking up at her pussy, which was a dark purple and glistened with saliva and her lubrication, and she was looking down at my cock. Lowering herself onto my awaiting mouth and tongue, she took my cock in her hand and pulled its head into her mouth, placing her teeth around its outer rim while using her tongue to caress it. She gently tugged at it, with her teeth serving as the lock. With each tug, it regained an inch or two of its original erection. A Lunchtime Tryst Positioning on Jennifer's pussy was now reversed. Rather than rubbing against her clitoris, my nose was situated directly in her pussy canal. As she pressed and spread her pussy against my mouth, my nose sank deeper and deeper into it, with my tongue behind it. My nose was now stimulating her vaginal g-spot. I sought to ask Jennifer if I was positioned correctly, but I was unable to speak due to her pussy being spread across it. She was no longer sucking on my cock but had outstretched both arms and was at a 45-degree angle, enabling her to stretch her pussy to its maximum potential. Jennifer began to move her hips up and down in unison with the thrusting of my sucking and probing. Her pussy had opened and stretched around my nose and mouth, both of which were sunk into it by two or three inches, and I was certain that my nose was nestled against G-spot. Jennifer's breathing had become short and labored, moaning as she fucked my mouth, nose, and tongue. "This is unbelievable," she muttered. "I have never reached this level of orgasm before. Don't dare stop!" Her vagina began to spasm, convulsing—opening and closing—around my face, and her juices began to gush out. There was so much cum that the juices were sloshing inside of her and against my mouth and face, a sound that was unbelievable. I sucked and swallowed furiously, savoring the taste and smell of her sex. With a climax achieved, her breathing slowed and she lowered herself back onto my cock, wrapping her mouth around the shaft and slowing sucking up and down on it. She stopped sucking and spun around and leaned down to kiss me, her pussy positioned on top of my fully erect cock, pushing it down onto my stomach. "I want to taste myself in your mouth," she stated, asking "Do I taste good?" "I guess you'll need to find out," I joked, as she closed her mouth around mine and extended her tongue to retrieve some. After a kiss that seemed to last forever, she released, reporting that it was just as I had indicated. "No wonder men like to eat pussy so much," she mocked. Chapter Seven: Entering the Garden Jennifer's pussy was still soaked with her orgasmic juices. Pressing down on my shaft, the juices were being squeezed out as she slowly, and gently, rotated her hips, and I could feel the liquid running down the backside of my testicles, across my scrotum, and pooling around my asshole. She had pinned both of my arms about my head and had my hands locked in hers. The hair under each of her arms was visible, a sight that I found very sensual. She ceased kissing me, moving into a partial sitting position, her legs straddled mine. Jennifer's pussy was spread wide open, and her labia wrapped around the topside of my two balls, drenching them in her juices. She released my arms, moving both of hers to my nipples and began to fondle and pinch them. My hands nestled on either side of her waist, ready to help lift her hips and pussy onto my shaft. I glanced down at our two intertwined sexes; pre-cum shimmered on the head of my shaft. Her pussy was stretched open, revealing a purple, swollen clitoris and the glistening, inner walls of her vagina. "I want you inside me," Jennifer said, moving her pussy up and down along my shaft—from my balls to the head of my cock. She was paying close attention, however, to ensure that I didn't penetrate her yet. Just as the head of my cock would disappear into her pussy opening, and I could feel her vagina beginning to expand to accommodate its girth, she would slide back down the shaft, stretching her sex back out across my testicles, remaining there while slowing rotating her hips and then sliding back to the tip of my head again. "I desperately want you," I told her. "But I am not sure that I want you any longer," she kidded, flashing a mischievous smile at me. Pre-cum was quickly seeping out of the tip of my cock, and I was becoming worried that I would cum before even entering Jennifer. It was very obvious that she was enjoying this scene, and that it was reawakening her pussy. The juices were quickly beginning to flow again from her vagina, as the wetness of her opening increased every time she slid back down onto my eagerly awaiting testicles. Finally, and it had felt like hours, she lifted her hips, grabbing my shaft with one hand, and positioned her pussy over the head of my cock. As she descended upon it I heard her release a short gasp when the head began to penetrate. Her juices coursed around my head, and I felt her vagina expand, allowing my cock to push beyond the rim of her sex. Jennifer slowly sank down farther and farther onto my throbbing cock, eventually taking nearly its full length but then as almost a reflex, sliding back up the shaft a few inches. We were staring into each other's eyes, my hands on either side of her hips and her hands resting on top of my chest. "I am not used to a cock that is quite as wide as yours," Jennifer said. "My pussy needs to get to know it." The muscles in her pussy were constricting and releasing their grip on my cock as slowly moved up and down it a few inches at a time. Recognizing that she was still acclimating to having me inside her, I largely refrained from reciprocating her movements. Her pace began to quicken after a minute or two, and she now was descending all of the way to the bottom of the shaft each time. She was faintly grunting her pleasure each time she came down. Now with my eyes closed and revering in the moment, I was matching her with moans of utter rapture. Jennifer shifted her position, sitting upright and placing one hand on her thigh while using the other to spread her pussy open, exposing the meshing of our two sexes, and began to rub her clitoris. I hands ascended to both of her breasts, and I began fondling them. This provided her with added pleasure, as my touch evinced louder sighs of pleasure as she rocked back and forth on my shaft that was now shoved all of the way to its hilt inside her. With this new position, she changed her motion, rubbing her swollen pussy so that it enveloped a portion of my testicles. Her juices were gathering around the base of my shaft and dripping down the underside of scrotum and into my crack. The sloshing of her cum returned at this point, their copious flow too much for her pussy to contain. Every time she moved back onto my cock, her pussy squeezed out more juices and emitted an erotic slosh. Seeking deeper penetration, Jennifer leaned back, resting both hands on my thighs, further exposing the in-and-out interaction of her pussy and my cock. She returned to stimulating her clitoris with one hand and reached around and underneath our intertwined sexes and began to massage my scrotum. She had switched to a new motion, slowly rotating her hips. I was mirroring the action, lifting my ass slightly off the chaise to provide Jennifer's pussy with full access to my sex while following the movement of her hips with my own. I had moved both of my hands to the sides of her hips, and was using them to aid our hips in their around-the-world journey and to ensure that her pussy was tightly latched to my cock. This was exhilarating and orgasm was not far away for me. Jennifer shifted her position again, reclining forward and placing her hands on my chest again. She did not return to the previous up-and-down motion, but rather kept her sex pushed down on mine and began to contract and release her vaginal muscles. My cock responded immediately, and I began to thrust my hips into her by lifting my ass off the chaise a few inches, holding the position for a couple seconds, and then releasing again. Soon, the two of us were working in complete unison, both the physical motion of our two sexes as well as our moans and gasps. I am not sure if Jennifer or I came first; it seemed that both of us did so at the same time. I could tell that she had reached a dénouement, as her thrusting slowed but grew in intensity; she shoved her hips and pussy onto my cock with ounce of strength that she had remaining. The force of her moans and groans also increased. When her climax was reached, she and when the climax was reached, she cried out "Oh God!" My thrusts became more forceful with each of Jennifer's, and my breathing quickened, almost reaching a pant. Jennifer's body glistened from the exertion, as beads of sweat rolled down her face and collected on the tips of her nipples and dropped onto my chest. My face was flushed and sweat rolled down the sides of my face. I suddenly felt myself begin to cum just as Jennifer climaxed, with my cock convulsing five, six, seven times, shooting more and more cum in each instance into the depths of Jennifer's pussy. Jennifer collapsed onto my chest, and our two mouths found each other. Our lips and mouths, latched together, moved back and forth as our sweaty and heated bodies remained compressed, my semi-erect cock still inside her sex, her contracting pussy muscles slowly compressing and then releasing themselves around it. Our intermingled cum began to run down the backside of my swollen testicles. Cooling to the temperature of the air, the juices created tingling sensation as they ran down the pathway of my scrotum. "That was absolutely mind-blowing," Jennifer whispered. "But we're not done yet." With that declaration, she dismounted and swiveled 180 degrees, placing her drenched pussy directly above my mouth and her mouth parallel with my sex. Chapter Eight: In the Afterglow As Jennifer climbed over me, our amalgamation of sex dripped onto my face and mouth. The fusion radiated a heavier smell, one that was mixed with sweat, than when each release was inhaled on its own. I brought a free hand up to the side of my face, pushing the glob of fallen nectar into my mouth. My cum was a heavier density than Jennifer's juices, and as I twirled the mixture on my tongue, I could distinguish it from hers. Just as the two mixed to produce an alluring fragrance, they also combined to create a musky, tangy, salty taste. I peered up into her sex, which was a dark purple and swollen from orgasm. The vagina walls were still contracting and releasing; each time her muscles released, her vagina hole opened, revealing the cum that I had just shot into it. As she lowered her outstretched pussy onto my mouth, drops of cum fell into my awaiting mouth. And as she pressed her swollen sex against my face, I began to suck, gently at first and eventually with growing force. I had placed both of my hands on the lower sides of her ass and used them to spread her pussy farther apart. At the same time, I used allowed one hand to meander down to her puckered asshole, gentling massaging it with a combination of our cum and sweat. I was drinking deeply, swallowing every few seconds as the mixture of our cum flowed into my awaiting mouth. At the same time, Jennifer had descended again onto my half-erect cock. She had one hand around it to keep it upright and was using the other one to stimulate my scrotum. She took all of it into her mouth, pushing her mouth down to the base of my shaft and beginning to suck the remaining cum from its exterior as well as that which was still trapped inside me. After sucking my cock clean, Jennifer swiveled 180 degrees again, pressing her pussy and breasts into me while enclosing her mouth around mine. "This has been the most amazing experience I've ever had," I told her between kisses. "Well, I've had a few experiences that were better," she teased, laughing as she spoke. She then stretched out, grasping both of my hands and pushing our arms to the side, laying her head on my chest, to bask in the afterglow of our impassioned love-making. After a few minutes, she crawled up onto her elbows, looked me in the eyes, and asked, "So what are you doing tomorrow for lunch?"