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Gardener

By: HarryOrwell



Her stylish red glasses had slid down her nose, and she tilted her head back to peer at me, after reading my note.

"Mrs. Leach recommends you very highly, and I respect her opinion, but I may be more demanding when it comes to my yard than she is." 

She stepped off her kitchen stool and walked to the sliding glass doors which led to her sprawling garden, with pool, and flower beds, once finely manicured, now shabby from non-maintenance.

Her long legs caught my eye, I was surprised she was so tall, about 5'10. She turned dramatically.

"Since Henry left, things have gotten shoddy. His replacement is a slob! He shows up and runs engines and motors, and it's as if he did nothing!"

She was angry, and I didn't blame her. From what I had been told by Mrs. Leach, this lady was paying top dollar and getting hosed. The guy had a reputation of blustering about, intimidating employers, although I couldn't picture Mrs. Jenkins being intimidated by anyone. 

She had a persona that shouted, "I'm in charge," and it seemed she wouldn't back down from Satan, himself. 

There was a rumble of a truck in the driveway, and she shuddered. "That would be him, again. I told him he was through on the phone, but he said he was coming over. Excuse me."

He was a big man, slovenly, maybe 45, over 6 foot and 275 at least. I could see how he could intimidate women, the way he glared at her.

She met him at the gate, and she held that head high on her long neck, not giving any ground but he was visibly upset. 

"We had a deal!" he barked.

"The deal was that you maintain my property. Look at it! It's a mess!" waving her arm for effect.

"I do what I do!"

Well, it's not good enough."

He seemed ready to grab her and I stepped out the door. "Is there a problem?"

He glared at me. "Who are you?"

"I'm Mrs. Jenkins' brother, former police officer John Walker. Is there a problem here?"

He looked my six foot frame up and down. He may be able to take me, but as a former cop, who knew if I had a gun? Or special training? Or friends on the force if it came to that?

She looked back at me, eyes wide.

"We had a deal," He said, more civilly.

"But no contract, remember?" she injected.

I stepped up next to her. "No offense, buddy, but look at those edges! All over-grown. My sister is very picky about her garden, always has been. Why, I remember.... oh, never mind. Suffice it to say, you should take this as a learning experience and use it at future employment. Follow me?"

He just glared.

"Now, if there's nothing else," I draped my arm around her shoulder, casually, and she stiffened. "We'd like to get back to our coffee. Now that we're gonna be neighbors again, I'm sure we'll spend a lot more time together, right Sis?"

I squeezed her shoulder and she forced a smile. "Yes, right...John."

He shrugged his shoulders, said, "Just as well, I wasn't charging you enough for all the time I spent here."

Before she could say anything, I jumped in. "well, then it worked out well for both of you. Have a good day." I led her away and she kept looking back as he climbed in the truck and backed out.

When he was out of sight, I let her go, and she spun, glaring at me.

"That was none of your business!"

"I know."

"I could have handled it myself."

"I'm sure, but if he would have laid a hand on you, I would have had to hurt him. Then I really would have been involved. What's the big deal? You were firing him anyway."

"Because I don't need some gardener to look out for me."

"Jeez, Lady, all I did was mediate an argument. No harm done. Is it because I touched you? I showered this morning."

"And where did you come up with "sister?" 

"Do you think he would have listened if I said I was the guy who was looking for his job?"

She stared.

"I didn't think so, either. Look, I didn't expect to get the job because of what I did. I just hoped to defuse a problem before it got larger. I'll take my letter back and be gone."

"Wait."

I stopped and turned, both of us on her porch. She seemed less sure of herself, hating her vulnerability.

"I...I'm sorry. Thank you. I was hot for an argument and so was he. Thanks for stepping in." Then she smiled, "But 'Sister'? More like mother! Or at least Aunt."

That was probably true, since she was twenty years older than me, I figured. But I still needed a job, so I said, "He never would have believed that you would allow your child to be as grubby as I look. A brother, maybe!"

She smiled, then seemed to feel she had smiled too much. "Okay, let's start over. Do you still want the job?" I nodded. "At the same rate as Mrs. Leach?" Now she was negotiating, back where she felt comfortable.

"Your yard is bigger."

"And more open, easier to mow."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not good at this. Okay, are Fridays okay with you?"

She smiled, having won again. "Not too early, I like to sleep late."

I can play this game too. "It can't be for beauty sleep: You're perfect already."

She smirked at that. "Don't spread it on too thick, John. Like fertilizer, it's just so much shit, after all."

On Friday, I backed my truck into her driveway. The garage door opened, and a BMW zipped out, her horn honking like a pit bull. 

I pulled back out, she followed and parked at the curb.

"I thought you weren't coming!"

"It's 10 O'clock. You said..."

"I didn't mean this late!"

"I'll be here at 8AM if you want."

"I'm late," she spun and slid back behind the wheel, kicking up gravel as she left.

It was a nice day, I went to work, cleaning the flower beds, mowing, edging, cleaning up, and she returned three hours later.

"Still at it?"

Covered in dirt, sweat and grass shavings, I turned to look at her. Her appointment was obviously at a beauty salon. Her hair was up in a Scrunchie that first day, but now, it was down and blown out, auburn with blond highlights, shoulder-length. 

She stood with the sun at her back and her hair haloed around her. As my eyes adjusted, her eyes became clearer. They were done up, too. Mascara, thick eye lashes. The red glasses only magnified the green orbs. 

Wiping my hands as I stood, I said, "Yeah, almost done. Got a date tonight?"

She seemed taken aback. "Why do you say that?"

"Your hair, your makeup, you look terrific."

She smiled, almost embarrassed. "Oh, thank you. He look pretty spiffy yourself!"

I looked down, dirty cut-off jeans, tee shirt off and covered in sweat. I smiled. "Yes, I do! Thanks for noticing. I have a pressing engagement with a very large, very cold bottle of Bud in about an hour!"

"You look like you need it. Excuse me." Her cell phone was ringing. She stepped away, "Yes? Oh hi honey..." 

I loaded the truck, waited, hoping I'd get paid before I left.

"But... We were...I know! I know! Fine, yes, have a safe trip, yes, okay." She slid the phone back in her Coach bag that was probably worth more than my truck. She looked me as if she couldn't focus. Her eyes were welling up.

"You okay?"

"Huh? Um, yes, fine, can I write you a check?"

"Sure, make it out to cash, if you can."

"Come to the house when you're done." She turned and walked away, and I wanted to console her, but this time I really would be overstepping my boundaries.

I cleaned up, even taking off my shoes and hosing myself down, to get clean enough to sit on a bar stool and not offend the other customers. I had a towel and brush in the truck, along with deodorant and a clean shirt and shorts, which I changed discreetly behind the shed. 

It was close to an hour before I tapped on the glass door. I got no response, so I opened the door and yelled through the screen, "Hello? Mrs. Jenkins? It's me, John!" 

"In here!" I heard her shout.

I followed her voice. She was in the den, sitting at the bar, a cocktail in her hand. She smiled. "Your talk about that beer made me thirsty. Cosmos are my weakness."

I smiled. Her legs were crossed. She had a track suit, red, which seemed to match her glasses and red flip-flops. Her long legs were crossed and she toyed with her drink with her long red-nailed fingers. 

I approached and she had the check already written. 

"And look at you! All cleaned up and ready for a wild Friday night!"

I smiled. "I don't know how wild. I'll probably be in bed by ten. I'm a bit achy."

"I can imagine. I love to sit in the whirlpool after a good workout!"

"Well, my whirlpool consists of an old claw-foot tub blowing bubbles!"

She sipped her Cosmo, watching me with those eyes. "Hmm, you should try it sometime. There's a bucket behind the bar with some Budweisers on ice, if you'd care to join me...in a beer I mean! Not a whirlpool!" We both laughed, her from nerves, I imagine, at her faux pas.

"I'd kill for one, thanks."

I went behind the bar, grabbed a long-neck and twisted off the top. Ice clung to the sides, like a commercial, and before she could offer me a glass, I downed a third in two gulps.

She watched, her eyes sharp. The red top of the running suit zippered down the front, and showed just enough cleavage for my eyes to target it.

"So, what time's your date tonight?" I asked, breaking the silence.

She looked down at her glass. "He, we had to cancel. My husband... a business trip, to Florida. That's what he says."

I didn't touch that one, but she went on.

"He does a lot of business down there lately. And since he's in meetings all weekend, I can't join him...he says."

"He must have a big job."

"Yes, he does... he has people who used to do these trips, but the Florida one, he does himself for the last year. He says it's a very important account. I asked him the name of the company. He was so hesitant. When I checked on line, there's no such company listed." Her eyes were deep in the glass, speaking without emotion, reciting some lost poem from memory.

"I'm sorry..." I injected. It seemed to snap her from her trance.

"Oh, yes, thank you. I've accepted that I'm not as young or pretty as I once was. And he's still got needs, he's handsome, rich, and women throw themselves at him."

She was talking to me again, not the glass. "I never asked but I know she lives in Miami, and he spends more weekends with her than me now. I just hoped for our time together to be good. This weekend especially, our anniversary. And he's off humping someone younger, prettier."

I finished off the beer and she had me pour another Cosmo from the pitcher. I said, "She may be younger, you can't control that. But I doubt that she's prettier, and no way is she classier. And honestly, you look terrific, better today in fact than when I first met you."

She smiled. "For someone my age, you mean."

"I didn't say that because I didn't mean that. You must feel how guys look at you. I'm sure you turn heads where ever you go."

"Turn their heads away, you mean."

"See? There you go again. I know what I mean, and if you want encouragement to wallow in self-pity, you don't need my endorsement. I'll just take my pay and be going. But you gotta lighten up on yourself. Let people in. Not everyone, but maybe girl friends? Somebody. If your life sucks that much, change it. You're definitely strong enough on the outside, how about inside?"

She was looking down her nose at me again. Who was I to be so blunt, her long neck stretched regally.

"I'll be going," I said.

"No, please, stay. Have another. I like you, John, you don't take any shit but you aren't arrogant about it. I need to learn that balance."

"Thanks, I think I will." I popped another cold one.

She sipped her Cosmo, thinking. "So, is there a Mrs. John Walker?"

I smiled. "That's not really my name, its my favorite Scotch, Johnnie Walker Black!"

"Oh, very good! But you are John?"

"Yes, and I have no idea your first name."

She reached her hand out to me and I took it.

"Janet."

"Hi, Janet." I held her hand and looked closer at her. How old was she? Hard to tell, but 45 at least, maybe older. 

"John, how old do you think I am, and be honest."

I smiled again, still holding her hand. "Honestly I was just thinking the same thing. Let's see, I would guess early forties." 

"Thank you, I wish my husband thought so."

"So, now I have to know, how old?"

"You're off by a decade or so, but thanks, it does my self-esteem wonders!"

"No way you are in your fifties," Stroking her ego, but still surprised.

"I'm 56, next May."

"Wow! You look..." looking her up and down, stopping again at that zipper, feeling her hand tighten in mine, obviously enjoying my compliments.

I thought, then said, "When I met you last week, I thought you tried real hard to be a Bitch. I think that's a defense mechanism for you. But even then, I thought you were hot, and the way you looked down your glasses at me, I felt like I was with my first grade teacher who I had a huge crush on."

She seemed thrilled with that. "And now?"

"It's like I met that teacher twenty years later and could see the real person she was, and I still have the crush on her."

"Why, John!", playing with me. "You've grown so much since First Grade!" Putting on a hoity toity lilt to her voice. "Look at how big you've gotten?" squeezing my hand. "And you came back to visit me at the Old Folks Home!" 

I can play, too. "Oh, Miss Prince, you haven't changed a bit, still 29, as lovely as ever. You broke my heart when you came back from Spring break as Mrs. Jenkins!"

She smiled, standing and touched my cheek. "I got rid of that stiff, and hoped you'd come back some day!" smiling gaily.

I moved in tight. "I'm sure he didn't deserve you."

The Cosmos twinkled in her eyes as she became more a part of the role. "John, you were always the one."

I played along, feeling myself drawn to this hard woman with the soft interior. My hand went to her hips and pulled her body to mine, We stood eye to eye. "I've wanted this since I was five years old." I tilted my head and kissed her.

She seemed startled, then almost relieved, looking hungrily into my eyes. "John, you play this too well."

I stared for a second, not letting her go. "Should we stop?"

Her arms were around my neck now. "I don't think I want to, but our ages..."

"What about them?" I kissed her again and she kissed back, a deep soul kiss, our tongues slowly dancing.

Her fingers were in my hair as she whispered my name and my hands held her close, one moving down to her ass, and getting a good hold then grinding against her.

She moaned as she ground into my growing cock. I wondered if she had been with another man in a while, and how often the husband had satisfied her. She seemed hungry for it and I was, too.

I felt her tits through her red top, and her breath became more shallow. I felt for the zipper and slipped it down in one move. Her long neck bent for my kisses as I slid the top free, and she wore a red bra, lacy, not for running. I cupped one tit and felt her hard nipple and tasted her lips as my fingers teased her.

She was working on my cut-offs, first stroking my cock through the jeans, then opening them, her long fingers wrapping around the shaft, stroking it as I thrust my shorts down.

I had her bra off as she led me to the large couch. "Over here," she whispered, sliding her own pants and panties down as we moved. She pushed me back, taking off her glasses as she looked at my 6 inches, throbbing. She smiled, "I like to be in charge."

"It's your class," I replied, and lay back for her to kneel, and stroke my cock. "Oh, John," in her teacher voice, "Look how you've grown!"

She kissed the tip, then licked it. I'm sure I smelled musky from the sweaty day, and it seemed to spur her on more. She licked and sucked, being careful not to bring me too far.

Now she stood, and I saw she was shaved, and I thought she had done this today for her husband, along with the salon visit, and I was reaping all the rewards.

She stepped over me, one foot on the couch as she spread her lips, and I could see her wetness. I reached up and she swatted my hand, playfully. "No touching, Mr. Walker!"

With one hand holding my cock, she lowered herself, finding her hole with my tip, and using my cock as a dildo to tease herself, making me crazy for her. Never did I think I would be this hot for a woman older than my mother.

After totally smearing her juices on my head, she lowered herself onto me as her eyes fluttered. She settled onto it, and gave a sigh, then opened her eyes again, saying, "You don't know how long..."

She leaned forward and kissed me, and her tongue played with mine as she slowly moved up and down my shaft. Between kisses, she offered whispered how good it felt, asking me if I enjoyed it. I could barely grunt "yes" as she smothered my mouth again.

She sat back up and I could feel her muscles tighten around my cock. 

"Oh, God, you are killing me! It's been so long!"

I began moving my hips with her, allowing my full length to ride back, then forward. She grunted and groaned, biting her lip as she rode me.

I could feel myself welling but before I could reach it, she shuddered, and her head dropped then she howled, "ugggghhhhhh! Ahhhhhhh"

She had come and now was on a mission, humping faster, bringing me to the brink again, her voice spurring me on. "Yeah, fuck me, baby, fuck me, yeah!"

I shot and she felt the final thrust and gave out a wail, her own body as tense as mine, and I released into her love canal, and she moved in a whirl, mixing her hips around my cock.

I laid there, her weight fully on me, and she did not move, only breathed. Then she kissed my neck. She giggled like a little girl and said, "You know, I just remembered I had a crush on my French teacher! Do you know French?"

"Oui, oui!"

Gardener's Eyeful



At forty years old, Steve Archer thought of himself as being over the hill. This was not entirely incorrect because he had run into a series of setbacks, such as losing his job and getting dumped by his wife and his future was far from bright. He had found another job, working for a gardening contractor and tending to some of the big estates near where he used to live but the money was only a small fraction of what he had been earning a few years earlier. 

However, there were some unexpected fringe benefits to his new job. Many of the rich men who were his clients had younger wives whom they could not or would not satisfy sexually and these women would turn to the nearest man to take care of their needs. Sometimes that man was Steve and, being as horny as they were, the women provided some of the greatest sex he had ever known. Even when they had no interest in cheating on their husbands, they liked to swim and sunbathe in the nude and, when they did, they provided him with the most delightful visual benefits. 

When Steve was really lucky, they did both. One of the most memorable times was an accidental encounter with Michiko Brown, the wife of a retired Air Force major who had gone on to become the president of a highly successful regional chain of stores. Michiko and her husband had met ten years earlier when he was nearing retirement age and she was 25 years old and working as a hostess in a bar next to the base in Japan where he was stationed. 

She was also a part-time prostitute, frequently taking bar patrons home after closing time and, for a price, tending to their sexual needs. She loved this part of the job because her needs were probably greater than that of most of her clients so they were being taken care of and Michiko was getting paid for their mutual pleasure. The major was one of her favorites, not because he gave her the greatest sexual time, but because he was a widower who made good money and liked to spend it on her. Shortly before he was to return stateside and retire, he asked her to marry him and she saw this as a chance to live a dream she had even before becoming a hostess. 

However, like most dreams, there was a big drawback. In Japan, the major's sexual abilities had been barely adequate for Michiko and, ten years later, with him nearly impotent and her hornier than ever, they didn't even come close. Masturbation helped some but not enough, especially because she was not getting her pussy eaten, something she had learned to love having done by her bar clients. 

As luck would have it, one of Michiko's horniest days happened to coincide with Steve working on her garden. She liked to bathe in a certain bathroom and that was what she was doing that morning. Right next to the tub was a big picture window that looked out onto a thick patch of shrubbery. The window was equipped with blinds but these were not usually used because the tub was hidden by the thick stand of plants. Michiko could soak there or masturbate and not worry about being seen and, even if somebody happened to look in, she was enough of an exhibitionist to let him or her get a good eyeful. 

On that day, Steve was the person getting the good eyeful. When he came to work that morning, the major had instructed him to thin that particular patch so more natural light would illuminate the bathroom. With his clippers and rake, the gardener started on one end of the row of plants and set to work. Just as he began trimming the second of the shrubs, he saw a sudden flash of pale skin through a window he hadn't even noticed was there. Seconds later, he saw much more than that, because the lady of the house finished removing her robe and stepped into the tub she had just partially filled. 

It wasn't filled all the way because Michiko had something she liked doing in her tub besides bathing. She slid her needy body under the tap and turned on a hard stream of warm water to pour down onto her swollen clit, while one hand fondled her pussy lips and the other tweaked her erect nipples. It felt good and, after a minute, she was able to feel pleasure coursing between those three points. The horny housewife sighed, but partly in frustration because what she was feeling was a pale imitation of what a tongue and a man's hands would have done for her. 

Steve was feeling some frustration too. He had seen the sexily plump woman toss her robe aside and had admired the way her breasts swayed. However, once she was in the tub, he didn't have much of a view of anything. He could see and hear the water was running and could guess what that was for. He was able to see movements of her arms and was sure she was playing with her big breasts but he couldn't see any actual contact. 

"Damn," he muttered to himself. "I gotta get closer and get a better look." 

Trying to move quickly and quietly, Steve crept toward a particularly bushy plant, confident he could crouch behind it and be unseen but get a better look at the woman while she played with herself. When he reached this shelter, he stared raptly at the clit being stimulated and the nipples being tweaked. His cock stiffened at the erotic sight but he decided against masturbating until the sexy woman's bath was through. He would just enjoy the sight until then. 

Almost bored with what she was doing, Michiko happened to glance out the window just as the man there changed his position. Knowing there was a man watching her, she smiled to herself and continued with her play. Masturbating by herself was better than nothing but the same stroking and fondling while being watched was a far bigger turn-on. 

But not big enough. Michiko wanted and needed more and she knew what was inside the man's pants and mouth could give it to her. However, she wanted to avoid scaring him away by confronting him through the window, nor did she want to him to get bored and leave if she got out of the tub and walked away. She needed to do something so she chose what she considered the best way to keep the man interested and hoping for more. 

Slowly, she climbed out of the tub and, with her legs spread, bent over to select a bath towel from the lower shelf of the rattan caddy, providing the unknown man with the best view she could of her shapely ass. Michiko dried her legs and hips, then turned to face the window while she finished her toweling. While reaching back to dry her shoulders and lower back, she stood with her chest thrust out, giving the best view possible to the man who was only a few feet away. After drying that part of her body, she finished with her arms, hung up the towel and walked away, leaving her robe. She hoped the unknown man would see that and stay where he was in hopes of her returning. 

Things worked out just as she wanted. After donning a different robe, one that was in a guest room next to her favorite bathtub, she left the house by the small side door and walked the few feet to the stand of shrubs and bushes where Michiko hoped the man would still be waiting to see more. 

He was. "Hey!" she announced. "What are you doing?" 

Caught! Steve decided to act innocent in hopes he could brazen it out. "I'm just trimming these bushes, like your husband said to do. Just taking care of these bushes." 

"These are the wrong bushes. That one in front of you isn't the one that needs your attention." Michiko eyed the swelling in the man's crotch and continued. "This is the bush you should be taking care of," she informed him while she grinned lewdly and opened the front of her robe, giving him the best view yet of her sexy, pale body. 

While Steve gawked, the object of his desire stepped forward, grabbed him by the front of his pants and started to lead him toward the door she had just exited, which was still ajar. "Your name is Steve, isn't it?" she asked while leading him. When he nodded his head, she said "My name is Michiko." 

Through the door and to the guest room she led him before she stopped beside the bed. "Are you ready to get to work on the bush that needs it?" she asked him, with a lascivious grin on her face. Without waiting for an answer, Michiko lay on her back with her legs spread and head nestled in a pillow. 

Without hesitation, Steve followed her, kneeling between her legs and gazing raptly at the lovely pussy before him. But by now, being eyeballed wasn't even close to being enough for the horny woman. 

"Well, are you gonna just look at it," she chided him. "Or are you gonna get your face in there where it belongs?" To encourage the latter, she raised her legs for him. 

Eagerly, Steve ducked under the shapely limbs and wrapped his arms under Michiko's thighs, lowering his face to just inches from the bush he was going to be servicing. The running water in the tub had washed away the pussy juices as they were produced but they had already been replaced by fresher nectar in anticipation of what she was then expecting to have happen. He breathed in the delectable fragrance and started to discover for himself that her juices tasted even better than they smelled. 

The fresh nectar didn't stay there very long. Steve greedily licked the delicious treat from the insides of Michiko's thighs and from her crotch, bringing his tongue all the way up her pink slit to be sure to get it all. He raised his head and grinned at the way her sexy body was already squirming in pleasure and returned to start licking one of her lush outer lips. 

"Oooh, yeah, that's what I like," she murmured softly. 

Michiko said nothing else intelligible because she had no wish to start any kind of conversation with the man whose head was between her legs. Talking would have been a waste of time for him for there was something much better for both of them that he could be doing with his mouth. She placed her hands on her breasts, partly so she could tweak her rigid nipples and add to her sexual joy and partly to watch the progress of the man's head as it moved slowly up the side of her pussy. 

Everywhere that head traveled, bolts of delight shot through her body in its wake until Michiko's clit formed the familiar three-way connection with her nipples. Currents of pleasure coursed through her body and she let the man know he was pleasing her. 

"That's the way, Steve! Keep working on that bush." 

He smiled, but only inwardly. His mouth was too busy giving himself and the lady intense pleasure to do anything else. Moving slowly because he knew there was no hurry, his tongue traveled up that first lip. The woman's husband would be gone all day and his supervisor never checked on him so they had hours in which to enjoy themselves. 

And that's what they were doing. Michiko watched the gardener's head as it slowly meandered is way up her pussy, radiating waves of exquisite pleasure in its wake. Involuntarily, her body started writhing and her pussy fucked up against the face between her legs. Besides her movements, she let him know verbally how great it felt. 

"Ooooo, yeah, that feels so good. Keep doing that. Yeah! Yeah! Lick me there," She urged him when Steve's tongue reached her swollen clit. 

He did, but only for a few strokes of his tongue. From there, his mouth kept traveling up to her Mount of Venus, where he kissed her before licking off her fresh juices and starting to caress her other outer lip with his tongue. Although slightly disappointed that he had almost skipped her clit, Michiko murmured in bliss, nestled her head in her pillow and let the currents of joy sweep through her body. 

Those currents were emanating from where the gardener was eating her pussy. She had been eaten like that at least a thousand times by bar patrons in Japan and Michiko had come almost every time but none of them had given her as much fun as the man whose head was between her thighs that day. She could feel her climax mounting and knew it would be a thunderous one, one of her best. Her body was pitching and tossing under the man's face and her pussy was ramming against his mouth but he clung to her legs and continued licking until he had reached her mons again. 

Once again Steve feasted on the wealth of juices that had been produced. "This is some great pussy," he told himself. "And she's almost ready to come." To bring about that glorious event, he placed the tip of his tongue against the edge of the pink hole that had produced what he found so delicious and started to lick slowly upward. 

"Yes! Yes!" Michiko exhorted him. "Keep licking me there!" 

Steve obliged her. He probed his tongue under the lips and against the edge of the pink hole that was steadily producing the nectar. Michiko is very sensitive there and her high level of arousal was sending currents of joy into all parts of her body. She was aware of the touch of the probing tongue under her inner lip and every time the agile giver of joy crossed from one side of her pink hole to the other. 

Finally, she could stand it no longer and grabbed the man's head and moved it to the place it was most needed. "My clit! Suck my clit!" she demanded, and held firmly to his head so he would not be able to move away. 

He had no objection to that. Steve had been enjoying himself so much he had licked the lady's pussy to the point where she needed to come, rather than just wanted to. He wrapped his lips around the swollen morsel and started sucking wile licking the engorged sides and top and was highly gratified at how her movements and her exhortations became even wilder and louder. 

No more than a few seconds after seizing the initiative and Steve's head, a great blast of joy swept through Michiko's body as she started coming. She tightened the grip of her hands and squeezed with her thighs while bouncing up and down on her ass and swinging her legs from side to side. He knew what was happening and clung to her thighs, continued licking her clit and enjoyed the ride. When she climaxed, her back arched and she rammed her pussy into the man's face for a final time. 

After her orgasm, Michiko released her grips and collapsed back onto the bed. Her arms were sprawled at her sides and her legs remained draped over the man's shoulders. Steve greedily licked all the delicious juices from her thighs, belly, lips and everywhere else they had splattered. When he had devoured them all, he backed away and let the lady's legs fall onto the bed but he hoped they were not through with their carnal fun. His cock was rampant and he needed to fuck as badly as he ever had in his life. 

He stripped off his shirt and, before removing his pants, reached into the front pocket and removed a condom. Ever since the first time a horny woman wanted him to fuck he had made sure to be prepared. After removing the wrapper, which Steve put back in the same pocket, he rolled the protection into place and finished undressing, including his shoes and socks. 

By the time he was completely naked, the lady of the house had opened her eyes and saw the stiff cock that was ready for her. She smiled lewdly but said nothing, just raised her arms in welcome. Steve responded by kneeling between her thighs again, this time holding his cock to guide it. Michiko reached down between her legs and spread her pussy lips. He had licked off most of her natural lubricating juices but she was already producing more in anticipation of getting that big, hard dick inside her. 

Steve was at least as eager as his hostess and didn't make her wait any longer than he could help. He leaned forward, supporting his weight on one hand and rubbed the end of his cock against the hole he would soon be stuffing. Michiko squealed in delight at the sensation and continued to hold herself open. With everything ready, Steve made a firm push forward and the head of his cock wedged into the wet pink place where it was so badly wanted. 

"Yes! Right there," Michiko urged him. 

Being as horny as she from eating her delightful pussy, he didn't really need any encouragement. Seconds after the initial penetration, he thrust forward again and over an inch of his hard shaft burrowed its way between Michiko's fingers and into her pussy. She said nothing this time, just sighed happily and let herself start her trip to Paradise. 

The journey continued as the gardener drove his cock more and more deeply into her. Every thrust was met by moans and sighs and other sounds of joy. When his entire shaft was buried inside her and his brown pubic hair was mingling with the bush he was working on so expertly, she spread her legs as far as she could in hopes of getting another fraction of an inch inside her eager pussy. Once again, she raised her arms in an invitation which Steve accepted. He lay full-length atop her with his arms curled under Michiko's shoulders and she wrapped her arms around his body. For almost a minute, they lay like that with waves of intense pleasure sweeping through their bodies. 

When Steve started to move, it was to slowly draw his cock most of the way out of her, pause and start to drive it back into her pussy. When Michiko felt the big shaft surging into her, she flexed her legs and pulled herself forward until their bodies came together with a satisfying "smack" and her juices splattered on them both. She moaned in joy and asked for more. 

"Ooooooo, do that again!" 

Steven was glad to oblige because her pussy was one of the nicest places his cock had ever been. Over and over, he plowed into Michiko and she fucked back to meet every thrust. Her hands were active too, stroking his back as she admired his muscular body. She could feel her excitement mounting and knew her second orgasm of the day would be even better than the first. 

The man who would soon be bringing her to that splendid circumstance didn't worry much about that. He was more concerned that he might come too early because he was also highly aroused from everything that had been happening that day, especially from eating Michiko's juicy pussy. He believed nice guys finish last and that was his goal. He also knew it would be more fun for both Michiko and him if he could control himself well enough to do that. Steve kept fucking slowly and felt her body moving under him.  

As he continued driving his cock in and out of her, the lady's movements became more erratic. Besides thrusting her pussy back to meet him, she started rocking from side to side and back and forth while her hands continued their stroking of his back and sides. Her hips were responding too, swiveling under him and thrusting her legs out and back past him like a pair of pistons.

Michiko knew she was on the verge of coming and badly wanted it to happen. As Steve drew back, she slid down slightly on the bed so his cock would plow into her pussy from a slightly different angle. On the next stroke, his hard shaft raked across her clit both entering and leaving. An extra strong bolt of pleasure crashed through her body and she knew she would climax from just a few more thrusts like that one. 

"Give it to me, Steve. Make me come," she begged him. 

He was more than happy to do what she wanted because the different angle was also having its effect on him. He started plunging his cock into her at a faster pace and her movements, although wild and seemingly uncontrolled, stayed in the same rhythm as his. 

"Oh god!" Michiko cried out as her climax started to overwhelm her. She wrapped her legs even more tightly around Steven's hips and her arms tightened their grip on his back. She stayed with his movements, riding up with him as he drew back and, when he thrust forward, felt his cock drive even more deeply into her. Her hips continued swiveling but her legs did not move so she was tossing his body from side to side. Completely undeterred, Steve kept pounding his cock into the incredible pussy under him. 

Michiko continued in the throes of coming for the next five minutes until her back arched, she rammed her pussy up against Steven's body and howled something joyful in Japanese. Steve didn't understand what she said but he knew she had just reached her orgasm. After that momentous event, Michiko's arms flopped at her sides; her legs loosened their grip on the man above her and she collapsed back onto the bed. 




Gardener's Eyeful



Even while Michiko was coming, Steve felt his climax exploding upward inside his body and out his cock. Even if he had wanted to stop, he couldn't have so he kept pounding his cock in and out of the fabulous pussy under him until he had ejaculated three more times. He was through then and sagged on top of the lady's recumbent body. 

They lay in a tired and happy pile, resting and catching their breaths until his cock softened and slipped out of her pussy. Michiko broke the silence. 

"Steve, you really did a good job on the bush once I told you which one needed to be worked on. I hope you can come back tomorrow and do some more of the same kind of work with it." 

"I'll be back. It was really great working here today, Michiko, and I can see my services are still very much needed." 

They smiled and hugged each other more tightly, thinking about the sexual joy they would be sharing the following day and, hopefully, many times after that.



Gardening



I gave myself a trim after my shower last night, my little garden had become overgrown and tangled, and as I expect you home soon my love I wanted to be sure everything was neat for you. I've not taken everything off as I want you to have the fun of shaving me when you're here, but things had got a little too far out of control, which makes you cross, and I want our first night back together to be full of love, after that I might have to be naughty though.

I gather my little scissors and mirror and wander naked to my bed, where I had spread a towel ready. Water is still dripping from my hair, down my neck and over the swell of my breasts where drops form on the tips of my tight nipples before rolling off and hitting my smooth thighs. My skin feels tingly in the cool of the air after having the hot water pummeling my body for such a long time. I love baking hot showers, I like scrubbing every inch of me to make my skin smooth and red, like I've been spanked all over, and then rubbing the silky shower gel over it, soothing and caressing my skin. I like to feel the soft weight of my breasts in my hands and then run my fingers over my nipples and tweak them. This time I'd been restrained and hadn't used the shower head on my clit when I started getting horny, I had decided to tease myself like you do before allowing myself to cum.

I have to use a mirror when I trim my garden to make sure I get everything neat, but it has the delicious added bonus of being able to watch as I uncover my hidden delights. I sit on my bed with the mirror between my legs and start at the top, clipping away the dark curls, leaving just a short cropped lawn. I work down and soon I'm reaching my favorite part, but before I go near my clit I make myself work down further, trimming all the way down either side and right to the back. Reaching the awkward bits means I have to lift my bottom up, exposing my back hole like a dirty slut begging to be fucked there. My fingers brush across my little rosebud, but that's not the fun I'm going to have tonight. Finally I allow myself to clip away at the bush that's hiding my favorite little button, which by now is throbbing in anticipation.

I brush away the last of the loose hairs and pull my lovely pink lips apart, they're already glistening and wet, and my clit is bright and engorged, just begging me to touch it. I make myself wait though, and just look at it as I tweak and twist my nipples and stroke my skin, touching everywhere but there. 

I love feeling so exposed, I fantasize about being watched as I do this, imagining people admiring my pretty pussy and taking photos of it as I hold it open for all to see.

Soon I have to give in and brush the tip of my clit ever so gently with a finger, before delving down to seek out the source of the wetness that's dribbling out of my hole. I spread my juices all over my expectant pussy lips and clit, going back for more the sight of my fingers sliding inside me turns me on so much and I use my other hand to continue playing with my clit with little circular motions as I watch my fingers explore the inside of my pussy, feeling the wet, warm walls stretch when I push against them and feeling my pussy expand as my fingers push into it.

My clit wants more though so I grab my lovely pink vibrator and turn it on. I choose a low setting to start with and touch the tip to the tip of my now desperate clit. Oh! Its like an electric shock, making me whimper in pleasure as I slide it down so the tip is throbbing just inside me and the shaft is pressed against my clit. I slide it up and down, dipping deeper in to my hot wet hole each time, little by little, all the way in, all the way out, so my clit gets the full thrill of the buzz from the end every time, until I can feel its bent tip deep against the wall of my pussy. I turn it up to get faster, stronger vibrations deep inside me as I rub my clit, she's firm and erect, which makes me think about your cock and how much I'd love to have it in front of me right now.

I'd kiss it and rub my pussy juices all over it but I wouldn't be able to hold off from fucking you for very long. The thought of your beautiful cock sliding into me, stretching me and filling me up almost tips me over the edge and I have to thrust my pink vibrator deep into my pink wet pussy, my finger franticly playing with my clit, imaging that its your cock inside me, pulsing and throbbing as you reach your orgasm. As I come it feels like an explosion going off inside me, echoing through my bones and making my whole body shake.

I lie there for a few minutes enjoying the last involuntary spasms that take me by surprise when I move my fingers lazily across my clit. Eventually I slide my toy out of my spent pussy and admire the creamy sticky mess I have made on it before licking it clean, wishing it was your tongue and fingers and cock I'm tasting my sweet juices on. Finally I put my toy to one side and curl up to go to sleep, drifting off to dreams of having your arms around me once more.



Gardening



After bending over the garden pulling out weeds and tidying up for a few hours on Sunday afternoon, I was reaching for a rake and my back objected strongly. I stood up to my full height and bent either side and felt OK until I leant backwards, or at least attempted to.

I went inside and sat down for a few minutes. I usually enjoy food health and was trying to find a way of getting relief for mild muscle soreness before it became a serious problem. I opened the phone book, looked up massage therapists and found the nearest to be a practitioner in the next suburb. I called him and he gave me directions to reach his studio. I decided to walk the 2 kilometres to try and loosen the stiffness in my back.

On arrival, he showed me to his rooms and I asked 'What should I do?'

He told me the massage would take place on his massage table. I would need to remove my clothes and I could leave them on a piece of furniture he called a valet. 

He asked, 'Would you like a back massage or a full body?'

I asked him, 'What does a full body massage involve?'

He said 'We begin with a massage on your back, your legs including your buttocks, Then you roll over and we repeat the same on your front including your feet. 

There were a lot of questions in my mind but I decided not to ask any more and just let the massage take its course. 

He left the room and I removed my clothes. When he returned I approached the massage table in my jocks. He gave me a quizzical look when he noticed I was still wearing underwear. 

I asked 'Should I leave these on?' 

'Sure. You can if you'd prefer. You get a better massage naked, but either way is OK.' 

I took down my underpants and left them with my clothes.

'I want the best I can have so nude it is. What do you want me to do?'

'Lie face down on the table and put your arms by your side, face over the face hole or on your side, whichever you'd prefer'. 

Music was playing with a relaxing beat with sounds of insects and birds from the forest in the background. 

I heard him wipe his hands on a towelling flannel, then rub his hands together to warm them. I felt slightly awkward lying naked on a massage table waiting for him to finish his preparations and start massaging me. I was more self-conscious while he was pre-occupied with his own process than when he began rubbing my body with his hands. 

I relaxed to the music and started to doze. In a light dream state, I could feel warm drops of viscous liquid on my shoulders, back and buttocks. Standing at my head, and using both hands he smeared the oil across my shoulder blades, down to the small of my back, up along my sides, then back to my shoulders. 

Next he repeated but reached further down my back to my buttocks, which he spread wide as he smeared oil more comprehensively, around and between the cheeks of my arse. He used his fingers to smear the massage oil over my anus and perineum. I was shocked and embarrassed that he would touch me there. No one had ever seen me there before, let alone touched me. The most surprising part of it was that I began to get an erection. Was I getting aroused?

The time passed for me to object, and I began to wonder what I was in for. He began massaging my back and some of the moves he did had a wonderful effect on the mild pain I was feeling after working in my garden. 

He explained a technique he had developed from a cupped hands tapping method where he gave 3 hard slaps on each buttock, then massaged the legs and returned to the buttocks once the sting had ceased. I was already becoming aroused by his normal massage but this technique sounded intriguing. 

I asked 'How hard are the slaps?'

'About the same as when you clap your hands. I will slap your right buttock, then your left, then your right, left, right and left.' 

'Umm. I don't know. Has anyone ever complained about being slapped?'

'Never. People like the overall experience. I will count and apply each blow on the count of 3. Are you ready?'

'I think so.'

On the count of 3, he stung my right buttock with a loud slap, then walked around the end of the table and counted 3 and stung me over again when he slapped my left buttock. He continued to do this 4 more times and my arse was stinging, but a few moments later, I could feel it begin to flush deeply giving me a tingling sensation that was completely sensual. 

He massaged my legs with 5 distinctly different techniques, all naturally following on from one another. There was a light but staccato rhythm hitting with the edge of his hands, light tapping with cupped hands, sharp pinching of my skin followed by firm strokes, but getting lighter until I could hardly feel his fingertips gliding across my buzzing skin. I felt my skin tighten up and began to get goose bumps as the sensation of his hands on me made my skin begin to tingle. 

My excitement was gradually rising to such a level of intensity that my back pain, the reason I had decided to get a massage in the first place, was all but forgotten about. 

He changed position and dripped a liberal amount of massage oil on my legs. As he worked on the back of my legs he placed my feet into two recesses in the table and started winding that end of the table which was designed to separate the legs of the client. This allowed him to massage both legs from a position standing between the client's legs. 

Another hydraulic adjustment gradually bent the table so that my arse was at the highest point, my upper body tilted downwards. I felt vulnerable and very exposed, but he remained matter of fact and continued his work diligently.

Working on the outside of both legs he treated me from ankles to my hips. Next, he massaged to the inside of my legs up along my thighs, stopping as he touched the pubic hair growing on my balls. 

He repeated the same pattern of massage on my other leg. All this time my excitement was growing I could hardly feel his fingertips gliding across my tingling skin. I felt my skin tighten up and began to get goose bumps all over again as the sensation of his hands on me made my skin begin to shiver, but not with cold. He once again reached the top of my inner thigh lightly and maddeningly brushing the hair at the top of that leg. 

Then standing between my legs, he positioned me to allow full access to my buttocks, and began working on them again. 

From the back of my legs over the cheeks of my arse he lightened his touch even further to the top of my buttocks. He spread his fingers wide to the perimeter of my buttocks circling his fingers in the smallest lightest circles. The effect was a sensuous shock. My prick was curled up under my weight, becoming raging hard and tortured with nowhere to grow. He orbited his fingers inwards, one cheek at a time. 

I would have been in a state of mild ecstasy just feeling the flush as my arse recovered. The feelings as the sting of pain from the beating he gave me earlier turned to sheer pleasure. He repeated this a few times, then stopped, and I was left untouched for a full minute. Every feeling of pleasure I could ever remember did not compare to the anticipation of whatever was coming next.

He began with light chops with the edge of his hands. Then a pattern of light but firm pinching at the top of my legs and up and down the cleavage between my buttocks, then a series of light nips around the rim of my anus. 

Then, using the heels of his hands firmly on my buttocks, he spread them wide and I felt his fingertips run from the top of my buttocks slowly downwards. I waited for him to stop short of my anus, which must have been rudely exposed to his sight; but he continued downwards firmly rubbing my tightened orifice. I could feel my penis harden as I squirmed to try and find space for it to swell up under my stomach. 

Then again, upwards from the back of my legs to my buttocks and again slowly down the cleavage of my buttocks to my perineum. After the third time, he shocked and alarmed me spreading my buttocks wide and his fingertip penetrated me and revolved lightly in my anus. 

I cried out, 'Stop that! What are you doing?' 

He softly replied, 'Just lie still and relax. You'll find it pleasant if you can relax. It's only for a few more seconds,' as he continued to revolve his teasing fingertip in my arse. 

I felt like a complete slut, letting him do that to me. Once I relaxed, in spite of myself fighting against my rampant arousal, he almost brought me to orgasm. I started whimpering and covered my face with my hands. I could not imagine this much pleasure coming from two hands working deliberately on my arse.

He withdrew his fingertip and feathered his fingers down my back from my shoulders to my ankles 3 times. He wiped me down with a soft cloth leaving me feeling clean without any discernible oil still apparent. Then. he wound the table back down until it was flat again. .

He said, 'Turn over and I'll massage the front.' 

As I rolled over, my swollen pulsating penis was exposed. I tried to relax but I could feel it throbbing strongly, hovering above my stomach for nearly 2 minutes as he prepared to massage the front of my body. 

I was thinking that if having my back massaged was that arousing, how far would he go massaging the front of me?

He began with my arms, including my hands, then firmly on my chest, and sides. He was much more subtle lower down feathering circles around my stomach, then moving lower with the circles until he lightly grasped my throbbing cock holding it out of the way to massage the top of my pubic area. 

Then he abruptly stopped and began a thorough massage on my feet. Then he began the front of my legs, comprehensively paying attention to every part as he had on the back. My penis retained its size but relaxed in a soft state lying up along my stomach. 

He spread my feet apart again, and began working between my legs. His strong hands ran up from my knees with his thumbs on the inside of my thighs. He lifted my balls up out of the way and massaged my perineum. He could see the effect of his hand firmly pumping blood into my cock hardening it causing it to swell to it's full hardness again. 

A copious flow of fluid poured from the tip of my penis, which he caught in one hand signalling a probable orgasm if I was to be further aroused. He very gently massaged my own pre-cum oil into my balls. His massage was the most thorough I had ever had and his sensitivity and expertise were very impressive. 

I wondered if he would take this any further. While I came to the masseur to get relief for my back, he had obviously used all the most effective methods to relieve the ache I had developed bent over and working in my garden.

I thought that with my arousal at such a feverish level, I would be left frustrated if he finished at this point. I didn't say anything and waited to see what was next. 

Standing between my splayed legs, he stopped massaging my balls and reached forward to my shoulders and firmly massaged down my chest, lightly over my stomach and brushing my pubic hair lightly, he continued down my legs to my feet. Then with both hands on my chest below my neck, he moved his hands downward. His right hand stopped on my stomach, the other continued down slowly 

With his left hand he spidered his fingers slowly upward from the base of my straining cock, then he slowly revolved his lubricated fingertips around the shaft of my penis, just below the glans, torturing me by keeping the pace just slow enough so that the climax would be just out of reach. 

Finally, he slowly massaged it back down to the base summoning an unstoppable climax. With his other hand, he followed the first slowly from tip to base of my feverishly pulsating cock. 

There was a long high-pitched moan coming from somewhere. I soon realised it was from me. My whole body was transported to an overwhelming orgasmic state, flushing my face and head and neck. 

He gently grasped my cock just below the head, lightly squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing my tortured throbbing member. My balls, anus, stomach, armpits and legs all throbbed and flushed, 

I gasped 'I'm coming.' 

My hardened prick squirted numerous copious streams of semen into a tissue he produced for the possibility of an ejaculation. 

I remained lying on his massage table comprehensively spent. Exhausted, I fell asleep. 

Sometime later, I woke as he towelled the front of my body down again. 

He told me, 'You can shower if you like.' 

'Thanks for that. No need. I feel OK now.'

I dressed, paid him, begged him for his card and left on very shaky legs.



Gardening



I like gardening. It's a relaxing hobby and I happen to have the knack of making plants grow. Give my brother and me two identical plants and what happens? He carefully plants his one, adds the right fertilizer, tends it carefully, watches over it like a mother with her baby, right up to the time it dies on him. Me, I slap my plant down into the soil and jump back to give it room to grow. A natural talent and a green thumb, I assure my brother. Pure arsed luck, he tells me.

As a result of this green thumb I have a very nice garden. I've even won a few neighbourhood prizes for best garden, which irritates my brother no end. I have a very nice array of roses along one side of my garden. When they're in flower I have no objections to the neighbours taking a few roses, as long as they don't strip a bush. Some of the local girls take advantage of this to get themselves a nice posy occasionally. Even the odd lad has been known to take a couple to give to his girlfriend.

What was new to me was walking out one day and finding a complete bush gone. Someone came along overnight and dug it up. A very nice 'Love and Peace' rose, a multi-coloured specimen. 

Having someone pinch a complete bush really irritated me, especially when I spotted the bush in a nearby garden a few days later. I knew it was my rose but how the hell could I prove it? A few minor bits of pruning and it was no longer my bush. Nothing I could do but swear eternal vengeance and go skulking back home.

Losing one bush was an irritant. Losing a second one a week later was tantamount to a declaration of war. What did the stupid woman think she was playing at? The family was new in the neighbourhood. How did one go about letting them know that sticky fingers weren't appreciated?

I was standing there glowering at my lost bushes, now settling nicely into their garden, when the woman who lived there came out. She was around forty, reasonable looking, friendly and knowledgeable about roses. Did I like her latest two bushes? Her daughter had got them for her. She knew a place where she could get them cheap, apparently. How interesting. I'd really have to have a chat with her daughter at some stage.

I had seen a young woman who I thought was probably her daughter a couple of times. She'd been delighted to know she could pick a few roses as she liked to have some in her room. Now that I thought about it, the first few roses she took were from the 'Love and Peace' rose that subsequently went walkabout. Yes, I really wanted a word with that young lady.

There was no rush. I kept an eye out and bided my time. It happened. Another bush went, and I waited for a certain young lady to come past. She wandered past that afternoon, stopping to admire my roses with a smile on her face.

"Beth, isn't it?" I casually asked her, leaning against the fence.

She nodded. 

"You really have a nice lot of roses, don't you?" she said.

"I do indeed. Would you believe that some lowlife actually stole one of my bushes last night? You can get some real scumbags around the place, can't you? I mean, if even the plants on your yard aren't safe, what is?"

Beth was all sympathetic, agreeing that there were, indeed, some low lifes around.

"Third time it's happened," I groused. "Fortunately I've got a nasty shock in store for them this time."

"Ah, you do?" she asked.

I nodded. You can't see it from here but there's a high definition camera installed up in the eaves. Comes complete with low-light penetration, allowing me to get really good shots even at night. I'll just need to print out a few prints and turn them over to the cops while I fill out the complaint. I'll probably tack a few up on the lamp-posts around the neighbourhood, letting the neighbours know who to watch out for."

For some reason Beth had gone a little pale.

"Say, want to come in and watch the film with me? Maybe you know the person and can point them out to me."

"Um, no, I don't think so," she muttered. "I've got to be getting home."

"Ah, no, I think you really want to come in and see the pretty pictures. I'm sure you'll enjoy the show. It's amazing what these modern cameras can show. It's just like filming in the middle of the day and there was only moonlight."

I reached over and opened the gate, indicating that she should enter. Looking a little sick, she did so. I escorted her silently along the path and into the front room.

"Do you really want to see the film?" I asked. "There are some very good shots on it. Would you believe that you actually looked directly at the camera at one stage? The face spotting technology in the software just zoomed in on you for a lovely little close up." 

"What are you going to do?" she asked, ignoring the question.

"I believe I've already answered that," I pointed out. "You know, the printouts, the formal complaint to the police, the posting of the photos. I wouldn't worry about the cops too much though. You'll probably only get a bond or a minor fine. I'm assuming this is a first offence?"

"Yes," she muttered. I guess it's hard to speak when your teeth are gritted together.

"Or possibly the first time you've been caught?"

"No. I've never done anything like this before. I just wanted to improve mum's garden."

"Mm. She's going to be real proud of that garden now, isn't she? I wonder how she'll feel when the cops come knocking."

"I'm sorry. Do you really have to go the police? I'm willing to pay for the bushes." 

"The cops were my second choice," I told her. "But then I figured that if I take this to the police then you're screwed, even if it is only figuratively. My first thought was to catch you alone, rip your clothes of, and screw you literally. Wiser council suggested you might prefer the figurative screwing to the actual."

From the look on her face that decision might have gone either way, although neither appealed. But I suspected that she really did not want the cops involved.

"I said I'm sorry and that I'll pay for the bushes. Can't you just let it go at that?"

"No. Then you'll think you can just buy your way out of trouble. You may not realise it but I am really quite angry about this."

She reddened and looked elsewhere. I let the silence linger for a few moments. Then I offered her a straw to grab.

"You don't want to get screwed literally and neither do you want the cops and the figurative screwing. What would you suggest? That I just give you a beating and send you on your way with your promises to be good?"

"That'd work," she said quickly. "There'd be no need to involve the police or anything. I won't do anything like this again, I swear. I couldn't bear it if my mother found out. And to have everyone talking about me and pointing. . ." She gave a delicate little shudder.

I laughed.

"It's not on, kid," I told her. "Neighbours are not supposed to go around handing out corporal punishment to the kids in the area, no matter how much they deserve it. And if you're considered a juvenile you'll only face the Children's Court and there'd be no adult record kept."

"Stop calling me kid," she said, gritted teeth rubbing together again. "I'm not a child. I'm eighteen. Nearly nineteen. And if I say you can beat me then it's no-one else's business."

"Actually, that probably makes it worse. You'd be screaming rape as soon as I pulled down your panties to start paddling you. Thanks, but no thanks."

"I wouldn't. Honest, I wouldn't. Ah, why would you have to take my panties down anyway?"

"Use some common sense. I don't have a riding crop or wooden paddle to beat you with. That only leaves my hand. I should just slap you around? No way known. The only thing left is to bend you over my knee and spank you. If I'm going to spank you I'd do it on a bare bottom to make sure you got the point. I can see me now, bending you over, pulling down your panties, hearing the loud screams as you shriek your lungs out."

I gave her a 'you must be kidding' look and she was starting to look irritated.

"Look, if it's a choice between hullo, officer, and hullo, spanking, I'll go with the spanking. And I wouldn't scream, I swear. Look, I'll prove it."

With that she reached up her skirt, pulled her panties down and stuffed them in the pocket of her skirt.

"See," she said with a little gasp. "You won't even need to pull them down. They're already off. All you need to do is give me a spanking and we can call it quits."

I reached over and casually lifted the hem of her skirt. She was beautifully naked beneath it. I didn't blatantly stare at her, lifting my eyes to meet hers, showing I wasn't that impressed by her nakedness. She'd given a little start when I lifted her dress but relaxed when I didn't seem to make a big deal about it.

"This is totally against my better judgement," I blustered, and I could see a satisfied little smile playing around her lips. She was going to get her tale smacked and walk away scot free (apart from a sore bottom).

"So what do I do?" she asked me. "Do I bend over your knee?"

"No. Bend over the end of the couch."

She scooted over to the couch and bent over it, kindly lifting her dress up to expose her bottom. How thoughtful of her. Still, it was a very nice bottom.

"If you stand like that you're going to pitch forward onto the couch the first time I smack you. I suggest you move your feet a bit further apart so that you have a better balance."

She did as suggested, blushing a little as she did so. I suspected that she was wondering just how much she had on display. Everything, I could have told her, but chose not to.

I stood by her side and back a little. As well as giving me a good position for a nice paddling it also let me see anything I wanted to without making it obvious that I was checking her out.

"I am really very disappointed in your behaviour, you know," I observed, emphasising this with her first spank, my hand bouncing off a nice round buttock. "Very disappointed," I added, treating her other firm, round, shapely, white, buttock to a similar spank.

A nice thing about ladies bottoms. The curve of their cheeks matches nicely with the curve of my hand. Not that Beth seemed to be appreciating the way the curve of my hand met the curve of her bottom. She wailed, saying it was too hard, which it wasn't, that it hurt, which it was supposed to, and that I should stop, which I didn't.

I warmed her bottom quite nicely for her, giving it a nice red glow. I also warmed her ears, giving a sanctimonious little lecture to go with the spanking. From the muttering that occurred in between the weeping and wailing I would have to say the lecture was even less appreciated than the spanking.

I would like to point out that ninety percent of the weeping and wailing were of the crocodile's tears variety and didn't mean a thing. I knew precisely how hard I was spanking her and, while her bottom was undoubtedly smarting, I wasn't causing any bruising. More tenderising, than anything else.

Of interest to me were the little signs I could use to gauge just how she was reacting. Like the light flush on her bottom and the flush that seemed to be developing around her pudendal area. The swelling of her labia and the way they pursed and pouted. All little indications that she was reacting the way I expected.

Beth didn't even seem to notice when a slight change to the angle of my spank allowed the tips of my fingers to reach between her legs and sting her pussy slightly. Unless you call a slight squirming and raising of her bottom noticing.

I decided that she was warmed up enough. I'd already unfastened my trousers and it was a moment's work to drop them and move up behind her. With the next spank my hand slid down and covered her mound. Spreading my fingers spread her lips, and my erection was right there, knocking at the door. Not that it waited for an invite before starting to push its way in.

There was a definite reaction this time.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she screamed.

What I was doing was sliding my cock down a hot, wet, passage that seemed to be eagerly awaiting it. While tight, it was yielding happily to my thrust. I explained it to her.

"I am doing what you've been expecting ever since you dropped your panties. Actually, you were probably more surprised by the fact that I really did spank you, than you are by this. Any time a young woman drops her panties in front of a man and bends over, she knows exactly what is coming her way." 

"I didn't. You said you weren't going to do this."

"And you decided that I should. Far be it from me to disappoint a young woman. Don't worry. I'll do my best to make sure that this is the best penalty you've ever had. May I suggest, just in the spirit of cooperation for your penalty, you take off your top and bra. Mmm?"

"And if I don't?"

"Then I won't be able to play with your breasts while I punish you. Would you like me to help you?"

"I can do it," came the disgruntled reply. 

Isn't it amazing what people will do when they stop thinking? Beth had hauled her top over her head before she remembered that she wasn't taking it off. Then it clicked and she swore at me. I laughed.

"You've gone that far, you might as well finish it," I advised and, muttering while she did so, she unclipped her bra and let it fall.

"Are you ready to ride?" I asked.

"Are you going to stop if I say no?"

"Ah, no, I don't think so. It would just mean that I'd start off at a much slower pace until you are ready."

"You planned this right from the start, didn't you?" she groused. 

"Me? Definitely not," I protested. "You're the one who persuaded me to go this way, remember?"

"Two words," she said softly. "Bull and shit."

"You do have a fine way of expressing yourself. Shall we see how well you can express your opinions with your body?"

She gave a sigh. I think it was supposed to be a sigh of resignation, but it sounded awfully like a sigh of anticipation.

"You might as well do it, seeing you've already started."

I took hold of her breasts, feeling her press them firmly against my hands. It would seem she liked having her breasts held. Then I pulled back a little and gave her that first all-important thrust, letting her know my serious intentions. She wasn't, I was happy to see, reluctant to push back against me.

"One thing," she gasped out, as I started making merry. "If you start lecturing me again I am going to scream, so just shut up for a while."

"I can do that," I said softly. "Am I allowed to tell you how fine you feel? Can I tell you how I like the feel of your breasts in my hands, and the way that your nipples rub against my palms?"

She didn't answer that. We had a nice movement under way and I kept it going, rubbing and massaging her breasts in time to my thrusting demands. As we went I let one hand drift away from her breasts, just letting it wander around generally, across her tummy, up her sides, around her neck and lightly over her face, all the time speaking softly, telling her how wonderful she felt and how much I appreciated what we were doing. 

She didn't answer at all, just making these funny little sounds as we progressed. Neither did she tell me to shut up. Mind you, she did try to bite my finger when I drew it along her lips. 

And all the time I was driving into her, getting harder by the minute. And I do meant getting, not going. True I was going harder as we progressed, but my cock felt as though it had been turned into a rock. I was absolutely rigid, taking my pleasure with a tool that felt as though it would shatter if hit the wrong way. My flowery little compliments were dwindling, being replaced with a driving need to take this woman.

That need also told me that I'd better reach some sort of a conclusion soon or my testicles were going to explode, taking my cock with them if I didn't find some sort of relief. What could I do? I took her harder and faster and prayed for mercy.

I was totally relieved when I finally climaxed, never being so happy to reach that state. I was just as happy for Beth as, from her wild reaction, she had also climaxed about the same time. She stood there, leaning against the couch breathing heavily. I was breathing just as heavily, but I was leaning against her. 

Eventually we both straightened up. I turned her to face me, reached down and undid the clip on her skirt, letting it drop away.

"Why did you do that?" she asked.

"Just wanting to see you," I said.

"Oh. Ah, how much do I owe you for the bushes I pinched?" 

She had the grace to blush when she asked. I just shook my head. 

"I think we can consider those paid for in full," I said. "Of course, if you're feeling guilty enough I won't knock back another payment."

She just gave me a look. Damned if I know if it meant yes, no, or, we'll see. I guess I'd have to wait to find out.

"Um, are you going to get rid of those photos now?"

"Ah, what photos?" I asked, confused.

"From the security camera," she amplified, talking as though I was an idiot.

"Oh, those," I said, nodding. "I'd certainly do that if I had a camera."

You could feel the sudden chill in the air.

"You don't have a camera?" she asked, speaking very carefully.

I shook my head. 

"Do you know how much those things cost?" I asked. "I'll pass on the cameras, thank you."

"You didn't have any camera?" she shrieked.

"I just said that."

"Then how could you know it was me that took your silly bushes? It could have been anyone. You had no right to say it was me."

"Ah, Beth, it was you, remember. I knew it was you because your mother told me. I was admiring her nice new rose bushes and she explained where she got them. When I invited you in, your coming in confirmed it."

She got dressed, stopping every so often to give me a dirty look. (I also pulled my trousers up. You feel silly, standing there with everything hanging out and not intending to put it anywhere.)

Once Beth was dressed she just stood there, looking a little lost. What is the correct behaviour after you've just been spanked? She wanted to stalk out in a huff but she wasn't quite game. 

"Come with me," I told her, making up her mind for her, and led her out through the kitchen into the backyard. 

"Where are we going?" she demanded.

"My greenhouse." 

I took her out the back, indicating the structure that ran across the back of the yard. Despite herself she was interested. 

"My roses are nice, but they're pretty standard," I said, opening the door. "These are nicer and not standard."

She just stood inside the door with her mouth open, staring about. All my orchids were on display and I must admit I have a fine variety. About half of them were currently in flower.

"Come on," I said, urging her along, albeit slowly as she was trying to look everywhere at once. "I'll cut you a few sprays. You'll find that they will last quite a while if you just put a little sugar in the water."

It took me nearly an hour to pry her back out of the greenhouse. She went happily on her way, clutching her orchids carefully. She would, I decided, be back. And not just for more orchids.