This is my first ever story, and the first in a series I have planned. I wrote it for my wife and decided to put it here to see if others would like it. Feedback and remarks are encouraged. Thanks!

Saturday

It was one of those chilly, gray, and damp October mornings. You know, the kind that make you want to get under a blanket and binge crappy Netflix movies and eat junk food all day? I had been inside for too long, and I felt myself falling into just that type of procrastination if I did not get up and moving soon.

I wandered out to my garage, looking at projects that needed finished, tools that needed cleaned and put away, trying to find something that caught my interest, something to snap me out of this lazy mood. As I contemplated, I strolled around putting things away, a hammer here, a couple of screwdrivers there, putting tools back in their respective drawers in my large toolbox. I was in the back, sweeping up sawdust when a shelf caught my eye. It had all the tools for yard work and maintaining the trees and lawn: saws, pruners, an axe, etc.

This reminded me, we did have a large tree come down in the storm last week. It was one of those violent fall storms that rattle the house and make you feel like it may come crashing down at any moment. When I had gone out to inspect the damage in the morning, I saw we had lost a large part of a three trunked oak that had hit the corner of the shed and fallen across the yard, its uppermost branches stretching out to the pond, cutting the yard in half. The tree was still laying there, and I decided it was about time I cleaned it up.

With a newfound purpose for the day, I climbed on my old tractor with renewed energy, pulling it out of the garage and hooking up to the trailer. I loaded up all the tools I would need for clearing a tree: chainsaw, hand saw, pruners, an axe, splitting wedges, sledgehammer, and my splitting maul. Now that the trailer was loaded, I grabbed a small cooler and headed inside to change into some work clothes.

Inside, I loaded the cooler with a few bottles of water, 3 or 4 beers, and filled it with ice. The yard is too big for me to want to go back to the house every time I got thirsty, so I had better be prepared. Throwing a couple slices of left over pizza on top, I was packed up for the day.

I turned to head up the stairs to the bedroom, pulling my t shirt over my head as I went. I stepped into the room and shut the door, throwing the shirt in the basket, and hooking my thumbs in the waistband of my old gym shorts, I pulled them to the floor. I tossed those in the basket as well and went looking in my dresser for some work jeans. I pulled a pair out and unfolded them. I remembered these jeans. I had bought them because they were on sale, and they were my size, but when I got home to try them on, they were not something I would wear out in public. They were way too tight in the ass and thigh for my liking, and if I was wearing the kind of boxers that lift and hold your junk, well, it made way too much of a bulge at the front where my package strained against the denim. And now, they were worn thin, had a few rips and paint stains on them, so relegated to yard work they were.

As I pulled them up my legs and wiggled my ass to get them up all the way, I caught my reflection in the full-length mirror on the door. I suppose I did look pretty silly doing the pants dance to get dressed. I was never one to admire myself in the mirror, but I did pause to take a second to look. At over 40 years old, I was no longer the muscly hunk of my twenties. Sure, the muscles were still there, but I had put on a few pounds that covered them, and I wasn’t as fit as I was in my Marine Corps days. Still, being over six foot tall helped hide the bit of extra weight, and I still had a full head of deep brown hair, and a full brown beard with very little grays. I guess I would say I was happy where I was. Sure, there are things I would change, but if I thought about most of my peers, I didn’t have a beer belly, I wasn’t balding and I wasn’t going gray, so overall, I was content with my physical shape. With my jeans on, I grabbed an old t shirt that was worn just as thin and paint stained to match the jeans I was wearing and headed outside.

I was surprised to see the change in weather since I had gone in. The sun rose higher in the sky, as the time was approaching 11 o’clock, and had burnt through the clouds that gave way and allowed it to dry the morning dew from the grass. Once again, I climbed on my tractor and drove out back. At three acres, our property isn’t overly large. It’s more than many people have, but what makes ours unique is its layout. Being only 200 feet wide, the end of the property is 900 feet off the road and 500 feet from the house, coupled with the fact that there is a small hill in the land, you can’t see all the way to the back yard from the house, and once you’re in the back yard, you can’t see the house either.

It was here that I set up my work for the day. I pulled the tractor alongside the tree, unloaded my tools from the trailer and laid them in the grass, checked the chainsaw for gas and bar oil, put in my ear buds and set to work. I took the pruners and cut smaller branches to be drug over to the fire pit to burn. With the fire going, I began using the chainsaw. I cut off larger limbs and cut them up into manageable sizes for firewood. After a couple of hours, I had the branches and limbs stripped clean from the trunk and sorted to be stacked later and in just another half hour, I had the trunk cut into 1-foot sections that I could then split.

While I was working, my mind began to wander as it often does. I drifted back over the years as Snoop sang on about fucking the bitches and smacking the hoes in my earbuds. It’s a funny thing to look back on life, and how you got to where you are and the things you’ve come to accept as normal. It wasn’t always like this. 15 years ago, everything was fine, but, as Chris Rock says, the only things loved unconditionally are women, children, and dogs. Men are only valued for what they can do, what they provide. Sure, we started out great, but as the kids came along and adulthood came on, I found myself taking more and more of the backseat. It’s kind of painful to look back now and thing about how we went from being partners to me just being a piece of furniture, the live in handy man. “Hey, I need you to fix this,” or “The drain is clogged in the bathroom,” or “Can you build us that.” Never, “How are you feeling, are you happy,” “What are some of your ideas, plans and goals that we can work towards.” Just rejection and ridicule, overruling and shut down. So, I retreat into the shell of a guy who just goes through the motions and accepts that this is life now. Such is the case for many men my age, I suppose, and I am no different. Oh well. C'est la vie, such is life.

Snapping back to the here and now, I decided that this would be as good of time as any to take a break. I was finished cutting up the tree, so I put the saw and pruners away and piled more branches on the fire. The morning sun had risen, changing from a chilly morning to a warm noon, to now, at 1 o’clock, the sun was beating down an unseasonable heat. My shirt had become drenched with sweat and sawdust as it clung to me like a second skin while I walked to the trailer to grab a beer and a slice of pizza. Looking back at my work as I sipped my beer, the only thing left to do was to split the large tree rounds into firewood. As I surveyed the job at hand, my gaze shifted towards the rows of town homes that were being built next to our property, a mere thirty feet away. She was all pissed off about them building next to us and it ruining our privacy, but it’s not like she’s ever done anything back there that we’d need to be private about, and in my mind, I didn’t care. I was there first. If you look out your window and see me doing God knows what, don’t live there and don’t be looking. Like I said, I was there first.

It was as I was mindlessly looking up and down the row of houses that I swear I saw some curtains move. I didn’t think the townhomes were done yet, and I’m fairly certain no one had moved in. Why were the curtains up? And why did they move? Slightly confused, I decided to ignore it, while also deciding that splitting wood was going to be far too uncomfortable in the soaked through t shirt that was pasted to my torso. Reaching behind my neck with one hand, I pulled the shirt up over my head and tossed it onto the trailer by the cooler. I finished my pizza and downed what was left of my beer, grabbed my splitting wedges and maul, and started to set up for splitting. Out of the corner of my eye, I could swear I saw the curtains move again.

A half hour later, lost in work again, a call of “Hiya!” distracted me. I was mid swing, maul high above my head, and the female voice caught my attention right as I was bringing it down. It glanced off the log, sending the log flying and burying the maul into the earth inches from my foot. Slightly perturbed, I leaned on the handle of the tool and looked over to where this voice came from. There, no more than thirty feet away, on the back patio of the nearest townhome, was a pair of legs holding a ridiculously huge plant. As I continued to stare, the plant lowered itself to the patio and revealed the source of the mystery voice. A beautiful, tall blonde woman was standing there smiling at me.

“You alright?” she asked in a thick London accent. “Huh? Uh, yeah, I’m ok.” I replied, not knowing that this was more of a statement than a question from her. I stood for a solid minute, leaning on the handle of the maul buried in the ground, confused, annoyed, tired, and sweaty. I suddenly felt very silly to be out working shirtless wearing those too-tight jeans that no one was supposed to see me in.

Ignoring all this, she walked closer to me, a gentle sway in her hips as she looked at me. “It’s a beautiful day for some work in the garden, innit?” she said, undeterred by my awkward confusion and stare. “Uh, er, yeah, I guess.” I managed to say, even more confused as to why there was someone living there, why she was so attractive, and why she was approaching me to talk.

“I’m Roberta,” she said, stretching out her hand to shake. “I-uh-Luke,” I said, wiping my sweaty hand on my blue jeans before taking her tiny, soft hand in mine for a handshake. “I-uh-Luke,” she repeated. “Nice to meet you,” she said with a giggle as I continued to stare. “I, erm, I-I’m sorry, you just surprised me.” I stammered, trying to regain composure. Why was I so nervous? Was it just the surprise and the oddity of it all? Pulling myself together slightly, I managed to speak a full sentence for the first time in minutes. “Sorry, I didn’t think anyone was living here yet. I would’ve put on something more appropriate if I knew I had company.” “Poppycock,” came her short reply, eyes lowering down my bare chest to the bulge those stupid jeans made and back up. “It’s hot and you’re working hard. Besides it’s your yard, I should not have intruded. I’m sorry, I’ll leave you to your work.” With that she turned to walk away, that sway in her hips again…

“Wait, no, its fine,” I quickly replied, trying to save face and regain the opportunity to talk to this stunning woman. “I was just about to wrap up for the day, I can finish the rest tomorrow. It’s getting too hot, and I’ve been at it for hours.”

“I noticed,” she said, before quickly shutting up and looking at the ground, realizing she had outed herself as the mystery curtain mover in the upstairs window. Not wanting to lose the chance to talk to someone new for once, I ignored the confession and invited her over for a beer. Her mood perked back up and she replied, “Sure, that sounds nice! I could use a break, too.” Leaving her patio, she stepped into my yard as I fished a couple more beers out of the cooler. I could see the small, disappointed smile on her face as I handed her a bottle of Bud Light, Americas finest, but she was polite and didn’t comment on my poor taste in beverages. As she twisted the cap off and took a swig, I said it for her. “I know, it’s not the best around, but it’s cheap and it gets the job done.”

I leaned against the tractor tire, and she sat on the trailer as we talked. When I asked her what brought her over to my side of the pond she said that she had gotten a new job a couple of weeks ago and that they had put her up in this house while she underwent training, onboarding, orientation and a sort of internship/shadowing for the next 4 months before she was brought up to speed and could return home to work remote. Someone high-up in her company knew the developer of the townhomes next to us, and although they weren’t technically ready yet, he was able to get this one finished and set up for her to move in. Her boxes and belongings had arrived Thursday, she arrived Friday, and now here we were, chatting like old friends on Saturday.

“Very cool,” I said, “I’ve never met a Londoner before.” With that she chuckled and took another sip of her beer. “Actually, I’m from Lithuania, born and raised. I only moved to London as a late teen.” She proceeded to go on about Lithuania, growing up in the 1980’s under Soviet rule, her mom, their farm, family history and all sorts.

As she spoke, I took the opportunity to take in her beauty. It was hard to tell with her sitting down, but I’m guessing her to be in her mid 30’s, 5 foot 6 or 7 inches, taller than most women, but still a good half foot shorter than me. Dyed blonde hair and a face with distinctly sharp Eastern-European features, lips plump and colored cherry red with eyes a deep hazel that seemed to look into my soul and could hypnotize me if I looked too long. Her body was just as magnificent. She wasn’t a string bean super model, but was the type that wasn’t afraid of a bit of hard work and could hold her own on the yard chores. She was wearing short shorts that showed off her long legs that worked their way up to a well-shaped ass. There was a large mural tattoo of a Chinese dragon scene up her entire right leg that led to her wide hips, trim tummy, and magnificent breasts. I’m not generally a boob guy, but my God, they looked amazing in her plain white t shirt that showed the slightest hint of a red lacy bra underneath, If I had to guess, they were well over a C cup. Suffice to say, she had me captivated. I was smitten within the first 10 minutes of meeting her.

Luckily, or unluckily, her phone began to buzz as my eyes were wandering over her captivating body. Looking down at her phone and then back at me she said with a slight frown, “It’s mom, making sure I’m settling in ok. I better go call her. Sorry, have to run, nice to meet you, I-uh-Luke,” she giggled. And with that, she stood, downed her beer, and headed back into her house, hips swaying all the way.

That night as I lay in bed I tried to sleep. But every time I closed my eyes, my mind played flashbacks from the day. Meeting Roberta, admiring her body, remembering her smile and her amazing body. The way the conversation flowed like we had known each other for years. And always, my mind would return to seeing her go, and that gentle sway in her hips. I felt a stirring in my boxers again, thinking about this new, magical stranger. As I tossed and turned, I realized that I just had to know. I just had to see her again.

Sunday

The next day, I was up by 7 am, even though I wanted to sleep in after a restless night where images of Roberta played through my brain on repeat. The rest of the tree needed splitting and since I was up early, I decided to get a head start and beat the afternoon sun, in case it was as hot as yesterday. By 8 I had my cooler loaded with fresh beers, waters and pizza and was in the backyard, wearing the same too-tight jeans from yesterday, shirt discarded on the trailer as I started to work. After about an hour or so, my new friend Roberta came out on the patio to lounge in a chair she had put out. She had a book to read while she sunned herself and dark sunglasses over her stunning eyes.

“Hiya” she called over as we exchanged a friendly wave. “’Morning.” I called back to her “Working on your October tan?” I joked, noting that she had on another pair of tiny shorts like yesterdays and a spaghetti strap tank top that came to a stop above her belly button, revealing a pierced navel and ample cleavage. I don’t know if she was doing it on purpose or not, but this captivating woman certainly had an effect on me. “Oh, no,” came her reply. “I don’t tan at all, but the sun does feel good on the skin.”

I worked along for another couple of hours, splitting wood and tossing it into piles to stack later. All the while, Roberta was in and out of the house, sunning for a bit, sipping a cold drink and reading her book. I had noticed during my frequent glances her way, that Roberta didn’t seem to be making much progress on her book. In fact, noticing that she had started reading close to the beginning of her book, it didn’t look like she could have read more than one or two pages in the hours she had been there.

By 11 o’clock, I was finished splitting the logs and had two sizable piles of firewood that I needed to stack. I needed a break and grabbed a bottle of beer and a cold slice of left over pizza. Not wanting to be rude, I offered my new neighbor, and bit of eye candy, some, too. “I’ve got plenty if you’d like some.” I said, holding up the pizza and beer and motioning to the cooler. “Thanks darling, but I’ll pass,” she giggled back at me before returning to her book. I couldn’t blame her, stale pizza and cheap beer aren’t everyone’s cup of tea.

After a few minutes as I ate and drank in silence, she broke my daydream when she walked to the edge of her patio. “Why do you do all this work alone? It’s quite a bit of the heavy task.” She asked in her silky-smooth British accent. “What no kids or Mrs. to help share the chore?” The sudden question caught me off guard. “Ha,” I scoffed. “Outdoor chores are my job. No one else takes any interest in helping me. It’s just what is expected of me.” Gracefully, she ignored me blurting out too much information and taking a step closer, looked at me over her sunglasses and said, “Well I’d certainly be out here helping you. No sense in doing it all by yourself when you can have good company.” I could have sworn this woman was flirting with me. The way she seemed to look over my body, the way she twirled her hair and the way she looked over her sunglasses at me, made me think my new neighbor was coming on to me. “No, don’t be silly.” I thought to myself. “Things like this, and girls like that, don’t happen to guys like me.” I suddenly felt like an awkward teenager alone for the first time with the girl he likes. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t form a decent sentence. “Uh, I-er, thanks,” came my reply, feeling caught off guard by her seductive words and manners. What the fuck was happening to me? “Pull yourself together, man,” I scolded myself as I looked over her delicious frame again. We stood there looking at each other for a moment that felt like hours before I shook my head as if to scatter the building tension. At that, she giggled again. “Well, I’ll just be over here should you need anything,” she called as she turned to walk back to her lounger.

Stacking firewood is such a chore. It’s almost worse that splitting it. Tedious and time consuming, each piece must be set right to avoid the stack toppling over later. I was about a quarter of the way through this process, loading up an armful of wood, carrying them over to the stack, and arranging them carefully, when a piece slid off the load I was carrying, hitting my foot as it fell and leaving a good inch long splinter in my chest.

“Motherfucker!” I yelled. “Fuck!” Dropping the rest of the wood to the ground, I looked down to see just the end of the splinter poking through the skin on my chest and a small drop of blood beginning to form. “You alright?” came the familiar voice from Roberta’s patio, her looking over the top of her sunglasses again to see what the commotion was.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just a bit of a splinter is all.” She stood and crossed the patio into my yard. “Oh, bugger,” she said as she walked up to me. “Here, let’s have a look.” With that she placed her soft hands on my broad, sweaty chest, inspecting the wound and seeing if she could prize the splinter from the skin. I looked down on her as she was looking it over. I could feel her hands tremble on me as she ran her fingers over the skin. She seemed nervous and shaky and being this close to her for the first time, having her touch me for the first time, was causing a stirring in my pants. “Hmm, I think it’s too deep and close to the skin for me to get with my nails. Here, pop over to mine and I’ll get you fixed up. I’ve got tweezers and a bit of iodine that should have you good as new,” she said timidly.

“I couldn’t trouble you with that,” I said. “I’ll just head back to the house and get it cleaned up, it’s no big deal.” She looked up at me, hands still on my chest and I wondered if she could feel my heart racing. “Bollocks!” came her reply. “As your new neighbor, it’s the least I can do. Besides, I haven’t done a thing to help you all morning, at least let me take care of this for you. In 2 minutes you’ll be fixed up and off you pop.” It was hard to argue with a beautiful woman standing so close to me, and it did make sense to let her have a go at it, since she lived right there. Like she said, 2 minutes and off I pop, good as new.

Without saying a word, she led the way back to her townhouse and opened the sliding glass door to let me in. Boxes were still everywhere as we stepped inside. She was in the process of unpacking, but still knew where all her things were. Within a minute she had located the correct box and pulled out a small med kit and returned to me, ready to begin. She let out a giggle as she noticed my nipples standing out in the contrast of the heat of the sun outside and the chill of the A/C in her new house.

Roberta skillfully worked her fingers as she tended to me. First, a bit of numbing gel to kill the pain, then she took the tweezers and got a good purchase of the offending piece of wood. A few wiggles back and forth and she was able to slide the splinter out of my skin, leaving a tiny hole in my skin as a drop of blood began to slide down my chest. She cleaned up the blood and then applied a drop of iodine to prevent infection and lastly, a band-aid to keep it clean.

The whole operation took just a couple of minutes. And the whole time my mind was racing. Did she notice that as she worked, I was taking advantage of the wonderful view of her breasts down her tank top? Could she tell that as she slid her hands over me, occasionally brushing a nipple, and as I was staring at her, that the bulge in my pants was growing? If she did notice these things, she didn’t seem to care. Was she doing it on purpose?

With the splinter removed and the wound taken care of, her hands lingered on my chest as she kept her head lowered and eyes fixed on my body for what felt like ages, but what was probably only a few seconds. She seemed nervous, timid, and unsure of herself for the first time now, a change from the confident woman I had met outside. I don’t know why I did it, I wasn’t thinking, I was just reacting to the tension and desire I had felt building for the last 24 hours. Part of me just had to know if these feelings were real, and if she felt this, too.

Without a thought, I raised my hand to the side of her head and gently brushed her hair back behind her ear, then sliding a finger down to under her chin, I lifted her face up to mine. Our eyes met just a moment before our lips did. Her hands on my chest and me holding her head, we shared a few slow kisses. Holy shit. The sparks, the fireworks. When her lips met mine it sent a jolt through my entire body, lighting a passion I had never felt before. She whispered, “That was…” “Yeah,” I said slowly, cutting off her sentence for her before lowering my head to kiss her again.

This time when our lips met it was real. The timid testing and gentle kisses were replaced by primal desire. My tongue flashed across her lips, and she opened her mouth to let it inside. Mouths opened and pressed together, tongues dancing, I heard her let out the softest of moans as I lowered my hands and wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her tight to me as she slid her hands up from my chest to wrap around my neck. We kissed for ages, standing there amongst the boxes in her empty kitchen.

If I’m being honest, I could have stopped there. I was perfectly happy to be holding and kissing such a beautiful creature. But the same thought I had the night before came back to me again. I just had to know.

Breaking my kiss, she let out a low “Yesss,” as my lips and tongue slid back along her jaw and kissed behind her ear. I could feel her melt into me, breasts pressed into my chest as I licked and gently kissed from behind her ear, down her neck to her collarbone and out to the delicate strap of her tank top, taking the strap in my teeth and lowering it down her shoulder. My hands slid down from her waist to feel that delicious ass I had been admiring for the last 2 days as I kissed along the top of her chest to her other collar bone, sliding my tongue along and licking every bit of soft skin I could reach. I could feel her press her hips to me, rubbing her body against mine as I savored every part of her.

But I had to know more.

Creating a bit of space between us, I gathered the hem of that little tank top in my hands and lifted the tiny garment over her head. Now free, her gorgeous breasts sprang forward to me, begging to be touched. Leaning back in, I took one hand from her ass and slid it between us, taking her left breast in my hand, feeling her aroused nipple pressed into my palm as I dove down to take the other in my mouth. I devoured everything she had to offer. My face was buried between her magnificent boobs and switching back and forth between nipples. “Yessss,” she moaned out. “Suck those titties.” Her hands ran though my hair and pulled me tight to her chest as I kissed and licked every part of them. Between them, under them, over them, as my hand was feeling her soft skin, squeezing her breasts, pinching and pulling on her nipples, rolling them between my fingers. “Oh god yes,” she moaned out. “Fuck, I need this, don’t stop, baby.”

I had no intention of stopping, and I couldn’t have if I wanted to. The strong, confident woman outside had given way to a delicate flower. She became putty in my hands as I slid my hand into her shorts to squeeze her ass while I made love to her breasts. Fuck, the feeling of her body, her bare skin against mine, fueled a fire inside me and propelled me forward to know more.

My dick had grown rock hard by the time I felt her small fingers wrap around it through my jeans. “Oh, fuck,” she moaned out again as she slid her fingers along its length. Knowing what was to come, we both set about stripping each other of our remaining clothes. She deftly undid my belt buckle, the button and the zipper, sliding those jeans off as I was pushing her shorts to the floor. We kicked our clothes to the side and went back to exploring each other. Taking my hard cock in her hand, she slowly slid it up and down, feeling every ridge and vein as it pulsed and twitched at her touch.

Pushed further by desire, I lifted her to the counter as she spread her legs, inviting me between them. While she reached down and stroked me, my fingers wandered down her body from her boobs over her stomach and to my newfound treasure. I felt her wetness as my fingers brushed over her clit and down through her lower lips. Fuck, this woman was on fire. She was so wet and slick from her own juices she instantly welcomed my fingers into her eager pussy. “Fuck yes, baby, oh God that feels so good,” she moaned out again as I explored her most sensitive areas.

Not one to let my fingers do this task alone, my mouth left her aroused nipples and traced her curves down her stomach, following the path my fingers had made. She let out a giggle as I circled her belly button with my tongue, dipping inside and playing with her piercing, pausing for only a moment before continuing on to my prize. She shivered and moaned loudly as my tongue darted across her clit, sliding past, down through her lips to taste that sweet pussy for myself. I pulled my fingers from inside her and slid my tongue in. “Fucking shit she tastes so good. I could die here,” I thought to myself as my mouth made love to her pandora.

Her back arched further as my tongue entered her waiting hole, her hands clenching at the counters edge as I went to work on satisfying the most delicious pussy I had ever tasted. Reluctantly removing my tongue from her depths, I slid my middle and ring fingers inside her while I kissed and licked along her lips, up to her aroused clit, back down her lips and over her little pink asshole. I felt her body shudder as I circled her ass a few times and her hands landed on the back of my head, gripping my hair and holding me to her as I began to suck and lick on her clit. I worked my fingers inside her, finding her G spot as I flattened my tongue and licked up over her clit. “Fuuuuck,” she moaned out again. “Yes, right there. Oh God, don’t you fucking stop. That feels so fucking good.”

Her hands dropped to my back, nails digging in as she began to drag them up and down my skin, leaving red scratches along the way. I didn’t care. I loved it. She was letting me know that’s where I need to be, and she was loving the attention I was giving to her entire body.

“Mmmm, fuck, you taste so fucking good, I can see how much you need this,” I groaned as our eyes met while I devoured her. “Relax baby, let me show you paradise” I moaned between licks, “Fuck yes baby, give it to me, let me taste you.” This pushed her on further, building her closer and closer to the release she so desperately craved.

“Yes, baby, yes,” she screamed as I licked and sucked her horny clit, curling my fingers upwards into her G spot and fucking her pussy with abandon. “Fuck, I’m so close, keep going, don’t sto-“ And with that , she froze. Her mouth fell open, but she didn’t make a sound. Her eyes rolled back and her hands clasped the back of my head, holding me there while her hips bucked upwards and she fucked my face with her soaking pussy, riding my tongue to climax. Suddenly, the wave of arousal and desire pushed her over the edge and she screamed out as she came hard on my fingers, squirting uncontrollably, flooding my face and hand, her juices dripping to the floor while I desperately tried to lick up every last delicious drop of her.

As she came down from her intense orgasm, I slowly slid my fingers out of her, letting her catch her breath as I looked up at her. She was looking down on me, smiling and glowing. “Fucking wow,” she said. “Holy shit, I was not expecting that. You made me fucking squirt! What the fuck are you doing to me?” All I could think to say was “That was so hot. Watching you cum is the sexiest thing I have ever seen.”

“Come up here and do it again, then.” she said, “I need to taste me, and I have to have you inside me.” With her still seated on the edge of the counter, I rose to my feet and took her back in my arms, kissing her passionately. She licked my face and beard, getting every last drop of her orgasm. I felt her wrap her fingers around my rock-hard cock again and slowly stroke me as we kissed and licked each other. She slid the head up and down through her pussy lips, getting it coated in her remaining wetness, then in one move she wrapped her legs around me and pulled me in, guiding my throbbing tool inside her. “Oh fuuuck,” she moaned again, feeling the tip of my dick stretch open her tight pussy. Her head rolled back as I began to work my hard dick back and forth, going deeper and deeper with each slow thrust. I leaned forward and took her nipple in my mouth as I finally got my dick fully inside her.

“Fuck, that pussy feels so good, baby,” I moaned “You’re so fucking tight and wet.”

“It’s all for you, honey,” she moaned back. “You feel amazing inside me.”

Her pussy felt like velvet as it gripped me, pulling me in, urging me on for more. I leaned back and pulled her head forward so she could look down and see me pull out and slide the full 8 inches of my cock back inside her soaking pussy. “Holy shit,” she gasped, watching our hips meet “That’s fucking amazing.” Her head rolled back again as she was swept away in the desire and need for her new lover. But I wasn’t done yet, and I still needed my release.

I reluctantly pulled out of her delicious pussy and lifted her off the counter. Placing her feet on the floor, I spun her and pushed her shoulders forward, bending her in half over the counter as she stuck her ass out, instinctively knowing what I wanted. I gripped my throbbing tool in my hand and stepped forward, sliding it all the way inside her eager entrance in one thrust. “Fuck yes,” she groaned, feeling my hips meet her ass, burying myself inside her. “Yes, baby, just like that. Take me. Fuck me hard.”

At that, I grabbed her hips and thrust back into her, slamming my dick home over and over. Fuck, her words worked like magic on me. She was lighting a primal fire in me I hadn’t known before, stirring awake a long since gone version of myself that was lost to the years. I grabbed her hands, locking them behind her back as she collapsed to the counter, surrendering to my every whim and desire as I continued to pound that sweet pussy for all I was worth. Again and again, I crashed into her, filling and stretching that tight little pussy with my dick as she screamed out in ecstasy. “Yes, baby, yes!” she wailed as my dick assaulted her depths. “Just like that! Fuck that pussy!” she screamed out as she came again on my dick, egging me on and driving me closer to the edge of my own release. I reached around to rub her clit hard as I kept fucking her, her hips rising to meet mine with each thrust. She was screaming incoherent words as I took over her body, using her for my pleasure, satisfying her pussy and her clit at the same time as another wave of pleasure washed over her body.

I reached back and smacked that ass over and over, slamming the full length of my dick deep inside her each time, rearranging her insides. “Oh, fuck, I’m so fucking close,” I gasped. “Don’t…you…fucking….stop.” she wailed back between thrusts. “Cum…inside…me.”

And as if those were the magic words, with one last thrust, I hammered my dick home, I felt my balls tighten and my eyes go blurry. Somewhere in the distance I could hear her scream out my name as she came and squirted on my dick again. But I couldn’t focus on that, as my own orgasm had arrived. My head threw back as I growled out her name. “Oh fuck, Roberta, I’m fucking cumming!” I yelled as my dick twitched and erupted inside her depths, rope after rope shot into her waiting pussy, painting her insides with my hot cum, filling her up and leaking out around my dick to the floor.

Out of breath, I staggered back, sliding my cock out of her and collapsing onto a dining room chair, watching my cum leak down her thigh to the floor. “Oh, wow,” she gasped trying to lift herself from the counter, running her fingers over her well-fucked pussy. “Luke, that was fucking incredible,” she breathlessly said as she turned to me, scooping up what remained of me inside her with her fingers and licking it off.

She sat in my lap on that chair for what felt like hours as we both tried to regain composure. We held each other, exchanging kisses and smiles as we contemplating what had just happened, and both of us hoping this wouldn’t be the only time.