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I was returning home following a meeting with a prospective client. I am a freelance photographer and was feeling elated having secured the account, which was for the illustrations in his company’s new catalogue.

It was late July and very hot. The main road was very busy so I decided to use secondary roads and enjoy the fine weather. As the car climbed a slight hill and entered a long, sweeping bend, I noticed a splash of colour to my right. There was a grassy bank on my side, so I was able to pull off the road safely and walk back to investigate.

One corner of a wheat field was ablaze with the red of poppies. At the very edge of the field was a steep bank, topped by a high wall which I presumed was the boundary of a large new house which had built on the top of what passes for a hill in this very flat part of England.

The amateur photographer in me re-surfaced, I could never resist a good “chocolate box” shot. The land was no doubt private, but I would be doing no damage. I went back to the car for a camera and as I returned, I decided to seek permission from the house, just in case. There was no reply from the house and no sign of life, so I decided to risk trespassing.

I had been clicking away for about half an hour, when I was startled by a very authoritative female voice.

“What are you doing there?”

I could not see the body which belonged to the voice, I imagine that there must have been some kind of spy-hole, through which I was being observed. I explained my presence and apologised for my trespass, adding that I had knocked at the house but received no reply.

“Well, I suppose that it’s alright.”

Very cut-glass. A head popped up above the fence, dark glasses and a wide brimmed hat denied any kind of recognition.

“You look awfully hot, would you care for a cold drink?”

I had not realised just how hot I was, my shirt was pasted to my body by sweat. I thanked her and accepted her offer.

“There is a gate at the corner, she said, “give me two minutes.”

I found the gate, there was much clattering from inside and then the gate opened.

“It’s not often used. Hello, I’m Charlotte.”

She held out a tanned be-jewelled hand, I was not sure whether I should shake it or kiss it. I chose the former and introduced myself. Charlotte was tall, almost my height in her high heels. That was all the description I could muster, Apart from the hat and shades, she was covered, neck to ankles, by a white towelling robe.

She led me across an immaculate lawn, past the edge of a large swimming pool to a terrace, behind which was the house. I was in the presence of real wealth, even back in those days, a pile like that would command seven figures.

On the patio was a table with eight chairs and several of those poolside mattress things for sunbathing. Charlotte waved me to a chair, facing the house, back to the pool and in full sun. So much for cooling off. She sat opposite, I still could not see her face, dazzled as I was by the sun. I had the impression that I was being assessed.

The offered drink was welcome though, I drank it quickly and gratefully accepted a refill. She sipped at hers. She said nothing, just watched me through the dark lenses. I began to sweat even more. I pulled out a handkerchief to mop my face.

“You poor thing, she husked, “Would you like to swim?”

I replied that I would love to, but pointed out that I had no costume. She studied me for several seconds the spoke again, this time softer and lower.

“Then I shall avert my gaze.”

She did no such thing however, I knew that her unseen eyes were mocking. I stared back at my reflection in her glasses. A rivulet of sweat ran down my chest, causing me to twitch, she had won the stare-out. I stood and stripped, willing my cock not to betray my feigned indifference. I stood before her naked for several seconds, allowing her to inspect the goods, then turned and plunged into the pool.

The sudden coldness surprised me at first, but as my body cooled I began to enjoy it. I completed the length and turned, returning breast-stroke, head out of the water so that I could watch my saviour/tormentor. She must have risen as I turned back, because as I emerged from the far turn to make my second return length, I was treated to an undraped view of her as she dived gracefully into the pool. Was she……? No, surely not. Her costume must be flesh coloured.

As we passed in different directions, I could see that she was wearing a bathing cap, but a costume? She was swimming very fast, causing a great deal of turbulence. eryaman escort I turned again and increased my speed, thinking that I would catch up with her, but she swam just the two lengths and as I turned at the far end, she was hauling herself out of the water and yes, she was nude!

Have you ever tried swimming with a hard-on? It’s not easy. When I got back to the ‘home’ end, I stopped and watched her dry herself. I had a three-quarter rear view of her fine, tanned all-over body. The one breast in view was high, firm and full, in proportion with her tall slim figure. I watched, spellbound as she patted her lovely curves dry. She tossed the towel to the edge of the lounger, then sat, facing me, making no attempt to hide her considerable charms.

I guessed that she was thirty-something. Her body was athletic looking, but not over-muscled. A dancer perhaps? She pulled away the bathing cap to reveal short blonde hair. Natural, because it matched the sparse, untrimmed growth on her mound.

But the cleft which the hair is supposed to conceal, was anything but sparse, the long, pink outer lips of her slit protruding well beyond the pale wisps. She reached for her sun-tan oil, poured some into her cupped hand and began to anoint herself.

She began by oiling each arm, progressing onto her shoulders and neck and eventually to those bounteous tits. On, down her body to her long legs, each part getting the same loving care as the rest. It was more than simply applying sun protection, it was an act of self-love, whole body masturbation.

She was breathing faster, excited by her self massage. Her entire body seemed to glisten in the sunlight. She avoided touching the pouting lips of her cunt, but they gleamed anyway with the internal oil induced by her actions. My prick was trying to launch itself out of the water like a Polaris missile. She looked directly at me, challenging. Then held the bottle of oil towards me.

“Do my back.” She commanded.

I hauled myself out of the pool and stood dripping, rather self-consciously because of my quivering erection. She tossed a spare towel at my feet and watched as I dried myself. At no time did my cock show any sign of softening. When I was dry, I dropped the towel and took the sun-oil, she slowly turned over, hiding her frontal charms but revealing an equally desirable rear view.

I knelt alongside and uncapping the bottle, poured oil between her shoulder blades, then down along her spine to the little well at the top of the valley of her buttocks. She shuddered slightly. I dipped one finger into the well and drew it back along her spine to the nape of her neck, she was trembling in anticipation.

Gently, just with my fingertips, I began to massage her shoulders, then increased pressure so that I could feel the firm flesh moving beneath my touch. I slowly worked downwards towards first prize, allowing my fingers to dwell on the soft side swell of her breasts, pushed out by her prone position. Soon my hands were cupping and squeezing her bum-cheeks. She parted her legs slightly, giving a little growl as she moved, revealing the tight pucker of her anus and the long gash of her vulva, oily and shining, even without the application of sun-lotion.

She gasped as I pressed the ball of my thumb against her arse-hole and groaned as first one, then two fingers entered her sex cleft. She pushed back against my fingers, encouraging further exploration.

I pressed deeper with my thumb so that it entered up to the knuckle and added a third finger to the two now deep inside her cunt. She pushed back further, rising onto her knees and spreading her legs as wide as the sun-lounger would allow. I slipped my left hand under her and quickly found the stiff bud of her clit. I strummed the oily bead as my fingers worked in and out of her cunt and my thumb buried itself deeper in her arse. She began to shake, close to climax, faster and faster I rubbed and she came violently, crying out her passion.

My prick was pounding, the head of spunk built up my manipulation of this lovely woman, desperate for release. My foreskin had pulled right back, revealing my knob, the skin stretched and shining, it’s eye dribbling in anticipation. I knelt between her parted thighs, both holes seemed to by inviting entry. For long seconds I considered plunging full length into her arse-hole.

“Later.” My brain told me, “Later.”

Instead I aligned my probe with her cunt, then sank in gratefully, stopping only when my balls reached the back of her thighs. There was no resistance to my invasion, only when I was sincan escort fully engaged did her hole grip my shaft, denying release.

Despite the ambient temperature, she felt hot around my cock, I savoured the heat and tightness of her sheath, it’s muscles clutching me like a fist. I could not possibly last long, but why should I? She had had her come, now it was my turn.

But supposing she did not want seconds? It would be nice to prolong the pleasure just in case. Experience has taught me that when I am highly aroused, although the gentlest friction can bring me off, violent movements can sometimes have the opposite effect.

With this in mind I pulled almost out of her then rammed back hard. She gave a yelp of surprise, then responded in kind, pushing back hard against my thrusts as I pounded my meat into hers.

The trick worked to some extent and I was able to fuck her hard for a short time, but nothing could stop the inevitable. I slowed my thrusts, making them deeper, ready to pour my tribute into her. As the juice rushed up my shaft, I rammed back hard into her. Whether by accident or design, Charlotte fell forward onto the mattress, disengaging me.

My spurts sprang from me to land on her back, covering her from arse to neck with grey/white streaks. She lay convulsing under the shower of semen, she had had a second orgasm. I was so intent on taking my own pleasure that I had not noticed her rising climax, my final great thrust, combined with her delirious state, had unbalanced her. It had not been intended.

Charlotte lay panting. She looked delicious, debauched but wonderful. There is no better sight than a beautiful woman soaked in spunk. My prick drooped to half-mast but I knew that it would be up for another round if challenged. Abigail half tuned to face me.

“I do not remember consenting to that, she said softly, “that was rape.”

“No, I just gave you the good fucking you were begging for.” I retaliated.

She smiled, the first time I had seen her smile, it was more of a sly grin.

“Didn’t you just, but generally I prefer it on the inside.

She nodded towards drooping Thomas.

“Is there any more where all of that came from?”

“Suck it and see.” I replied in hope.

She rose from the lounger and took me by the hand, leading me towards the house. Almost the entire side of the house was glass. As we approached, sliding panels hissed open, some kind of sensor perhaps? The doors slid closed behind us as we entered the house, it was blissfully cool, air-conditioned. We were in a large bedroom.

She led me past the bed, through a well appointed dressing room and into a bathroom. Or rather a shower room, a wet-room in fact. The walls were black marble, veined with amber, the fittings were gold. There was no shower screen, the whole room was a shower. Charlotte touched a button in the wall and the shower jets, lots of them, pointing sideways and up, as well as a main overhead unit, began to hiss. She pulled on a shower cap and stepped into the spray pulling me with her.

I was surprised by the power of the jets, they pulsed rather than just squirted, quite erotic actually. Charlotte went to controls, reduced the power and changed the pulses to a steady stream, I took the opportunity to reach round and take a tit in each hand, it was my first opportunity to hold them, feel their weight, cup them and enjoy the feel of the stiff nipples pushing back at my palms.

She pushed back at me, my prick pressed against her bum cleavage. She turned her head and offered her mouth for a kiss, another first, my mouth fed on hers as my hands moulded the pliable mounds of her full breasts.

Our coupling outside had been raw sex, brutal. No, not brutal, animal. We saw, we sniffed, we fucked. Even the position had been animal. Now was the time for subtlety. She pulled away and handed me a bar of soap, I delighted in washing her, my soapy fingertips lovingly caressed every millimetre of her faultless skin. The shower washed away the soap as I applied it and I followed my fingers with my lips, exploring every crevice.

When I got to her cleft, I fed on it as I had her other mouth, she pulled my head into her, grinding her sex against my mouth until she came. I stood, she turned her back on me and pushed her arse out, I got the message and pushed my erection between her buttocks, she reached down and fed it into her.

I began to thrust gently into her, I once again reached round to allow my hands free reign on her tits, she turned her head for kisses, then, leaning forward reached batıkent escort under to cup my balls in her hand, with the other she wanked herself off, coming quickly and fiercely. I could feel her spasms through my deeply embedded tool.

When her climax subsided, she pushed me away from her, uncoupling. She quickly knelt before me and took my prick into her mouth, feeding it right back, tickling my knob with her tonsils. I was in heaven. She pulled back to start what is probably the most expert blow job of my life. Time and time again she took me to the brink, only to pull back when she sensed the impending cream mouthful. Just when I thought that I must come or burst, she stood up and tuned off the shower.

“I want it inside me.” She explained.

Drying each other was another triumph of eroticism. When we were dry I picked her up and carried her to the bed.

I was bursting to have her again. I lay on the bed, hoping that she would mount me, cowgirl style, but she straddled me, tete a queue and continued where she had left off with her fellation. She kissed and licked every bit of my genitals. One second she was licking my shaft, then the tip of her tongue was being forced into the tiny hole. She would suck hard on just my knob, controlling the suck with her hand, then she would engulf the whole throbbing length with her clever mouth, her nose against my balls.

They were not neglected, each was treated to a lavish sucking, but it was her lips around my prick that caused most pleasure. I was desperate to come, flood her wanton mouth with my seed, but she had indicated her wish to have it pumped into the other place.

That other place was right before my face, perhaps I could control my orgasm if I concentrated on tonguing her hole. I tried to forget what was happening at the other end of the bed and treated her to the best sucking I could manage, kiss, suck, lick, bite. I pulled her inner lips into my mouth, pushed my tongue up her as far as I could reach, gnawed at her clit with my teeth, covered her entire cuntal area with my mouth, sucking and blowing. Every part was treated to every trick, she was pouring juice which I lapped up like a kitten.

I moved my mouth and pushed my tongue as far up her arse as I could. She let go of my cock and screamed as she came, writhing wildly on the bed.

When she came off her peak she turned her self round and lay back on the bed.

“Fuck me now.” She demanded.

Oh! How she was going to get her wish. Up to now she had been very much in charge. Now I was going to fuck her ’till she begged for mercy. She was positioned ready, legs apart, knees raised, the classic ‘shag me’ pose, her man-trap beckoning.

I climbed between her thighs and she guided the beast into her cavern. It was like slipping into oiled silk. I raised myself off her and pinned her wrists above her head and began to pound at her without mercy. She wrapped her legs around me pulling me close as I stabbed at her. There was no way I could out-fuck this sex machine, she came again, I could feel her cunt-juice wetting my balls.

I gave in, let myself go, firing volley after volley of my precious fluid up her insatiable hole. I was exhausted, I rolled off, my cock filleted and soft. I lay on my back panting. My rest was shattered by a deep, plummy male voice.

“Has he made you nice and wet my dear?”

I leapt from the bed, fearing a shotgun up my arse. Where the fuck had he come from? ‘He’ was standing on the far side of the large bed. He was in his 50’s, quite tall, fit looking with greying hair at his temples and on his chest. He was bollock naked.

Standing out from a bush of dark pubic hair was the biggest prick I have ever seen outside of the horse of the year show. It was fully erect and he was wanking it vigorously. Charlotte spoke, but not in the voice that I had been hearing, she was all girly, coo-ey.

“Oh yes my darling, just look.”

She was pulling her cunt lips wide open, her well was brimming with my spunk, dribbling out into her arse-crack.

“Come and put your big stick in me.”

He did just that, to my amazement Charlotte’s well fucked cunt took all of the monster without hesitation. I swear that I could hear the squelch as the huge thing slid effortlessly home. I was rooted to the spot, I watched as his arse began to move rhythmically between Charlotte’s wide spread thighs.

Had he been watching the whole time? He was clearly one of those people who gets off on seeing their partner fucked by other men. He turned his head and addressed me.

“If you wish, young man, you may bugger my arse.”

The young man did not wish. I bolted, quickly dressed and with Charlotte’s orgasmic cries ringing in my ears, ran across the lawn, through the gate and to my car, which I drove like a maniac all the way home.

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