Enids Erotic Fantasy

"My name is Enid."

I am twenty-six years old, and people say I am attractive.

My breasts are large, but not overtly large, my hips and stomach are still firm and in shape, after having two children, Lesley, a Girl, aged eight, and David, six conceived accidentally.

I have been in a boring marriage for a few years now, due to me suffering postnatal depression after the birth of David, and my Husband working long hours building up his engineering business.

My Husband Stanley is thirty.

I married him when I was seventeen, and I have been faithful to him throughout my married life, a virgin on my wedding day.

I never thought of straying from my Husband and vowed I would always be faithful to him.

We have a nice home, and a comfortable lifestyle.

I should be content with what I have, but at times frustration overcomes me, and I just mope around the house most days, doing the chores.

I have a firm body due to following an aerobics program on the TV every morning.

The highlight of my mornings is doing these aerobics every weekday, and on Wednesday's, watching Tom the gardener working on our Gardens and hedges.

One Wednesday, a few months ago, I was leaving my kitchen to hang out some laundry on the line.

I came out of the door to walk up the side of the house to the garden, and not looking, I accidentally bumped into Tom, bumping our heads together.

Strong hands grabbed my waist and pulled me into his body, as I dropped the laundry basket on the floor, spilling some laundry on the path.

I looked at Tom, spluttering my apologies, to find not Tom but another man holding me.

"Are you alright?" he said still holding on to my waist.

"Yes", yes," I spluttered, looking directly at this gorgeous hunk of manhood holding me tight.

"W what, who, who are you?" I spluttered, as I gazed directly into his piercing eyes.

"Horace, Horace, my friends call me Horace," he said.

"Well, who, what, what are you doing here?" I muttered incoherently.

Puzzled, I asked him, "Why are you in my garden?"

"Ohhh, right, sorry I should have introduced myself, and let you know I was here," he said, looking me straight into my eyes.

"I'm Horace, I have taken over my Uncle's gardening business," he started to explain.

"My Uncle Tom, I'm his Nephew," he continued.

"I haven't seen you before," I said.

"I have just come out of the Army,' he said smiling, "The Airborne."

"Tom waited till my service finished before retiring, so I could take over his Business."

"The Para's," I said, already impressed by his looks and physique.

"I bet that was exciting, jumping out of Parachutes."

My heart was pounding.

He laughed, "People get killed jumping out of Parachutes, it's best to keep them on when you jump out of aircraft," he joked.

Letting go of my arms and taking off his gardening gloves, he bent down and said, "Let me help you," and picking up the basket, "It's the least I can do," he offered.

"No, it's," stopping myself in mid sentence, "Ok," accepting his offer, I said, "Thanks."

My body was beginning to shake, as it told my brain to keep him near me a while longer.

I picked up the few bits that had dropped onto the floor, and walked by his side to the garden.

I could feel his eyes on me as I reached up to hang out the laundry on the line.

I was wearing a summer dress that came down below my knees, and was fastened up to my neck.

As I reached up, I knew he would not be able to see much exposed flesh, only my legs.

He began handing me bits of clothing to hang on the line, and as he passed me my panties, I was sure I saw him rubbing the crotch of them, between his fingers.

The same thing happened with my bras; he had two fingers inside the cups, as he would if he was pulling them down over my nipples, before caressing them.

I finished hanging out the clothes and turned to him and said "It's warm, would you like a drink?"

"Beer, Lemonade, or Tea?" I enquired.

"No beer, Lemonade will be fine, I don't drink when I'm working," he informed me.

I walked into the house, unsteadily, my body on fire.

I made his drink, and took it out to him.

I was mesmerized as I watched his chest flex as he lifted his arm, and drank the Lemonade.

His muscles rippled, and I was getting turned on, imagining me writhing in sexual pleasure underneath his body.

"My name is Enid," I told him.

"Yes I know, married, with two children, pleased to meet you," he said, offering his hand.

I took his hand in mine, and shook it.

My senses were on fire, I was holding his flesh.

He knew what my name was, and what my family consisted of.

"How do you know?" I asked him.

"Uncle Tom told me, I have to know my customers."

"Your house is on my list for Wednesday, but yours is the last, so when I've done you, I can go home," he said, letting my hand free.

I didn't want him to let go.

I wanted him to keep holding my hand.

I wanted him to hold my body, especially after he said, "When he had done me he could go home."

I looked at his virile body and imagined him doing me.

Doing me in my bed.

Taking the glass from him, and to break the spell I seemed to be under, I walked back into the house.

I imagined I could feel his eyes burning into my body as I walked into the kitchen.

Closing the door, I turned and placed my back to it, breathing out a huge sigh, trying to release the sexual tension that had built up while I was close to him.

I stayed in that position for a while, until my breathing and senses had returned to normal.

I half rushed upstairs to see if I could get another glimpse of him while he worked.

I hid behind the net curtains, sure in the knowledge that he couldn't see me watching him.

I watched as he worked around the lawn digging at the edges, moving earth further on, with his powerful arms.

As I watched him work on the garden, I began to run my hands over my breasts, squeezing them, and teasing my nipples.

Mesmerised with his well-proportioned, and muscular body, I involuntary drifted down to my crotch, rubbing my twitching pussy over my dress.

Still watching him, and fantasising, I lifted my dress and slipped my hand inside my panties, gently caressing my pussy and clitoris.

I was turned on.

I watched him walk behind the tree at the end of the garden.

I suddenly realised as he undid his trousers, he was going to take a pee.

Taking his cock out, he began to pee in full view of me, although he must have thought he was hidden from my sight.

I leaned forward, right up close to the window, not wanting to have my view restricted.

He held his cock in his hands, it was massive, a good three inches was hanging over his hand, and I had noticed he had large hands.

I estimated that his cock was a good seven, eight, or even nine inches long.

I had no idea a man's cock could be so huge.

I masturbated furiously, as I watched him release his fluid, and I orgasmed right there, in front of the window, hidden by the net curtains.

I watched as he fastened himself up, and moved to collect his tools together.

I was on fire.

My body tingled, my mind raced.

I wandered around the bedroom as if in a daze.

Just then I heard a shout, "Mrs Graham? Mrs Graham? Enid," he shouted.

I ran down the stairs, and taking in a huge gulp of air, I began opening the door.

"Yes, I'm here, what's wrong?" I asked, once again peering at his muscular body, and piercing eyes.

"Nothing's wrong," he said.

"I'm going now, I just wanted to let you know I'll see you next Wednesday."

"Ok," I said, watching him as he walked away.

I was still watching him, as he loaded his equipment into his truck.

My next-door Neighbour's Daughter passed by his truck, and he stopped loading to look at her.

She was openly flaunting herself at him, dressed in a mini skirt, and a short tight top.

She was exposing plenty of flesh, and wiggling as she walked seductively past him.

I was on heat for him, and I was jealous of her for grabbing his attention.

"Bitch," I said under my breath looking at her walking past.

"Bastard," I whispered to myself, watching him looking at her.

My jealous rage continued.

"You want to see flesh, I'll give you flesh," I muttered to myself

Still muttering to myself, "You just wait, Horace, you Bastard, I'll show you sexy dressing," I vowed to myself.

I watched him drive away, driving away from my view of him, but leaving me with my fantasy.

My mind was racing, as I began to develop a fantasy involving him.

Short skirts, tight tops, exposed flesh, would from now on be my Wednesday attire.

I went upstairs into my closet and began looking for suitable, or rather unsuitable clothes to wear the next time he came.

I picked my shortest skirt I had, put it on, and looking at it decided it wasn't short enough.

I got some scissors and cut six inches off the bottom, put it on and decided still not short enough.

I cut a further two inches off, and tried it on again.

I looked in the mirror, it was short, just covering my behind, I was pleased, and plenty of leg was showing.

I picked a top out, low cut off the shoulder, put it on, and admired myself.

As I looked at myself my fantasy started to develop.

It would relive the boredom for the next few days, as instead of drudgingly doing the daily chores I would rush around the house doing the housework before settling down to develop my fantasy, my fantasy of me and Horace making love, fucking.

I lay on the bed in my clothes I had chosen, the clothes, or rather the style of what I would wear when we fucked.

It was my fantasy, and I was enjoying it, planning, and arranging how, and where we would do it.

We would do it in my bed, with the light shining through the windows, reflecting on his body.

I began to caress myself as I thought back to his strong hands holding me, when I bumped into him.

I fantasized that he had me pushed up against the wall, kissing and caressing my body.

As I pulled my skirt up, I imagined his hand lifting my skirt up, fingering my pussy, and then pushing his cock into me.

As I masturbated, I visualized him using me, raping me, fucking me.

I have always fantasised about simply being taken by a man, any man.

My fantasy now involved Horace, Horace, taking me, using me silently.

I fantasised that he wouldn't say anything.

He would just take me, use me, and then when he had finished, push me away like a used Slut, without words being spoken.

My fingers continued to stroke my pussy as I squirmed and bucked against them, as I orgasmed.

I felt the flow of juices over my fingers, as lay on my bed, remembering, and thinking about his cock.

When I was finished I sat up feeling drained but satisfied.

My family came home together.

My Husband always picked the children up from school.

I was still upstairs when they came in, still engrossed in formulating my fantasy.

I returned to domesticity quickly, changing my clothes ready to greet my family.

I went downstairs and prepared a meal for them.

All through dinner I was planning, thinking, revising my thoughts, so much my Husband commented that I "Seemed far away."

To break the spell, and not let my Husband begin to question me, I said, "We have a new Gardener, did you know?"

"Yes," he said, "Tom's Nephew, Ex Airborne, good looking I'm told."

"Good looking? Good looking?" I thought to myself, "Fucking gorgeous more like."

My mind once again raced back to our encounter, as I said to Stanley, "Some women might think so," in an effort to hide the effect Horace had on me.

Stanley laughed.

All through the evening meal I formulated my fantasy.

We would do it in my bed, in my house.

I would be dressed as revealing as possible, without losing my decorum, or appearing tarty, or Sluttish.

That night I made love to Stan, or rather had sex with him, but thought of Horace.

The next morning saw me at the Mall, looking at, and buying clothing, and shoes.

Mini skirts, tops, and anything my fantasy told me to be wearing.

I bought new bedclothes, white satin sheets, pillowcases and duvet cover.

I would change the bed every Wednesday morning.

I would in future put Horace's bed sheets, as I began to call them, on the bed every time he was due to work in the garden.

Every day I would do my aerobics, shower, and prepare the bed and myself, adding or changing things as my fantasy took hold, and was formulated.

On the day before Horace was due to "Do me," as he said, I had things well in advance.

After practicing all week, I got the preparation time down to one hour thirty minutes.

From the time my Husband and children left for work, to me being dressed and made up, ready for my Lover, with Lemonade ready in the icebox, and laundry ready to hang out, totalled two hours tops.

Horace was due after lunch, as he said when he had done me, his workday was over.

All though the practices, and the preparation, I played with myself, always bringing myself to orgasm.

At last the day arrived, a warm sunny day, a day I should be sunbathing in the garden after my aerobics.

I told myself next time at the Mall, to buy a skimpy bikini, to flaunt myself in front of him.

I had seen my family off to work and school, and I had done my aerobics, showered, and prepared my fantasy Lover's bed.

Now it was time to get myself ready.

As I was preparing myself, ready for Horace, I stood naked in front of the mirror admiring myself.

I am tall and slender, with long hair.

My breasts are full and my dark pink nipples point slightly upward.

My flat stomach curves down into the swollen mound puffing out from between my legs and covered with soft brown curls.

I was feeling very sexy.

I pulled on a pair of tiny black lace panties and a matching low cut bra that pushed up my breasts.

Then I put on a tight black miniskirt and finally a thin red top that showed the swells of my breasts and a large amount of skin between my skirt and blouse.

I had tried stockings with the outfit, and although I had bought a pair of hold ups that the tops did not show under my skirt, I did not wear them, the weather being too warm.

I fake tanned my legs, and arms, to complete the look I had chosen.

I waited...!

As I waited I still formulated my fantasy.

I would be wearing a thong, and as he pulled them down I would lift my right leg up make it easier for him to slip one side over my foot.

My left leg would be raised when he slipped the thong off completely, exposing my pussy to him.

A loud bang woke me from my fantasy dream, and I looked out of the kitchen window and saw Horace behind his truck, getting off a lawn mower.

He was here...!

My heart pounded, the fantasy was at this moment turning into reality.

Everything I had planned could now take place if I wanted it to.

If I flaunted myself enough...! If I worked on his senses...! He would drop everything and rush over to take me, and ravish me.

I went out with the laundry.

He was mowing the lawn as I reached the garden; he stopped and greeted me with a casual wave.

I began hanging the laundry on the line, making sure my underwear usually placed at the back, was predominantly to the front, in full view of his staring eyes.

As I hung the washing out, I was on fire.

I imagined I could feel his eyes burning into me.

Every time I reached down to get more laundry to hang out I sneaked a glimpse.

I loved what I saw, his strong muscular body, rippling as he worked.

When I had finished hanging out the Laundry, I looked at him and smiled.

I felt hot, and put an extra sway in my walk, as I went inside the house.

I dashed upstairs to my bedroom, and I ran to the window and watched him work for a while, caressing my breasts as I watched.

I moved my hands down to my pussy, intent on bringing myself to an orgasm while I watched him.

I saw him walk to the washing line, finger my black panties, pull them to him and smell the crotch.

I exploded...!

He seemed to take another big sniff, letting them go they twanged on the line.

My orgasm came intensely, powerfully.

Juice ran down my legs, and I moved back from the window, and lay on the bed, my fingers grinding furiously over my clit.

My mouth stuffed with the end of my pillow to stifle my moans.

Another phase had now entered the equation, now I would put out a thong next time and see if he'd sniff that.

I usually lay for ages after I have had an orgasm, but today I got up straight away to continue looking at him.

I went downstairs to the kitchen, got out the Lemonade, and took it out to him.

"Would you like a drink?" I asked him, my knees trembling.

"Yes please," he said, taking the offered drink, touching my hand as he did so.

"You look different than last week, I like what you're wearing today, and looking at me he said, "Very nice, very nice."

"Which is the real you?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"What you were wearing last week is different to this week," he said.

"So which is the real you?"

"Dressing dowdy, or sexy looking?" he questioned.

Flustered, I couldn't answer.

"I, I wear, I don't know, it depends," I said, when I did manage to speak.

"Ah" I see," he said, laughing, "You dress like you are now, for your Gardener?"

"You dress like that so that your Gardener can't get any work done," he chortled.

"No, I," I was trying to find an excuse, he was right I was dressed like this for him.

"I dress like this because I still can, I think I'm still attractive," I said.

"You're beautiful, really beautiful," he said, adding, "Your Husband is a lucky man."

"Thank you," I said blushing.

He took his glove off, held my face in his hand, and he leaned down and kissed me.

It wasn't a passionate kiss, but it could have been if either of us had pressed on hard enough.

I trembled at his touch, my body melting.

"Sorry," he said, "That was out of order, forgive me."

Then he said, "But you do look nice, it's been a long time since I was close to a pretty Woman."

He coughed, "I had better be going, please accept my apologies."

With that he turned and walked to his tools, picked them up and loaded them onto his truck.

I wanted to scream out "Stay, don't go," I wanted more touches, and more kisses.

I wanted him...

His truck pulled out of the drive, and drove away leaving me, bewildered and confused, and wanting him to come back.

I realised then, at that instant, that I wanted my fantasy to be a reality.

I went into the house, and after calming down, began to return the house and myself to normal.

Until my family came home, I walked around the house dreaming of his kiss, and fantasising about him.

My fantasy was becoming an obsession, an obsession I needed to fulfil.

I was ready for my family to return home, the bed was changed, and I was dressed normally, the clothes, Horace's clothes, as I started to think of them, were put away.

My Husband was the first in the door, followed by the children.

I fussed over them, trying to put my thoughts of Horace in the background.

The phone rang, my Husband answered it, and I heard my Husband talking, sometimes just saying, "Yes, yes"

Then something was said about the tree, and then my Husband hung up.

"Who was that?" I asked.

"Horace, the Gardener," he said.

"He says our tree needs trimming down! I've told him he can do it when he wants."

The rest of the night was spent quietly, watching TV, me deep in thought about Horace!

As soon as my Family left in the morning I set off in my car for the Mall.

I was looking at clothes, intent on buying a skimpy bikini, and anything else that would assist in my fantasy.

I saw a silver sheen bikini, which I tried on, as I looked at myself in the mirror, I pictured myself on a recliner, sunning myself as Horace rubbed my body with sun lotion.