Emma sat in the secluded Gazebo, escaping from the crowd for a few minutes. The gazebo had been a pleasant surprise in her wondering stroll through the large garden. Emma watched the shadow's dance in dusk's false light, hearing the sound of the party in full swing drifting across the low hedges as she rested.
The party was just one more in the long line of summer distractions that John's work forced them to attend. The guests were generally the same crowd, although Emma had noticed one or two new faces in the crush of arriving. Emma wondered if any of the new ones would prove interesting, the hope of them providing more was only a dim thought.
Her mind drifting back to the start of the evening Emma sighs as she recalls the quick and for her fruitless lovemaking prior to preparing for the party. John had come home in one of his moods, she had seen it as soon as he had walked in the door. Dressed in a dressing gown following her shower she had known what would happen almost instantly.
As soon as John had seen her, her naked body barely covered by the short gown he had pulled her to him and kissed her, forcing his tongue into her mouth as his hands had pulled open her gown. Her body reacted in its usual fashion to his urgent advances her juices flowing almost instantly. Her groan as he kissed her was as much for the frustration she knew would follow as for the sexual stimulus that his groping hands brought.
Her fears proved true as he had pushed her back onto the couch, he did not even bother removing his pants as he released his rock hard shaft, thrusting it into her without any further attempts to bring her any satisfaction. Emma wondered which of the typing pool had triggered this particular attack on her self-esteem. John, normally a considerate lover had admitted after one of his previous attacks that he had been fantasying about a new typist at work most of the day.
Emma simply lay back biting her lip as he pounded into her, trying but failing to stop her own body from reacting, knowing that it he was not going to last long enough to bring about her own orgasm. Her prediction had proved true as after only a few thrusts he had exploded inside her, his seed shooting into her as he grunted his way through orgasm.
He had made the usual apologies afterwards of course but that did nothing to relieve the frustration he had left her with. The need to prepare for the party meant of course that she could not take the time to relieve that frustration through any other method either. This meant Emma was in a high state of excitement and was the reason for the retreat to the gazebo. Emma felt a slight chill on her shoulders as the breeze brushed over her exposed skin, her strapless party dress providing little cover. Glancing at her watch Emma realises that John would be looking for her soon, her short respite from the hubbub of fake smiles and false sincerity could not last much longer.
Standing Emma looks around once more at the peaceful garden realising that darkness was quickly descending. Walking along the path leading back to the house, Emma stops to light a cigarette not needing to conceal her whereabouts any longer. Flicking the lighter proves futile either the breeze prevents it from lighting or she needed to fill it. Just as Emma decided to return the cigarette to the elegant case from which it was extracted a lighter flared in front of her. Jumping at the sudden burst of light Emma glances up to see a stranger offering her the flame, smiling Emma leans forward and sucks the cigarette to life.
'Thank you' Emma draws deeply on the slim tube of tobacco letting the smoke drift out of her mouth as she speaks. The man simply nodded his head as he returned the lighter to his pocket, standing there silently as he seemed to stare straight into her soul.
Fumbling to return her own lighter to her small purse, Emma's nerveless fingers failed to hold onto the small silver lighter and she gasped as it fell to the ground. Before she could react the man had bent down and picked up the fallen object. Without standing he handed it up to her, in the darkening garden Emma could only sense the smile as she retrieved the lighter and dropped it into her purse.
Emma stood waiting expecting the man to stand once more, ready to thank him for a second time. Instead she gasped as she felt his hand stroke her bare leg below the knee length dress. Her mind spun in turmoil at the unexpected touch, her body stiffening but not moving away from the softly stroking hand. Emma glances around as the fingers brush over her flesh, realising that the hip high hedge next to her conceals from view not only the action but the man himself from anyone who is not on the short path they both occupy.
