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. 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 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.
