Cutting through the cemetery will be much more pleasant than walking along the road.
Lovely morning again, sun's shining and there's a warm breeze.
I turn left into the cemetery grounds and begin following the path through; looking left and right at the headstones I don't see her approaching from the opposite direction until I hear the sound of footsteps. Looking up I see her coming towards me, the coffee shop girl from last week.
She's wearing her denim jacket again but this time with a tee-shirt and a short pleated skirt, she has a brown, leather tote bag slung over one shoulder and is carrying a childs scooter. She isn't as harassed looking as the last time I'd seen her but she was clearly in a rush to get somewhere.
She's looking directly at me and is smiling in recognition, she'd obviously seen me before I'd seen her and wasn't embarrassed by it.
We stopped, facing each other.
"Hi, how are you?
I laughed, "I'm good thanks. You?"
She giggled, "To be honest, I'm still buzzing from last week."
This straight out admission caught me slightly off guard "Oh....."
"But you didn't text me?"
The slight lift in her voice at the end made it a question and it put me a little bit on the defensive, "Erm......it was only 4 days ago, and despite what you said I was in a little bit of a quandary as to whether or not you really wanted me to. Heat of the moment and all that."
She smiled, "I know, I was only teasing and I did want you to."
I laughed again, any tension I'd felt gone.
"No kids or......?"
"Nope, both back at school yesterday and the 'or' is at work." She said this last sentence with a degree of pleasure, she was clearly relishing the time to herself.
I suddenly felt I needed to say, "I don't do that sort of thing on a regular basis you know." So I did.
She laughed, "It should think not, think you'd find yourself arrested or beaten up by some irate partner! But I'm very glad you did, but why did you pick on me?"
I shrugged, "It was just our eye contact, just seemed to mean something more than the usual. And how many times do people play the eye contact game then think back and realise that it could have actually gone somewhere."
For a second there was a pause in the conversation and, just as I felt she was about to make her excuses and go, I stepped forward, took the scooter out of her hand, spun her around and pulled her towards the far corner of the cemetery and the large yew tree there.
Instantly realising what was about to happen she moaned and pulled back, "I really don't have time."
I looked back at her, "That's what you said last time, and yes you do."
She pulled back for a second longer, looked around, laughed, then, with a muttered, "Oh God!" gave in.
I turned back and continued towards the tree, she, still with her hand in mine, followed.
As I reached the tree I glanced over my shoulder, still nobody else around.
The tree was huge, the trunk at least 3 metres in diameter, and probably hundreds of years old. I lead her around it into the shady corner of the cemetery and, putting the scooter on the ground, turn her to the tree. After slipping her bag off her shoulder and placing it by the scooter I step up against her back.
She groans, then, in a whisper, "I really, really don't have the time, supposed to be meeting a girlfriend for coffee."
Putting my hands on her hips and my face next to hers I whisper back, "Well, you'll have a tale to tell her won't you. Put your hands on the tree."
After a moment's pause she lifts her hands and, at arm's length, places them on the yew.
I slip my hands up under her tee-shirt onto her warm tummy, up and cup her plump breasts in the palms of my hands, gently squeeze them through her bra, a shiver runs through her, her breathing quickens.
I slip one hand around her back and, pinching her bra fastener together, release her breasts. My hand slides back around and I massage both her boobs, roll her nipples under my palms and between my fingers. Tease them into hard nubs.
"Oh fuck, I like that. Harder."
I oblige. Pinch them, squeeze them. Roll them under my palms.
She drags her breath through her teeth, rubs her bum against my groin, my hard throbbing cock pushing against the crack of her arse.
Drop one hand down, lift her skirt and expose her knickers. Hand slides round, down between her thighs, feel the outline of her labia, rub my middle finger up and down, a dampness starts, a heat. I pull her back against me, press my hand into her body, my groin against her bum.
Slip my hand upwards onto her tummy then back down inside her knickers; that familiar feeling of her short crinkly hair, a couple of circles over her pussy with my fingertips before my middle finger dips in and lightly strokes up and down the length of her puffy outer lips.
She's groaning now and rhythmically pushing her bum back against my hips, the outline of my cock still pressing between her buttocks.
Her pussy gets wetter and wetter as I stroke my finger up and down, push in a little more and find her entrance, rub round the edges then sink my finger in as far as it will go and at the same time push the heel of my hand against her clit, she sucks her breath in through her teeth and squeezes against my intrusion.
Slide my finger in and out a few times then ease my hand up her body; finger slips out of her, the length of it rubs along her clit until just the tip is in contact, rub round it, feel it swell.
Rub up and down three or four times building the sensitivity.
Then I start to play on it; start the tapping, very slowly at first but gradually increasing the pace; unlike our last encounter, this time I keep changing the rhythm, speeding up then slowing down, a few seconds of very fast then a couple of very slow taps then very fast again, but not stopping and all the time bringing her closer and closer to orgasm.
As I continue my attack on her cliteris the sensations start to overwhelm her. She tries to keep her hands on the tree but, as her knees and elbows start to buckle, her body begins to collapse and her weight falls onto my arm. I hear a humming from the back of her throat, feel a fluttering in her tummy then her head drops and she starts to shake.
I slow and stop my finger and hold her against me as she goes through her orgasm, listen to her gasping breath, try to experience what she is experiencing, feel what she is feeling.
After a couple of minutes her shaking subsides and she starts to regain her balance, to find her feet, her breathing slows and she takes her own weight.
