I was stretched out, precariously balanced, one foot on the ladder and the other stretched to a foot hold in the hedge. I saw her walking towards me and watched as she climbed the ladder.
I was sure her dressing gown was a few sizes too small. One hand held her dressing gown together at the top while the other tried not to spill the glass of cordial she held. It was miraculous to watch as she climbed without using her hands, she used her elbows for balance, maintained her modesty and didn't spill a drop of cordial. She stretched the glass out to me and said,
"Here you are!" With a thank you I put down the hedge trimmers, took it and started to drink. Suddenly she said,
"Hold still! Don't move! Stay as you are! I can see a spider!" and her hands were on my thighs pulling them apart, trying to get to it.
"Where did it go?" she was saying.
"Hold still, very still!" Her hand was up the leg of my shorts.
I didn't move because spiders have always worried me. I could feel her fingers on my balls, she gently moved them around. For a moment I thought she was weighing them, measuring them, stretching them down to the bottom of their sack, checking the elasticity of the skin. I guess they were a little too hairy for efficient spider hunting. It felt very strange and she said,
"Can't see it now, don't move!" Her hand was around my dick and she tried to move it, but it stood straight up and felt as hard as steel. As she moved her hand the skin on my dick moved. I looked at her and could see a whole breast. She pulled my dick out from inside the shorts.
"Keep very still," she whispered and her hands held me, one hand around my dick, the other held my balls, soft, insistent hands.
"Very still," her voice quiet as her hand tried to move my dick searching for the spider. I could see her breast, so round and white with its nipple standing like a monument on a mountain. Her hand moved on my dick as it searched. Up, down, up, down, a rhythm, the skin of my dick slid along its length; up, my foreskin assembled to cover the head, down and the foreskin stretched down my dick with the tender head exposed. Her breast joined the rhythm as it gently rolled from side to side.
There was a pause and I felt her fingers touch the head of my dick. They found the slit at the top, traced around the purple roundness and sent electric shocks through my body. Her nipple jutted out as though it was looking too.
One hand softly squeezed my balls while the other resumed the rhythm. The skin on my dick moved faster this time with her grip firmer and the strokes longer. Her breast hung outside of her gown and bounced with the rhythm. Her hands were a blur, they moved so fast. I thought she might be worried that if they were still the spider could sneak up and bite them. Her face looked determined with lines of concentration on her forehead and around her eyes. Her mouth was open and I could feel her deep breaths as they ruffled the hair around my balls. Both of her hands were on my dick and together they were going up and down.
It felt strange, I was afraid of the spider and what it could do to me. I was more worried about what my dick would do if the spider wasn't found very soon.
So much stimulation, my dick was hard and stiff and her hands kept sliding rapidly up and down. I heard her grunt and her whole body seemed to be concentrated on its task. Up and down, her hands continued to fly, they were warm and her grip was firm.
Her other breast was barely covered by the dressing gown, the belt stayed in place to keep it there but I could see the knot loosening. I saw her nipple leave its track on the dressing gown as her breast bounced.