Evora The Lounger

Tags: BDSM, Fsub, Mdom, Bondage, Oral, Blowjob, Cum swallow, Voyeurism

I hadn't been back to the Beach's villa since being witness to Jane Beach's whipping. I never spoke a word about it to anyone, but from that night onwards it occupied my thoughts more than I'd willingly admit. When I was sunbathing I'd remember the way she was posed. When I was watering plants I'd recall her under the cool spray. And so many times when I masturbated alone at night I'd remember her tensing muscles and her release as she orgasmed.

The problem was that Mr Beach was often having work done on his garden, and the excuses I made to avoid returning were becoming obvious. It wasn't that I didn't want to go back, in many ways I very definitely DID want to go back. But what if I saw something again? My Avo used to say "protect me from what I want".

Jorge was to be my savior. He was my unofficial mentor ever since I started working there. He was a gruff man, of very few words, but with vast knowledge of plants and the soil. He had a weather-beaten appearance, and rough hands from years of working on coarse plants and the parched earth. Even if he used few words I always knew where I stood with him.

And so that morning I was once again taking the van of tools and plants up the paved driveway of the Beach's villa. I arrived about 10:00, before the heat of the day had built, in the hope that I could get Jorge to help me unload and then be on my way again as soon as possible. I parked next to Jorge's pickup, which was still full of his equipment.

Mr Beach met me. He was warm and welcoming, and entirely appropriate, and the tension I'd been feeling was pretty quick to fade. Instead of going through to the garden he led me to the kitchen and got me a cold drink while we talked. I was honestly relieved. There was no awkwardness - just a silent agreement that we would not mention my last visit.

"Jorge is helping in the garden. I'll send him out to help unload the van", and with that Mr Beach started to shepherd me out and back to my van.

We passed the entrance to the family room and I looked out, through the wide glass doors that opened onto the patio, pool and lawn. Jorge was standing there, half in the shade of a large parasol, next to a low sun lounger. And on that lounger lay Jane, face down, and once again wonderfully naked. Jorge was very openly looking at her bare backside.

This was why I was being ushered out so soon.

Mr Beach, realizing I'd seen, just paused. He was watching my expression, but said nothing. I turned my head to look at him - to see if he'd seen me see them. He just gave me a relaxed smile and showed no other reaction. My nervousness returned in a single heartbeat, rushing through me in an instant. I scurried out of the house and back to the safety of my van.

For the next 15 minutes I unloaded the van. Heavy bags of materials, and assorted tools and hoses. I couldn't tell you what any of them were. My mind was elsewhere. I was remembering Jane's silhouette on the deck at the end of garden, and now the way she was laid out in full view - very much to be seen, viewed, enjoyed.

Everything was quiet. There were no voices, no birds in the air, no wind. So I stepped equally quietly back to the kitchen door. The house was cool and dim compared to the outside. I moved only as far as the arch between the kitchen and family room. I stood in that darker space for several minutes, with the loudest noise being my heart racing in my chest and my shortened breathing.

The garden was bright in comparison. Glare from the surface of the pool, and vivid next to the dim interior of the house.

Jorge had stripped off his t-shirt. His back was towards me, and was defined by muscle and sinew, and his skin moist with sweat even as he knelt in the relative shade of the parasol. He was at one end of the lounger, where Jane still lay. Her head was down, almost as though she were asleep, and Jorge's hands were brushing through her hair. Mr Beach was sat at a small table, perhaps 2 meters from them. He sipped on a tall glass as he watched.

I remember thinking how small Jane looked next to Jorge. Slim, but not thin, she probably stood about 155cm tall. She was a petite woman, but looked so much smaller next to Jorge.

I couldn't hear his words, but he was clearly talking to Jane. Jorge picked a towel up from the lawn, and as Jane lifted her head he placed it neatly under her. I'd expected her to use it as a pillow, scrunching it up and wrapping her arms around it, but I realized that her arms stayed where they were - clasped behind her, in the small of her back. Instead Jane held her face up, facing towards Jorge's abdomen, and rested her chin on the towel.

You have to understand that these images, which take paragraphs to describe in writing, took seconds, and flowed from one to the next without giving me a moment to take stock and make a conscious choice about watching them unfold. When I think back on them I can freeze each moment in my mind and play each section on a repeat. And I do that often.

Jorge unbuttoned his shorts and let them fall. He wore no boxer shorts and, apart from the shorts bunched up at his bent knees, he was as naked as Jane. He had a good ass too. Not surprising, it was muscled just as his shoulder and back were from years of working outdoors,

Jane's face lifted up in front of him. I saw a moment of her eyes searching out his before they closed. Then her head began moving slowly in front of him, tilting from side to side, and rocking back and forward. I could see nothing of the action, but I could imagine every single detail. She would be kissing and nuzzling Jorge's cock. Stroking her tongue along its length. Breathing in the scent of him. Jorge patiently let her play her mouth over him, with his hands at his sides. I'd never imagined Jorge's cock before this, but I certainly was now. I could not have been so patient myself. Inside my head I was shouting for Jane to take him in her mouth, to swallow his length. My mouth was watering at the image of it.

Jorge's hands came up to the sides of Jane's head. He held her loosely, looking down on her and speaking in a very low voice. Jane nodded and opened her mouth wide. Very slowly Jorge's hands brought her face towards him, and his head tilted back. I slipped my hand inside my shorts and I was wet. I held myself, not stroking, just cupping myself and feeling the heat and dampness spreading through me.

Jorge's demands picked up, and he gradually began moving his hips in a slow rhythm. His hands in Jane's hair, holding her in place, while he eased himself back and forth. The muscles of his ass began to tighten as he pushed forwards, His hands started drawing Jane in to him as he steadily thrust forwards.

I wanted to be out there with them. I wanted to hold Jane's hair out of her face, and whisper reassuring words to her. I wanted to watch as her lips spread wide around Jorge. I wanted to urge him on, to build up speed.

Before long he was thrusting purposefully into Jane's mouth. Holding her head captive as he filled her mouth. Not letting up at all, but steadily building pace and force. I wondered what sounds Jane was making. She was clearly experienced at this, and I longed to hear her enjoyment too.

Jorge's movements became forceful stabbing thrusts. He had his hands wrapped in her hair and was pulling her face onto himself. He didn't pause to let her catch her breath. He got faster and harder and took what he wanted.

With a final thrust of his hips he drove forwards, keeping Jane's head still. He tilted his head back a little and I could see the tremor in his muscles. I was disappointed not to hear his exclamation as he came in Jane's mouth. For what felt like minutes he held her there, emptying himself into her. I so badly wanted to watch her swallowing. His muscles strained and then relaxed, and visibly slumped. He rested a hand on Jane's head and sat back on his heels.

At that moment I wanted to both be sat next to her, praising her for her effort, and also laid out flat in her place. Tilting my head back. Opening my mouth.

And that's what I was thinking when my trance finally broke. Mr Beach started to stand up, which drew Jorge's attention, and Jorge saw me. He casually lifted his arm, reaching out towards me, palm upwards as he beckoned me. A strong breeze would have been enough for me to cum in that moment.