Working the early morning shift has its compensations. I used to spend every last moment I could tucked up snugly in bed; not rising until the last possible moment, but now I realise that there is more to the early hours than coffee and that first spluttering cigarette of the day. I love to watch the sun come up, those first tentative fingers of light that probe over the horizon. I love to see the early morning dew on the grass and to enjoy the silence of a world that is yet to wake up. Yes, it definitely has its compensations.
Walking the mile and a half to work rather than taking the car was one of those ideas that seemed like a good one at the time. It was such a lovely morning it just seemed wrong somehow to sit in my vehicle breathing in conditioned air and listening to inane chatter on the radio before arriving at work and spending the next eight or nine hours doing much the same thing. And anyway, I thought, the exercise would probably do me good.
I decided that cutting through the park would be the most direct and quickest route to the factory (no sense in overdoing the exercise, I thought!) and it should be nice and quiet at that time in the morning. But when I arrived at the park gates, I realised that I hadn’t taking into account local bureaucracy. The park gates, apparently under local ordinance, were closed between the hours of 10pm and 7am. As a matter of course I grasped the wrought ironwork in my hand and rattled it (the equivalent of kicking a flat tyre) but the heave padlock clearly wasn’t going to yield to my optimistic ministrations. I looked to each side of the gate for a way through before glancing upwards. I grinned cheekily to myself. I could make that, couldn’t I? The gate must only have been nine or ten feet in height and, in my younger days at least, I had been something of an athlete. I looked around me. To double back would add another mile or so to my journey and that didn’t exactly fill me with enthusiasm. There was nobody around to stop me as I hauled myself up to the top of the gate panting with the effort and swearing I would never touch another cigarette – until a little later, at least! – and dropped down on the other side feeling rather pleased with myself. Another victory for man against the bureaucratic machine!
Walking through the park my eyes kept darting from one side to the other. I was still convinced that some Hitler-like park administrator was going to leap out of the undergrowth at any moment and demand to know exactly what I thought I was doing there when the park was so obviously closed. But nobody jumped out, nobody shouted at me, nobody even spoke and slowly I began to relax and enjoy the stroll.
When I first heard her voice it was quite faint and I wasn’t sure that I hadn’t imagined it. I stopped dead in my tracks and listened. For a moment there was only silence apart from the birds twittering on in their own inane fashion. I shook my head and was just about to continue onwards when the voice came again. This time I was sure I hadn’t imagined it; a female voice that sounded as if the owner was far from happy. As I walked and listened so the sound became more distinct and I knew that I was nearing its source. As I turned the corner I stopped dead in my tracks again. The woman was naked from the waist up and standing over and shouting at a dishevelled looking man who was propped up against a tree. As she verbally berated the fellow – who didn’t even look conscious from where I stood – her tanned breasts seemed to jiggle up and down rather attractively.
Usually I would not get involved in this sort of thing but, something drew me towards them (possibly the firmness of the woman’s breasts; I am male after all!). Perhaps the guy had hurt this woman in some way, or had at least tried to. I owed it to my chivalrous side to at least find out if I could be any assistance to her.
“What?” The woman almost spat at me when I arrived at her side. She made absolutely no attempt to hide her firm young breasts as she glared at me; her eyes blazing like hot coals.
“Are you okay?” It was a lame response, I know, but I was really trying (and failing) not to stare quite so obviously at her breasts.
“Yes. Sorry, I’m fine.” She said, mellowing as she realised that I posed no threat to her.
I could see that she was still angry, however and was about to turn and leave the couple to their argument when she spoke again.
“I’d be a lot better if my useless prick of a husband hadn’t fallen asleep when he was just about to fuck me!”
I looked down at the man slumped against the tree and saw that he was fast asleepand snoring softly; clearly through the effects of excessive quantities of alcohol, I guessed.
“We’d been to a party.” The woman continued as if she expected me to need some form of explanation. “Only left an hour or so ago. It was his idea to do it in the park. Nobody around, he said. It will be fun, he said. Get your tits out, he said! Then he passed out. Useless bastard!”
I hadn’t realised that I’d been smiling quite so much and immediately wiped the grin off my face as the woman turned those hot-coal eyes on me.
“You think it’s funny?” She chided
“Er, no. Sorry.”
“You men are all the same. Useless.” But as she said it she was looking at me. I’ve always thought that women in a certain state of excitement exude a sort of “presence” and this woman, with her jet black hair and her delightfully firm breasts, seemed to be oozing it from every pore.
“We’re not all useless.” I said with a grin.
For the briefest moment there was a screaming silence. I looked deep into those dark, fiery eyes and saw the spark. The spark that told me something was about to happen.
“Prove it.” She said without a trace of emotion. Prove to me that you’re not as useless as my husband.”
Now I may not be the most intelligent man in the world. I may not win Oscars, or Nobel prizes, I may not be able to speak ten different languages. But I understand the language of lust – and this woman was a fluent speaker!
Removing my shirt with a smile I sat on the hard wood of a nearby bench and beckoned the woman towards me. Her husband still appeared to be snoring away peacefully, blissfully unaware that his wife was standing half naked in front of a perfect stranger she had just met.
The woman moved to be beside me. I felt her cool hands on my chest as she caressed me with trembling fingers. My own hands quickly sought out the orbs of womanly flesh that had been tantalising me so much for the last few minutes and I heard her gasp quietly as I rolled the stiffening nipples between my fingers. We kissed, deep and wet, our tongues dancing in and out of each other mouths and I let my hands wander downwards, fluttering over her spine to the waistband of her short skirt as I eased the material down over her rounded butt.
Under the skirt I found a pair of white thong panties that appeared a little moist in the crotch. I could still feel her hands on my chest as we continued our embrace; her long, painted fingernails raking gently over my skin and sending shivers up and down my spine.
“Let me help you out of these.” I said as we eventually broke the kiss. My fingers hooked into the top of her underwear and slowly I eased the tiny garment down her long, slender legs.
As I allowed my fingers to drift down between her parted legs, I could sense the woman’s hands also moving down. By this time my cock was straining beneath my pants and as she unzipped me I felt her cool touch as she wrapped her fingers around my throbbing length.
My own fingers were busy now too. She had spread her legs really wide to allow me access to her most private area and I was determined to take full advantage. My index finger slowly circled the protrusion of her clitty and I heard her moan softly into my shoulder. Two fingers inside her now. Slowly exploring. Gently probing. Her moans becoming deep, guttural groans now. Her hand squeezes my exposed weapon and causes me to catch my breath. I thrust my fingers deeper and her head goes back; eyes closed, mouth open. I can tell she is close and it takes only a few more deft, experienced movements before I feel her whole body start to tremble. As she shakes I can feel the muscles inside her vagina tense and contract around my fingers. I probe deeper and her hips move onto me, forcing my digits in to the hilt. Her breathing is coming in short rasping pants as she climaxes on my hand and I can feel her sex juices as they seep out onto my fingers.
Just as I think that things are going extremely well, she begins to push me back and away from her. I worry for a moment that this is it. Perhaps she is just a tease; wanting her own release and then thanking me before dressing and going on her way. But I look into her eyes and see that this is not the case. The lust still burns brightly there and I know that there is more to come.
Her movement away from me gave me the chance to undress myself completely while all the time gazing on the beauty that is her naked body. I glanced at her reposed husband once again and then looked back at her enquiringly.
“Don’t worry about him,” she said. “He’s so drunk that even if he does wake up he won’t know where he is!”
“Yes, but what if ..”
My words stuck in my mouth and I gasped loudly as the woman leaned over into my lap and slid her hot, willing mouth over the head of my throbbing cock.
Her tongue danced gracefully over my shaft, licking and teasing my hot flesh as she gobbled me deeply. Her fingers cupped my heavy balls and stroked them, squeezing lightly every now and then as her head began to bob up and down and the sucking in her cheeks started. I was in heaven and thought that even if this woman’s husband did awaken. It would take him and an entire army to stop me thrusting my rigid tool into his wife’s mouth!
