I arrived home to my mother's bungalow after another stressful week at the bank. It has been several months since Simon and I parted ways and I have since engineered all my energy into my career at the bank. Simon and my ex-best friend Michelle are now living together which still seems bizarre to me. My love life is lacking at this juncture due to the stress of the breakup and working towards my aim of managing my own branch. I am happy to take my laptop to bed and frigg myself silly until I reach climax. I am starting to stir down below when I sit next to an old man on the bus even more with the summer at its hottest so I am wearing a shorter skirt to work which attracts a lot of attention. One old man is going to be very lucky one day. I still love the idea of being taken by the older fraternity of the community or the losers of life like Simon's uncle Percy or Richard, my virgin work colleague. My body is revving up to be a slut again.
I wake on a beautiful summer Sunday morning, my sexual feelings are the strongest they have been in months. I need sex and I know just the place. A Sunday morning bike ride to the disused cricket pavilion, the one where Harry and his rambling group hopefully still meet up every Sunday. After showering I slip on some knickers and a loose-fitting summer dress which stops at the knee and buttons from top to bottom. I am taking my bicycle so I need the dress loose. White trainers complete the look. The light sky blue flowery patterned dress shows off my bronzed tanned body perfectly. I grab my bike and take a leisurely cycle through the green countryside to the cricket pavilion where hopefully Harry and the boys will be waiting.
After twenty minutes of cycling and a few jolly good mornings, I reach the cricket pavilion only for my heart to sink as it is boarded up with a demolition notice stuck to the boarded-up door. I cannot believe my luck. I was so looking forward to being taken by the old gits. Plan B was needed so I cycle on. I stop at an old church for a sit-down and find a bench which overlooks a small abandoned graveyard. Bordered by large trees It is very tranquil with just the sound of birds singing. Gravestones over one hundred years old make interesting reading. It occupies my mind for 10 minutes before it returns to the disappointment of the cricket pavilion. I take a sip of water and go to get up on my bike to head home disappointed.
"What a beautiful morning it is, my dear." Says a quiet well-spoken voice behind me.
I turn to see a well-spoken and smartly dressed older gentleman with a very impeccably groomed goatee beard and short hair of silvery gray.
"I suppose it is," I reply.
"Never seen you here before my dear. My name is Harold Penrose." Putting his hand out for me to shake.
"Amanda, a pleasure to meet you." I reciprocate.
"Okay if I join you?"
"Yes, be my guest."
As he sat he swung a leather satchel off his shoulder. I hadn't noticed the strap across his shoulder and the bottom of his brown slacks are held up by two brown bicycle clips. He opens his satchel and pulls out a sketch pad and charcoal and drops the satchel to the floor carefully.
"Do you draw?" I ask with interest.
"Yes, just charcoal drawings. Would you like to see my etchings?" He replies.
scuttling up the bench towards me until there are only a few inches between us. The first thing I notice is how beautifully he smells. The freshness of Pears soap like my grandpappy used to use with a hint of cologne. I can't help but sniff him which makes him back off a little. I look at his amazing drawings, his gorgeous fresh smell fills my nostrils. A small breeze blows across the graveyard momentarily moving my dress where the bottom button is undone from cycling, giving him a flash of my bronzed-toned thighs. I catch him stealing a brief look. I am starting to shake a little at the thought of this old stranger taking me in this deserted graveyard. Maybe this stranger can be my plan B after the disappointment of the cricket pavilion.
I place a hand on his arm and his leg as he continues to show me his etchings for twenty minutes describing everyone in great detail leading me to start feigning my interest in his drawings out of frustration and boredom. I know what I want but my hand placements start to make him nervous and he backs away down the bench. He starts to draw a picture of an old gravestone directly in front of us. Now and again he would gently blow the excess charcoal from the page. Every blow of his pursed lips made me shiver inside. He shows no interest in me as he continues to draw leaving me even more frustrated. I have never had to work so hard for a man to fuck me. I sit back on the bench and pull my dress open slightly as if I am catching the sun. I see him steer his gaze from his paper for a few seconds then return to it but enough to show me that I have raised his attention.
He bends down to his satchel and puts his sketchpad away as he does. I undo a couple of buttons on my dress to reveal some cleavage as he is grabbing for something from his bag. After a few seconds of rummaging he pulls a gray and white flask out of his bag and he sits upright on the bench and turns to face me.
"Would you like some t....." He cannot complete his question; he sets his eyes on my cleavage.
"I would love some tea, Mr Penrose." I take the small plastic cup from the flask and stare at him as I take a sip of the tea making sure to run my tongue around my lips. I got him. He took the cup from me. I engineer it so our hands touch. I swear I can feel the electricity between us. I sit back on the bench and Undo another button on my dress so my breasts start to hang out of my dress just leaving the nipples covered. I just wait for Mr Penrose to make his move. He gingerly moves his soft hands towards my breast slowly cupping it. His hand shakes as I move my body up the bench so our bodies are touching again. His sweet aroma fills the air. He just looks at me in disbelief at what's happening to him. He nervously moves his head towards my magnificent round meaty globes and I move my dress open so my magnificent bosoms are on show. I stroke my fingers through his hair and kiss the back of his neck as his mouth clamps onto erect nipples.
"That's it, Mr Penrose, nice and gentle. Pretend I have charcoal on my nipples and blow it away." His soft breath hit my hot sensitive nipples making me sigh loudly starting an explosion in my body.
"Oh Fuck! Mr Penrose. That's it, sir."
His arm wraps around my body pulling it closer to him. For the next few minutes, he moves from nipple to nipple sucking and blowing on them softly. I eventually lift his head to mine, placing his hand back to my breast and we kiss, not fast erotic kissing. our soft lips puckered against each other, our tongues softly touching. I stand up from the bench and stand in front of him and Undo the few remaining buttons of my dress. It flops open revealing my fit body to this old stranger. He nervously moves his head towards it and plants soft kisses on my stomach moving down towards my sweet spot. His fingers slip inside the band of my knickers. He looks at me seeking permission to remove my undergarment to reveal the sweet nectar beneath.
"It is okay Mr Penrose remove my knickers and kiss my vagina."
