The Gardener

This story follows on from an earlier one 'The Midnight Meeting', using the same characters but in a different setting.

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'Come in, Matt.' Francesca Charlesworth stood back and held open the door for her newly appointed gardener to enter. 'I'm sorry John gave you such a hard time at interview, but I'm afraid he's a bit like that.'

'That's okay Mrs Charlesworth, I understand.'

'No. Please, I'm not Mrs Charlesworth today.' She looked at him over her shoulder as she led him down the hall. 'There'll be times when it would sound silly to be that formal, so as far as you're concerned I'm only Mrs Charlesworth when John is around, when he isn't I'm just Fran.'

'Yes Fran.' He'd had trouble remembering to call her by her surname at the interview, because the only other time they'd spoken he'd known her simply as Fran. He just hoped he wouldn't slip up if her husband was ever at home.

'It was all a front you know.' She told him as they walked through into the kitchen. 'He already knew he was going to take you on, because I'd made sure you were the only applicant.' She smiled conspiratorially.

'Now.' She suddenly sounded more businesslike. 'It would be better to knock at the kitchen door when you come.' She indicated the back door with one elegant hand. 'I can do without muddy boots on the hall carpet, and if you have to go into any other room, leave your boots in here, okay?'

'Yes Fran.' He was puzzled by her change of demeanour, but he couldn't help but grin at her words. Any other room meant only one thing as far as he was concerned.

'You know what your duties are to be, don't you?' Though her voice still sounded stern there was a twinkle in her eye that she tried to suppress as she asked him that.

They had met down by the village pond in the early hours of the morning a few nights before, two insomniacs avoiding their cold marriage beds and both of them in need of a little affection. Although she was in her early forties, and about a dozen or more years older than he, they struck up an immediate rapport, so much so that their midnight meeting had ended with them having spontaneous and urgent sex on the park bench, even though it meant risking being seen by any other late night wanderers who happened by. What they were doing was satisfying a need in each other that their marriage partners were unwilling or unable to fulfil, a need that could no longer be battened down, and afterwards they both realised that once would not be enough. It was Fran who then had the idea to have him taken on as the part time gardener her husband agreed that they needed. Gardening was not the only job she had in mind.

'To keep the garden tidy, mow the lawns, cut the hedges and anything else you ask me to do.' He stifled a chuckle.

'And what else are you likely to ask him to do, Francesca?'

The strange voice caught Matt unawares and made him jump. He looked around hastily as an elegant older woman walked into the room, her steady gaze appraising him but without disclosing what she thought.

'This is Matt, our new gardener.' Fran introduced him, ignoring her question. 'And this is John's sister Maureen.'

'John's older sister actually.' She came forward with her hand outstretched to be shaken.

Matt's heart sank as he took it. The last thing he needed was her husband's big sister around at a time like this, although big sister was hardly the definition of this gracefully small and slim woman. But at least now he thought he understood the reason for Fran's unexpectedly professional attitude.

'If you're wondering why I'm here.' She told him. 'It's because John asked me to be on hand, in his words, to make sure Mrs Charlesworth was safe and that you weren't about to rob the place. Although what he would expect a sixty-one year old woman to do if you were is beyond me. But he's my brother and I'll do it to please him. Though you're not about to steal the family silver, are you?' Her question had a strangely teasing note to it.

'No, of course not.' Matt frowned at the suggestion.

'No, I didn't think you were.' She looked at him with bright brown eyes and then spoke again. 'But then it's not really the silver he's worried about, it's his other possessions. Especially the one that he either can't or doesn't want to take care of himself, but wouldn't want anyone else to either.'

'Mo!' Fran exclaimed.

Matt had an idea where this was heading, or he thought he did. His heart sank further. Not just this week was out of the question, but every damn week at this rate.

'I'm not stupid.' Maureen told them both. 'He told me he's concerned for his wife's safety, but I think really it's her chastity he's bothered about. He's worried in case Francesca might find another use for such a virile young man, one that John's probably not able to fulfil anymore. So I'm here as a chaperone, although I think I'm supposed not to realise that.'

'Mo!' Fran repeated. 'You're embarrassing me.'

'Just so long as you know to behave in the way John might expect you to.' Mo seemed to select her words carefully and Matt felt sure there was a hidden meaning that he couldn't quite pick up on.

'Mo.' Fran spoke equally cautiously. 'I'm sure you'll be able to report back that you've seen neither Matt nor myself doing anything that he hasn't been hired for.'

'That's exactly what I thought.' Maureen replied, smiling mischievously. 'Go on, don't you think you should show him around his new domain?'

Matt looked at her twinkling eyes and wondered if there might be a double entendre hidden somewhere in that remark too.

'Yes, good idea.' Fran stood up and motioned to Matt. 'Let me take you round the garden.'

'What am I missing?' Matt asked. 'Does she know what happened the other night?'

'No, but she's a wily old bird, and I think she's spotted which way the wind's blowing. In any case she's not as much a fan of her brother as he thinks.'

'Why, doesn't she get on with him?' Matt asked, curious as always.

'She's a widow, and John's taken it on himself to look after her because of that, but sometimes he thinks that gives him a veto on anything she does. You know, poor little useless woman who will only get herself in a mess without his guidance, that sort of thing. It's the kind of chauvinism that really annoys her.'

'Yeah, I've met the type.' Matt nodded. 'Does he try it with you?'

'Oh, he thinks he does, but actually it's only to the point that I let him, just to keep the peace.'

Matt grinned, this was no passive "yes dear" wife that he'd got himself mixed up with.

They had wandered over the expanse of lawn that went across the back of the house and extended around the side and were now threading through an herbaceous border into what purported to be a vegetable garden, though it had clearly not born fruit for some time.

'This is the main thing I want sorted. It's a shame to have such a garden without making use of it.' Fran swept her hand around in an all encompassing arc. 'But for today the lawns need a haircut. Come on, I'll show you where the tools are kept.'

She pointed him at a spacious brick built shed by the side of the path, shooting a quick glance towards the house before taking his hand in hers and leading him towards it.

'You're not leading me up the garden path, are you?' He quipped, squeezing her hand gently.

'Oh no.' She answered gravely, intentionally missing his attempt at humour. 'I'm certainly not doing that.'

Matt didn't know quite how to react to her seriousness and so he kept quiet until she had closed the shed door behind them, but as soon as they were safely out of sight Fran turned to face him, taking both his hands in hers.

'No Matt, I'm not messing you around or anything like that. I want you, I've wanted you again ever since the first time we met by the pond. But you have to realise that this can never be a proper romance because we're both married, so it can only ever be purely physical. You do understand that, don't you?'

'What you're saying is you want us to be fuck buddies, is that it?' He asked, secretly quite pleased that she'd kicked anything more starry-eyed into touch.

'I'm not sure I like the phrase, but yes, I suppose that's what I mean. Is your wife still on a sex strike?' She asked him unexpectedly switching subjects, her eyes searching his expression for an answer. 'I mean, I won't be coming between you two making up, will I?'

Matt's wife had refused his advances ever since he had lost his previous job, but he had a nagging suspicion that she'd used his unemployment just as an unanticipated but welcome excuse. Even his announcement, made to cover his new relationship with Fran, that he was looking for temporary gardening work to tide him over, had only been greeted with a sour look and the observation that he wouldn't have needed that if he'd looked after his proper job. Their marriage was now merely one in name only and he wouldn't have been surprised to find that she had a lover of her own. He was even more surprised to realise that if such was the case, he didn't care.

'No, she's literally giving me the cold shoulder in that department. I can't see it ever changing to be honest. So no, you and I getting together won't make any difference. As long as we don't start being silly about each other, it'll be fine.'

'That's good.' She smiled. 'I didn't want to get in the way.'

'You're not. I fact getting to meet you has been the high point of my year, especially getting a job here.' He'd nearly said "position" instead of "job", but that might have been misinterpreted.

'I'm glad.' She relaxed visibly, and then her eyes crinkled with mischief. 'Now, seeing as you've passed your gardening interview with the man of the house; let's see if you can pass your lover's audition with his lady.'

She took hold of his upper arms and steered him gently but firmly backwards until he was backed up against a workbench.

'Not in here!' He exclaimed, alarmed at the thought.

Fran kissed him gently on the cheek. 'Why not, we did it on a park bench?'

'Yes, but what about Mo?'

Fran laughed and pulled back a little way. 'Unless she can see through brick walls, she won't know. She won't come investigating just because we're out of sight. But no, we won't go too far, not here, not now. I just want to remind myself of how lucky I am.'

With that she moved in closer and hooked an arm around his neck to pull him into a kiss. Just for an instant he resisted, wondering how Fran could be so sure that Maureen wouldn't come looking and still a little worried about being caught, but then his lips parted and they kissed passionately, their mouths pressed hard together and their tongues darting between each others lips.

'Mmmm. I'm not sure it's you that's the lucky one.' He told her, smiling as they finally pulled apart to arms length.

'Oh it is.' She replied softly, her hand reaching down and closing gently over the front of his jeans. 'I'm going to get to play with him again.'

She moved in and kissed him again, all the time fondling his cock through his jeans, bringing it rapidly from soft to rock hard.

'Mmm. It's nice to know he's still interested.' She told him, running her nails over the denim of his jeans and sending lovely little vibrations along his shaft.

'God, how could he not be when you do that?'

Her fingers fumbled for his zip, finding the toggle and swiftly pulling it down.

'Let's see how he likes this.' She breathed in his ear, her fingers seeking and freeing his cock before running lightly up and down its hot hard length.

'He likes it very much.' He answered gruffly, wanting to respond in kind but hesitating just a fraction too long when she dropped to her knees in front of him to gaze contemplatively at his cock, stroking it gently between finger and thumb.

He was shocked, he knew what was coming, or rather he thought he did, but he wasn't sure that a lady as stylish as Fran would do something like that. He waited and he hoped, but she played with him for so long that he began to think he was right. But then, just as he had decided that she didn't intend to do anything like that, she leaned forward and closed her mouth over his tip.

It was worth the wait, her tongue swirled softly around his glans before she started to take more of him into her mouth, nodding over him slowly so that her mouth and hand worked together to masturbate him. It was so soft, so understated that it was almost teasing and he had to consciously rest his hands on her shoulders to resist the temptation to entangle them in her hair and pull her mouth forcefully onto his cock. But the way she was fellating him felt so good, so damn good, that he could only stare over her gently bobbing head at the bottles and cartons of fertiliser and weed-killer on the shelf opposite and let himself enjoy her attention, in the instinctive certainty that she knew exactly what she was doing.

He was right; she did know exactly what she was doing. Fran was a woman with an instinctive knowledge of how to please a man. Her mouth, warm and soft, travelled up and down his shaft, meeting her hand as it stroked him steadily in the opposite direction. At the same time her tongue danced around the head, licking and lapping at him until he felt he couldn't stand any more. He could soon feel a climax building, causing him to throw his head, back, eyes closed and mouth open, and grip tightly onto Fran's shoulders. His pleasure became more intense as he got closer, taken relentlessly towards an orgasm by her magical mouth.

'Oh my god, Fran. You're going to make me come.'

He had to warn her. To his unsophisticated mind she seemed too classy for him just to shoot into her mouth. She probably wouldn't want him to do it. But she showed no signs of stopping.

'I'm coming Fran.'

She showed no sign that she'd heard that either, but he wasn't going to be able to hold back.

'Oh god.'

He felt his cum race along his cock and burst from its tip as his climax hit, shooting into Fran's mouth in long powerful spurts. He half expected her to pull away, spitting and cursing, but she just moaned softly and sucked him harder, taking everything he'd got and swallowing it all. He just let it happen, for there was nothing else he could do, except perhaps promise himself that he would return the favour and the pleasure at the earliest chance.

Meanwhile her hand kept wanking him into her mouth until he had nothing left and he stood, propped up by the workbench, his legs trembling, his chest heaving, his heart thumping and his tongue licking dry lips as he tried to absorb what had just happened. Yes, he'd hoped to have sex with her, but he'd anticipated maybe normal sex for her pleasure rather than oral sex for his, and even that had been put in question by the presence of John's sister.

'Thank you.' He managed to whisper.

Fran smiled and licked her lips as she stood up, her hand still wrapped gently around his rapidly softening cock.

'It was my pleasure.' The way she said it made him believe her.

'I didn't think you'd do that.'

'I like doing it. It used to be one of my favourite things. And I like the taste.' She smiled again at the surprise on his face. 'Some women do you know.'

'I know.' He answered. 'I just didn't think you would.'

'Oh but I do. So you'll get more of that if things go well between us.'

She tucked his cock back into his pants and zipped him up. 'Come on, we'd better get some work done, or John will be wondering what we've been up to.'

'Okay.' He forced himself back upright on still wobbly legs. 'What would you like me to do?'

'Are you all right with a petrol mower?' She asked, pointing to an old and obviously well used lawn mower.

'I think so.'

'Good. You do the lawns, there's a heap for grass cuttings behind the shed, and I'll make a start on edging them.'

'You're going to do it?' He was surprised.

'If we both work at it, it'll give us more time at the end without it looking as though you've been slacking.'

Matt was actually being paid over the odds and he had told his wife his shift was longer than John had actually hired him for, so time was not as critical as it might have been.

'Oh, don't worry; I don't have to be away on the dot.' He told her.

'Good.' Fran chuckled. 'Then having me working too will help to save your energy, won't it?' With that she picked up a set of edging shears, ones that looked just as old and worn as the mower, and set off to make a start.

For a moment he just gazed at her retreating back, astonished once again at how down to earth she really was, and then he disentangled the mower from a coil of wire that had fallen over it and wheeled it from the shed.

For all its apparent age and wear the mower performed well, taking the grass down from its overlong state to a nice even sward at a single pass. The two worked solidly, pausing just occasionally to share a joke or an observation, until finally, and sooner than expected, the lawns were both cut and the edges were trimmed. Matt had taken out another set of shears to help with the edging when lawns were cut and the mower was cleaned and put away, so that gardener and employer worked side by side to finish the job more quickly.

'Good job, Matt.' Fran told him as they walked back towards the house. 'Thank you. Come on, we'll go get a coffee.'

He just smiled and nodded, remembering the job she had done on him. In his mind was the unpleasant thought that, with Mo around, drinking a coffee was all that was likely to happen, regardless of the fact that they'd finished early and regardless of the innuendos he'd been hearing. But then, just as he became more certain of his pessimistic thoughts, Mo came out through the kitchen door carrying a blanket and a book.

'Finished, you two?' She asked cheerily. 'Now you've mown that untidy lawn I thought I'd do a bit of sunbathing on it. I figured I'd get out of your way while you have a break, I'm sure you've got garden business to discuss, and I'm not going to hang around while you decide what to plant where.' She stopped abruptly at a secret thought and suddenly giggled girlishly. 'I might end up getting jealous.'

Matt stopped dead in astonishment and watched Mo retreating across the lawn, remembering her earlier remarks about being a chaperone. 'Did I hear that right? She knows, doesn't she?'

'Not from me, she doesn't, not for certain anyway. But as I said, she isn't stupid, and I think I gave the game away a little bit when I was waiting for you to arrive.' Fran looked at Matt apologetically. 'I saw her looking at me funny because I couldn't help keep looking at the clock and glancing out of the window.'

'So will she tell your husband? I mean, she is supposed to be your chaperone, isn't she?'

'No, she won't say anything to John. That's why she gone out to sunbathe, so that she can honestly say she hasn't seen anything. She'll go through the motions of being our chaperone, but she's got a well developed blind eye just so long as we're discreet. I trust her.'

That was good enough for Matt, who had probably less to lose than Fran. 'Well, if you do, I do.'

Fran smiled and came over to him, hooking her hands around his neck and pulling herself closer. 'She hasn't had much to not see yet, has she.' She whispered. 'Shall we change that?'

Matt opened his mouth to reply, but a lovely soft and warm set of lips stopped him. He didn't need any more hints, his arms went around her and he kissed her back, feeling her wriggling gently, pushing herself up close against him and murmuring something meaningless into his mouth. He could feel himself responding, his cock unfurling behind his zip.

'Let's go upstairs.' Her invitation made his heart beat just that bit quicker.

'What about Mo?' He asked as they separated.

Fran chuckled and pointed out of the window. 'She won't bother us, look.'