I was feeling annoyed, lonely and frustrated. There I was, miles from anywhere, in an isolated cottage in Wales and my husband was somewhere in the USA. What made matters worse was that we had only been married for two weeks and this was supposed to be our honeymoon.
As I paced from room to room my anger increased. I had looked forward to this trip for so long. I'd dreamed of how we would sunbathe naked in the garden and then make passionate love on the grass or against the old oak tree. Instead here I was alone, with no one for miles.
The cottage was idyllic with mountains in the distance and complete privacy. A perfect place for two lovers to sate their lust.
It was ten o'clock in the evening on my first day. I had a warm bath to try and help me relax and, as I got out, my nipples were hard and aroused. "Damn," I almost shouted out, "He should be sucking on them. Oh God, I feel so frustrated."
After I had dried myself I slipped into the comfy double bed and cried myself to sleep.
Next morning the sun was shining through my bedroom window and the world looked a little brighter. I padded downstairs naked, after all there was no one to see me, and made myself a pot of tea and some toast.
The sun looked inviting so I opened the back door and walked out into the enclosed garden. The morning chill caressed my skin and once again my nipples hardened. They looked so beautiful, big and brown. I touched myself with my hand softly and felt a thrill shoot through my body.
"Only another six weeks before my next shag," I told myself and shivered at the thought, or perhaps it was the morning breeze on my warm flesh making me do so.
"I'll go for a long walk and then, when I get back, I'll have a cold shower to dowse my frustrations," I told myself. And this is what I did.
I followed a similar pattern for the next four or five days. I walked and took cold showers but then I took to sunbathing in the garden. At first I wore my bikini, but I soon took this off and lay there toasting my nakedness beneath the afternoon sun. My skin warmed and so did my sexuality.
It was the sun oil that started to lead me astray!
I massaged some across my chest and my breasts seemed to swell with the pleasure of being touched. God it felt good. My hands travelled down to the softness of my tummy and I could feel my heart beat a little faster. I couldn't stop myself and my fingers moved through the small trail of soft pubic hair and onto my secret entrance.
A firm finger slipped between my fleshy lips and I gasped out loud as I felt the lubricated silkiness of the inside of my pussy. Slowly, oh so slowly, agonisingly slowly I stroked myself enjoying every thrill and sensation of my inner self.
Towards the front wall of my pleasure tunnel I felt the almost walnut shape of my g-spot which, now aroused, was almost an inch in diameter.
My finger made a repeated beckoning action over my g-spot and the tension started to build within my tummy and inside my pussy. By now I was groaning as the sun beat down on my skin and my finger drove me onwards and upwards to heights I'd barely reached before. I was holding back, frightened to let myself go and then suddenly I couldn't take any more and screamed out as an orgasm took over my body. As it did so I felt something, it felt like liquid, erupting from my depths and ejaculating out of me.
"Oh God! Oh God," I cried out, "What's happening, what's fucking happening?"
Another orgasm took over from the last one and, as it did so, I took my hands away from my pussy to grasp and squeeze onto my tits as if I was holding on to life itself.
"Fucking hell, fucking hell," I kept saying as my body finally slowed and I tried to regain what composure I could.
I lay still listening to my heart thumping under my breasts, making them vibrate, and I tried to gather my thoughts.
"Oh God, I think I've squirted, ejaculated or whatever they call it."
I got up from the sun lounger and looked at the damp patch I had made. I giggled to myself and thought, "Who the fuck needs a man?" But then again, it would have been nice to have shared the moment with someone. Firsts in life are always special.
This then became my new daily pattern: walk, shower, sunbathe, masturbate.
I adapted to my new life quite well and had taken to spending most of my time nude. Even when I went walking over the fields I merely pulled on shorts and a thin top, never any underwear. I felt constantly aroused but regular masturbation quenched my desires for a limited time.
On about my tenth day I was laying naked in the back garden when I heard a car and then, to my horror, a loud knock on the front door.
I grabbed a satin robe I had and put it on quickly, knotting the belt around my waist. I made my way to the front door and there was this man.
I looked at him and he smiled. I felt frozen to the spot. His distinctive blue eyes took my breath away. For a moment I thought I knew him, but realised I couldn't possibly have met him before.
He smiled again and I stammered out a, "H-h-hello." I felt like a rabbit trapped in headlights.
"I'm the electrician and I've come to check the cottage's appliances. Here's my letter from the owners as verification. It has to be done once a year for insurance purposes. I'm sorry to have disturbed you ..."
I still stood still awestruck. I had no idea why this guy had such an effect on me. He was about 43, maybe slightly less and looked, well sort of average, but then there were those eyes.
At last I came to my senses and said, "Oh, right, you'd better come on in."
"I'll start in the living room with the television, if that's okay."
I tightened the robe around my body but realised that this simply emphasised my tits and my protruding nipples.
I blushed and mumbled, "Okay."
I went to the kitchen and I was shaking, physically shaking and couldn't think why. Perhaps I'd been on my own for too long. I took some deep breaths and called out, "Would you like a coffee?"
"Please, white with no sugar."
I made the drinks and left his next to him.
All in all he took about an hour and a half to check that all of the electrical bits were safe. He said he had finished and would be off.
"Another coffee, before you go?"
"Please," he answered.
I hoped he didn't think I was coming on to him or anything but he appeared very polite and nice. We sat together at the table and chatted away. I asked him his name.
"Sparky", he answered, "It's what everyone calls me, what with being an electrician."
I smiled and looked into his eyes and he smiled back. I talked too much and told him how I was 23 years old and that my husband was away at the moment. In turn he told me I should try out the village pub, about seven miles away.
"I'll buy you a drink if I see you in there," he volunteered and with that he left.
I slumped into an armchair as I heard his car drive away. I was like some teenager with a crush. I couldn't think why he had this effect on me. "It must be his eyes," I told myself.
I undid the belt of my robe and gently touched my tits. My hands were trembling and I had an overwhelming sexual desire building inside me. I shut my eyes and could still see his, the blueness and the friendliness. It was if I knew him. "In another life, I guess," I told myself.
My hands were by now between my thighs stroking my clit, my breathing had quickened. I pushed a finger into my pussy, then two more. There was plenty of room, I was so wet, my fingers became slippery with my juices as I finger fucked myself. Then that feeling came again, the build up of tension.
"No I can't, I can't, I mustn't," I said over and over as my fingers pushed in and out of my pussy. Then it happened, just as before. I couldn't stop or control myself as I orgasmed and felt a stream of juices propelled from inside of me.
"Oh God, no, oh no." I'd made the chair seat wet and tears were running down my cheeks but I continued fucking myself until a second orgasm ripped through my body.