Lunchtime Date

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Lunchtime Date

Her . . . .

A lunchtime date, we both agreed, would be the very thing
To take us through from lunch to tea on a warm day in spring
Midday agreed, we’ll slip away to a quiet local spot
The morning is so very long, and I know you’ll be hot
With little time to waste we must be sure to get this right

But passion in the great outdoors will always me excite
A quiet glen, behind a tree, a giant oak no less
You press me against roughened bark, a hand slides up my dress
And as your hand moves higher, soon you come to realise
My pants are gone, nothing now covers up your lunchtime prize

He . . . .

That’s very nice, for I can now, upon your pussy linger
To rub your clit, massage your cunt, with or more I’ll finger
While you can work on zip and belt, and free my throbbing cock
In my office all morning, it’s been swollen like a rock

Now free at last from all restraint, my prick stands out long and proud
I want you now, against this tree, alone we are, no crowd
So lean back now against the trunk, and lift one leg for me
And I will slip inside you, for a climax now you plea

And pushing harder, deeper, I can feel your juices flow
I thrust in you, my rhythm find, its faster now then slow
It seems like just a minute, but already I can tell
I’m ready now to spill my seed into your willing well

And you are ready too, I know, to climax now with me
You cry, I moan, we both come hard, stood up against the tree
Just one last thrust and I am spent, your body answers mine
We quickly dress and both agree that it was quite divine!

We . . . .

This time for sex in our lunchtime is always so exciting
Revisiting this spot, I know, we will both find inviting
So to the office we return, both sated and replete
But later on this evening then the pleasure we’ll repeat

We’ll hold each other in our arms as day gives in to night
And touch and kiss and feel our way within the fading light
Without the need of rush and haste, or fear of being seen
We can make love for hours and hours, in sheets so crisp and clean….

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