One Summer Morning

I was woken early by the sunshine streaming through my windows. I tried going back to sleep, but after tossing and turning for a while I realised it was useless; I was well and truly awake, and so I got up, showered and had breakfast. It was still comparatively early, so I decided to go for a walk to re-acquaint myself with the city. I'd been away from my native city for too long, but was glad to be back home, although I'd never lived in this part of town before, and I found myself walking by the river bank.

It was a pleasant walk right enough, the grass and trees lush with the promise of early summer, and with the birds singing loudly, not to mention the ducks and geese, that made the river their homes, quacking, honking and splashing busily, it was so peaceful and tranquil that I felt as if I were in the country. The path led behind the houses, their large back gardens leading down to the path that led along the riverbank.

Presently I noticed a young woman, just at the other side of a fence, hanging her washing out to dry, so I called out, 'Good morning,' adding, 'It looks like you're in luck with the weather today, I'm sure your washing will be dry in no time.' She turned and bestowed the loveliest of smiles on me, and so I attempted to engage her in conversation. After all, she was a beautiful young woman, and I, a lonely young man.

We spoke of nothing of any great consequence, just mundane, every day things, but it was enough for me to realise by her voice and vocabulary that this was not some dull, stupid hausfrau, but a young woman of some intelligence. As we spoke the conversation took on a more flirtatious tone and she seemed to relish the cut and thrust, the chance to pit her wits with mine. She laughed easily and often, and I confess, I was quite smitten with her in a short time. I was in no hurry to move on, having nothing better to do, and if she had other chores to perform, she showed no urgency in leaving me to attend them.

Gradually, the conversation took on an even more flirtatious tone, quite risqué in parts, and she blushed as much as she laughed, which was quite endearing. Eventually, I asked her if we could meet again, and perhaps go out together, to the cinema, or to a club, or maybe just a walk in the park, for, I confessed, I liked her so much that I'd love to see her again. Her lovely smile vanished, and she looked away shyly before she spoke.

'I'm a married woman, didn't you realise,' she asked. I was devastated.

'Well, I wondered, with you hanging out washing and all, but I presumed, no, I hoped you were single,' I explained lamely. 'I find you so attractive, and likeable, I can't help but want you.' She looked shocked at my frank confession.

'What kind of woman do you think I am? Do you think I'd just hop into bed with any good looking man that walks by,' she said with some resentment in her tone.

'Oh no, please don't think that of me,' I begged. 'I just saw you, and you looked so beautiful, and you were so nice to talk to. So very easy to talk to, and we seemed to get on so well, I just thought it would be nice to see you again. You're a very special woman you know.' She smiled as I tried to explain myself, it being important to me that she knew I meant no insult to her. We talked some more, and she seemed reassured by my explanations, and eventually our conversation resumed as before. Once again she laughed and blushed, but giving as good as she got in our exchanges, and I began to hope again. After a while I realised I was growing ever more thirsty, and asked her if it was possible to get a glass of water. She nodded, but hesitated for a moment.

'Yes, I'm quite thirsty myself,' she replied, 'come inside and I'll make us a cup of tea.' She opened the gate, and I entered her garden, walking up the path to her back door, which was ajar. She indicated that I enter, and she came in and shut the door behind us. We were in her kitchen, and I turned to meet her just as she turned towards me from the door, and we literally stumbled into each other's arms.

Whether she meant it to happen, I don't know, but suddenly we were holding each other, kissing passionately, and again she was giving as good as she got. My hands found her breasts, caressing and squeezing, and she let out a little moan deep in her throat. I pushed her against the wall as we kissed and slipped my hand under her skirt. She parted her legs without a murmur of protest, and I stroked and played with her through the thin material of her panties. She liked it a lot if her out of control breathing and loud moans of appreciation were anything to go by. Reaching for me, she felt my cock through my trousers, my hardness telling her all she needed to know, and reaching further down for my hand that was busy between her legs, she pulled it away. 'Let's go upstairs,' she gasped out and I eagerly followed her as she quickly led me by the hand up to her bedroom.

In her bedroom we carried on where we had left off, stroking and touching, both of us eager for the coming pleasure, but suddenly she stopped me, and made me sit on the edge of the bed. 'Let me do this,' she said throatily, unbuttoning her shirt, swaying slightly as if dancing to some unheard music although it wasn't quite a dance. She pulled the shirt out of her waistband, and let it slide of her creamy shoulders. Next she reached up behind and unclipped the lacy white bra letting it fall from her breasts.

They weren't big, but beautifully shaped, round and symmetrical, with really dark areolae and big nipples which looked hard and erect. I didn't have to reach for them; she moved closer and fed first one, then another close to my mouth. I needed no second bidding and licked, sucked and squeezed them with enthusiasm, and all the time telling her how wonderful and beautiful they were. She liked that and smiled down at me as I worshipped her boobs, as she moaned and whimpered all the while. She skipped away from me when I reached forward trying to touch her pussy.

'Soon,' she promised, reaching round to the zip at the side of her skirt, and within seconds her skirt fell round her ankles where she very elegantly stepped out of it and scooped it up, throwing it over a chair. She turned and wriggled a very slim and shapely bottom in front of my face, looking back, smiling, but stepping away from me as I reached for her again. Her hands hooked the waistband of the flimsy scrap of material, and pushed downwards. Her little white panties joined the rest of her clothes over the chair back as she turned to me smiling.

She was shaven, her labia protruding a fair bit, for she was blessed with a good strong pussy with lots of character. It wasn't just a small, neat slit with virtually nothing to see; it was a pussy connoisseur's delight, good sized fleshy lips, open and wet, promising a warm welcome. Once more I couldn't restrain myself and reached for her, but she pushed my hands away. 'Wait, be patient, I promise you won't be sorry,' she almost whispered, coming closer still until her legs were on either side of mine, open and inviting although as yet, out of bounds. The glorious pussy was so close to my face I could see every silken fold of moist pink flesh, and I could smell her. A hot musky fragrance that positively reeked of sex, and I wanted to bury my face in that cunt and lick her until she screamed.

Instead she pushed me back on the bed and knelt astride my body; gradually crawling higher, up from my waist, over my chest until she was almost astride my face. She was open and wet, her clitoris clearly visible peeking out from below its hood, her lips gaping, with clear viscous juice oozing from within.

'Now,' she moaned, 'oh please, please, do it now,' and as she said it, she leaned forward placing both hands on the bed above my head, lowering herself onto my mouth. She was in charge, but who cared with that wonderful wet, fragrant pussy pushing against my tongue and lips. I set about licking, kissing, sucking, making her moan and sob with delight, the constant flow of wetness running down over my chin. She began to slide back and forth varying the pressure on my mouth, her moans and calls of ecstasy getting louder and more frantic as she began to orgasm which seemed to go on and on until at last she began to slow, then stopped, before falling forward on the bed beyond my head.

I crawled out from below, and quickly undressed as she lay on the bed, naked, legs wide open, a wonderful sight. I knelt on the bed behind her and holding her by the hips, pulled her gently up off the bed into a kneeling position, where the glorious wetness irresistibly tempted me into doing the only reasonable thing a man could do given the circumstances. I slipped my cock into her wetness, up to the hilt and left it there to, 'soak,' for a few minutes. She squirmed around for a few seconds, getting herself settled onto me, moaning again as she did it. I knew she was ready for round two, but I did nothing except rejoice, feeling like the luckiest man in the world at that moment.

I looked down at the silken skin of her slim bottom and massaged it lightly, giving her a playful little slap on the globes of her buttocks, whereupon she squirmed again. I could hear and feel her excitement mounting, until finally, as I knew she would, she began to push back against my invading cock, and then pull forward before pushing back again. She wasn't the kind of girl to be a passive lover I judged, and I was right.

She wanted to be fucked and she let me know it by fucking me first, the pace of her thrusting soon settling into a fine steady rhythm, with me now giving her as much as I was getting. I varied the angles, digging in deep, ramming it home, and reaming her for all I was worth. She let me know loud and clear how much she loved it, calling loudly for me not to stop, to give it to her, encouraging me, welcoming me into her depths. I needed no encouragement, but it was wonderful to hear how much my lover wanted it, and loved it. Her internal wetness oozed and dribbled covering my cock and balls in a constant stream of slippery fluids, and my cock was meeting next to no resistance as it slid from tip to balls again and again deeper into her hole.

She shuddered and trembled as her orgasm approached, and her uninhibited wildness helped to drag me over the edge too, and I felt myself coming just as she screamed out that she was coming. I let go, and my cock pulsed and pumped, filling her with my thick hot spunk. I stood there, behind her, unmoving and still buried to the hilt inside her, both of us gradually getting our breath back, and then slowly, slowly, she slid off my dying erection with an audible, 'slurp,' falling face forward on the bed again. I could see my come, oozing out from between the fabulous labia, thick and white, mixing with her own lighter, clearer juices. I joined her on the bed, and she turned coming into my arms, 'That was fucking incredible,' she whispered as she nuzzled the side of my neck.

'Oh no,' I whispered in reply, 'it was much better than that.' She giggled, but we said nothing more for quite some time. We stayed in bed for most of the day, making love, enjoying each other's bodies and sampling what pleasures we could as we explored and experimented. She even made me that cup of tea she promised, until finally, late in the afternoon, looking at the bedside clock, she pushed me out of bed and got up too, hastily pulling on her clothes.

'Right, it's time for you to go. My husband will be home soon, and I have things to do,' and reluctantly I got dressed too. Going downstairs, she opened the back door and made me wait, while she looked out to see if there was anyone in any of the neighbouring gardens. Satisfied, she came back inside the door and kissed me passionately once more. 'Please tell me I wasn't just an easy lay, a quick fuck,' she said, looking into my eyes intently.

'Hardly quick,' I protested. 'I've been here about six hours.' She shook her head.

'You know what I mean, please don't joke about it. I want to see you again. Promise you'll come back to me.' It was a promise I was happy to make.

'I promise I will come back to you. I think I'm a little in love with you already, frightening as that may seem.' She smiled up at me then, a sweet devastating smile.

'Do you really mean that?' she said quietly as she hugged me, her face pressed against my chest. I stroked her long dark hair.

'Oh yes. There's no way you'll get rid of me that easily. Tomorrow, I promise I'll come back tomorrow,' and I reluctantly took my leave of her, out through the back door, and garden gate. She stood just inside the back door and waved to me as I made my way along the river path and out of sight. Walking along the path on my way home, I kept thinking of her and that line from Shakespeare's Macbeth, 'Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.'

I kept my promise.

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