The Garden Recondite Pt. 05

And then lunch to follow, with thick, curving asparagus shoots on a plate, each suggestively drizzled with Hollandaise sauce in a most naughty way as if each thick shoot had ejaculated the sauce. Each girl picking up a shoot and sucking the sauce from it in a most improper way. Such a giggle but so sexual, so tinglingly erotic.

Siobhan looked at Danielle and Danielle looked at Siobhan, their eyes moving to indicate the erection. They were smiling.

"There's you are, me in natural state. What could be finer o' an a'ternoon? Me old asparagus spear!"

He took them, once more, by their hands and they moved on. He continued to talk, pointing things out - and not just pointing with his fingers! Danielle's eyes kept returning to the thing which showed not the slightest sign of abating its tumescence, almost as if its shiny head was drawing strength from the sun in much the same way as the green leaves of the plants all around the garden. She had a momentary thought of it gradually turning green and the colour spreading down his shaft and across his hips until his whole body, even his hair, turned green. A green man indeed, a man producing chlorophyll, a plant man - and like plants he would have his seed and she knew where that would come from!

Across the lawn came a pair of terriers, sniffing and exploring, as dogs do, but they also seemed to have a particular interest in each other. Were they the gardener's pets?

Danielle watched the two terriers, watched as the dog got up on the bitch's back as they copulated. It was not a long engagement. Such a quick act. The old man laughed, seeming to know what she was thinking. "Yer should hear t' hedgepigs a-goin' at night. Seems t' pair o' 'em go at it for hours."

Above Danielle pairs of butterflies twirled together. There was carnal, mating activity all around. And for her too there was a feeling. The dampness between her legs was beginning to trickle down her thighs, she could see a run of moisture on her friend's inner thigh as well. She thought it would be rather nice if rather than holding hands the gardener's brown, thick fingers slipped between her thighs or at least caressed a hard nipple. Nice but not really appropriate. The garden did seem to be having a funny effect on her - or was it simply the summer heat?

And then, all of a sudden it came to her, they had walked all around the garden at least twice on the bricked path and lawn but had not seen the door. It was missing - there was no door. Where was it, the old green door in the wall? The door back to the street, back to outside the garden, back to the ordinary, back to the mundane street.

"Where... where's the door?" She looked frantically around, worried and almost frightened. What had happened to it.

"Tis all out there. Look!" With one simple movement the gardener lifted Danielle up in his arms and held her up high above him so she could just see over old orange wall that surrounded the garden. He was holding her by her hips and lifting her high. She could feel his warm breath on her pubic hair.

Outside the wall, all was as before. Danielle from her vantage point could just see over. The sun beat down on the old orange brickwork, the occasional car drove past the empty seat that Danielle had waited upon so many times. There it was, in the shade of the big old tree. A lorry went by banging over the loose grating and making a far off clanking noise. The noise she knew it would make. The grumpy old man came across the road lifting his hat and mopping his forehead with a handkerchief. All was as before.

The gardener let her slide slowly down his body, clasped to him, she felt the easy rub of skin on skin, easy as the perspiration made them glide with very little resistance. It was a smooth, almost slippery movement. His chest to her thighs, chest hair and pubic hair mingling, and then her thighs against his stomach and her breasts against his grey beard. She knew what was coming next. Had he been a woman their two bodies would simply have slid together as she moved downwards until Danielle's feet touched the ground and her curls merged with the other woman's. Not so with a man - or a man sexually excited - for he had something substantial which would impede her progress, an upstanding fleshy spike that would catch her right between her open legs and stop her reaching the ground.

Had he realised? Had he perhaps forgotten? It seemed unlikely, he was a man after all.

"No, please, I'm a virgin," she said.

Danielle continued to slip slowly downwards. There was no let-up in the way he was letting her down. Her eyes squeezed tight shut in anticipation. She did not really want to do this, well sort of not. Down she slipped until she felt it, the manly thing, firm and upstanding right where it should not be, right where it would fit in,

Her legs dangled free and there, right on her sex, she could feel it, so hard and so smooth, the gardener's upstanding spike ready to spear her.

She kicked a bit but on down she went. The pressure growing. He was so big, such a big thing to be pushing at her tender little sex. Her legs moved right and left, feeble little kicks but the movement rather than dislodging it seemed to settle her the more on the thing, seemed, if anything, the wriggling was allowing it to slip in. More and more of her weight was being transferred to that point on her body

Danielle's eyes opened wide as she stared straight ahead feeling and knowing, for the first time in her little life, a penis was pushing into her and not just simply sticking its eye in for a little peek, no, it was going exploring. On down she went towards the ground accompanied by the penis' movement up inside her, as it nosed its way into her unexplored 'cavern.' Even when it could go no further her feet still did not touch the ground. Held against the perspiration slipperiness of the man, his skin against her skin, his hard body and hard penis against her softness, she was a prisoner. Unable to get purchase on the ground to lift herself off his spike; unable to move left or right because of the long inches of the rigid penis up inside her; unable to climb up his body and off it because of their mingled and slippery perspiration, Danielle was securely held as effectively as if a chain was manacled to her ankle. There was nothing she could do but let the man have his way with her unless, perhaps Siobhan...

But her friend was just looking, and not at all with alarm: indeed the movement of her tongue over her lips to say nothing of the way one thigh was moving against the other more suggested a girl enjoying what she was seeing, indeed rather wishing it was her not Danielle.

The man lifted Danielle, he had purchase under her arms, her breasts and nipples sliding against his skin and the feel of penis sliding within vagina so nice, but...

Down and then up again she went as the man established a regular rhythm. Like a little doll, Danielle was being bounced on a cock. It was lovely, such a feeling, the delight of a man's hardness within her, stroking her where she wanted to be stroked, but...

The so delicate touch of his curls right on her clit, she could feel how engorged it was and how responsive to stimuli. Surely she was not going to come? She never came this quickly, not in bed with her own fingers and thoughts: this, though, was not in bed and she was not just with her own thoughts. Surely the building feeling was not really an orgasm, she should not be responding in this way, really she should not be, but...

It was a bit shattering as orgasms go. She felt her wetness pouring from her. A tingling, rushing feeling making her not just wince but become totally relaxed, quite unable to do anything but submit to what was being done to her.

It must have been obvious to Siobhan what had happened and obvious to the man. Perhaps Siobhan had seen her wetness dripping to the grass. She was certainly watching with not inconsiderable interest. The man paused, leaving her still with his penis enclosed within and stretching her now so sensitive vagina.

Carefully he lifted her up and off and set her back upon the lawn. Between her legs still the feeling of fullness, her vagina had not flattened and she could still feel how stretched she had been, how opened by the penis. She was breathing hard and looking at the man. His erection stood as strong as ever, pointing up close to his stomach, the foreskin well pulled back and the bifurcated head in full view. It was as before, except his penis was now wet. There was, as yet, no Hollandaise dressing his asparagus.

Danielle looked to her friend, looked for support, for Siobhan to say something but her friend's eyes were on the man's organ. Danielle collapsed on the grass, her legs not able to support her. At least the man had not completed the act, or at least she thought he had not. She was not experienced.

"Please," Siobhan said to the man and Danielle watched, almost in disbelief, as the girl lay down upon the green grass and opened her thighs.

It was not a sight Danielle had seen before and like the rest of her friend, she could not but regard Siobhan's sex as pretty. A coral oval fringed with golden, flame red curls, the sexual entrance to her body obvious. Danielle looked from it to the pool at the centre of the garden and back again. The pool too was oval in shape, very much female, yet rising from its centre the stone column with its gently rising fountain. It had not seemed that way before but now she looked at it in a different way, or perhaps somehow it had changed, but the representation of the male sexual organ above the female was now so clear.

Standing erect in the centre of the oval pool, an oval full of silky wetness - had not Danielle felt its water on her skin - the column's capital now seemed more rounded, giving the column a particularly phallic appearance and from its top issued a steady stream - the inference obvious to even a virgin, or just ex-virgin, like Danielle. And within the pool the fishes swam hither and thither perhaps searching for girls like she half remembered they had done the other day. The symbolism of the fishes as clear as day. Spermatozoa swimming in semen, swimming within the oval, within the vagina of a girl.

"Siobhan, you mustn't." It had not been Danielle's intention to engage in coitus: it had not been her doing. What was Siobhan thinking of?

But Siobhan either was not listening or ignored what Danielle said, as usual. The man moved towards her, his big male organ so ready to enter her, wet, really wet from his recent time witiin Danielle and he knelt. Siobhan watched as the man presented it to her friend's sex, stared as the head slipped inside the girl before the man lay down atop her, Siobhan's feet coming up over his back and her ankles locking together as his bottom began to rise and fall.

It was copulation, as much as the two terriers had been at it, and Danielle was watching it happen right there before her eyes.

The bottom rose and fell. There were sucking sounds disturbing the peace of the garden, overlaying the quiet sound of the bees. There were little gasps from her friend, sounds she had not heard before. Siobhan was just so clearly enjoying what she was doing and the awful thing was Danielle could not deny how nice her orgasm had been, how good it had felt to be filled. Almost she wanted to lie down next to her friend and open her own thighs, offer herself like Siobhan had done, expose her dark curls and her pool of wetness to the sun and hope the gardener would choose to rise from Siobhan and slip into her once again. The thought of his large organ pushing into her, opening her as she lay on the grass was so exciting to Danielle. Her recent orgasm had not satiated her. She was a girl ready, no more than that, more than that. a girl really wanting to copulate.

The deed was done. Danielle knew it, could tell just from the sounds and actions of the participants. She knew her friend, like her, had come; knew too that the man had experienced his own climax; knew that he had released his semen into her friend. And as he rose from the girl, sliding his erection from her body she caught a momentary glimpse of her friend's sex, not simply exposed but open and with a trail of creamy white stuff leading from it and across a thigh where the man had dripped. She looked from it to his erection and saw the self-same stuff leaking just like the juice that had come from the aubergine like fruit the other day...

Danielle's eyes opened wide at her recollection of the splitting oozing fruit; her eyes wide as she remembered their other visits, the other sexual experiences in the garden - the lawn mower, the fish, the aubergine like fruit, the pumpkin patch and the strange tendrils and other experiences. Shock, but the desire for more. Her body still so aroused even if her mind was saying other things, warning her she should not be liking all this.

She wanted more.

Siobhan hugged Danielle to her, their damp naked bodies pulled together, Siobhan's breasts on her breasts, their tummies and sexual hair meeting. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed. Freshly orgasmed, in heat even, her friend looked prettier than ever. There was such a vitality and colour to her. The touch of Siobhan's lips to her cheek, the feel of her naked body exciting. She wanted to touch Siobhan, feel the man's stuff in her sex, push her fingers in and feel the softness and what the man had left behind. That was not like her. She squeezed her friend back, feeling the hard points of her nipples against her own breasts and then pushed away.

Had her friend remembered? Danielle looked at the man and saw the strength of his penis waning as she knew must happen after ejaculation. An Autumn penis perhaps. It was a disappointment nonetheless. Really she wanted to feel it again. Danielle wanted to feel his hardness, feel the strength of his penis in her hand and push it into her body. That was not to be.

She could see by his look that he had noticed the sadness in her face. He reached and his hand touched her hand and pressed something into her palm.

"We should go," said Siobhan reaching for her clothes.

The door was there, just as it had been when they entered.

Siobhan almost skipped across the grass towards it, but Danielle was thoughtful. At the door she turned and looked back, the old gardener was still standing there, perhaps it was a trick of the light, perhaps the light reflecting off the green plants but he looked even more the green man than before. There seemed a tinge of green about him, although the kerchief around his neck was just as red as before. She waved and stepped through the door.

Outside the wall, all was as it had been. The sun beat down on the old orange brickwork, a car drove past and the girls walked across the road. As one they sat on the old green wooden bench and together looked back at the green door. It had closed it behind them.

"I can't believe that," said Danielle.

"What?" asked her friend.

"What happens in that garden?"

"Which garden?"

Danielle turned to her friend, a puzzled look on her face, "it must be magic mustn't it? A magical garden just there beyond the wall, a garden of, um, erotic delight."

Siobhan burst into laughter, "Oh, that garden - if there is one - I've never come up with that idea! Danielle really! What sort of erotic delights, do tell!"

Danielle just stared. How could Siobhan have forgotten? Minutes before she had been...

"Come on, Danny," Siobhan took her hand, "is it the sun? Let's go for an ice cream and you can tell me more!"

Danielle opened her hand, there in her palm rested an old key. It was an invitation to return. She closed her hand and looked at the old green door. Did she dare do that again with, or perhaps, without Siobhan?