The Gardener

The morning was still as Lucy sits on her back patio. She can feel a warming energy from the sun's rays as it breaks through the trees, hitting her skin. Somewhere in the distance a Pied Butcherbird sings its beautiful song. Enjoying the moment, Lucy smiles to herself, closes her eyes and lets the sun creep across her face. With eyes shut, she takes in a number of deep breaths and listens to the melodic whistle of the birdsong.

Abruptly, Lucy's morning reverie is broken by the sound of a car making its way up her driveway. Coming out of a state of meditation, she opens her eyes, slightly annoyed that her morning reverie has been broken. She quickly begins to wonder who has arrived. She isn't expecting visitors and was hoping for a quiet morning, lounging about in her homebody, active wear. Checking her phone, she suddenly remembers that Mike, her gardener, is due that day.

Mike comes through once a fortnight in the summer and had been managing the garden on the property for years. They were beautifully kept, with a mixture of tidy lawn, tropical trees, accompanied with lush undergrowth and surrounded by natives on the outskirts of the property. It was one of the reasons that Lucy bought the property a little over a year ago. So, it made sense to keep Mike on, the property was too big to manage it alone, he really knew his stuff and was an endearing older gentleman.

Listening to the crunch of stones under boots as he approached the backyard, Lucy stands up with coffee in hand and walks over to the edge of the patio to greet him. But as she looks at the approaching figure, the face greeting her isn't Mike's. The person looking back is younger than him, a faded trucker cap obscuring his eyes from the morning sun. Though as he comes closer, she notices that he has kind, deep-set brown eyes and a five o'clock shadow -- he smiles.

"Sorry, can I help you?"

"Morning, I'm here to do the garden."

"Oh, umm ok. I was expecting Mike."

As Lucy finishes her last sentence, she vaguely recalls Mike telling her that he would be away for a few weeks and that somebody else would fill in for him.

"Actually, sorry, I just remembered Mike telling me that he was going to be on holiday. I had spoken to him about a couple of things I was hoping to have done this week..."

"All good. He has given me clear instructions for the next couple of weeks."

"Ok great, I'll leave you to it then."

He smiles again before passing by Lucy without another word and heads down the back of the property. She catches herself watching him walk away, and cannot help but notice that beneath the worn, casual tee is a body that is not unfamiliar to manual labour. His arms noticeably firm, are bronzed along with his legs, another sign of spending his time outdoors. Lucy turns to go inside and in doing so catches a woody aromatic smell lingering in the air from his cologne. Suddenly self-aware of her attire and bed hair, she rushes inside.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'What the fuck?' Lucy thinks to herself. She is lying in bed, drowsy having just woken from a dream. Even though the morning is warm, she pulls the doona up to her chin, feeling into the comfort that its weight brings. Closing her eyes again, she tries unsuccessfully to dive back into the dream. At least to recall it and piece it back together in her lucid state. 'It was intense' she tells herself. She can feel the physical response to it. Underneath her top, Lucy's nipples are hard. Down lower a feeling of wetness. 'Damn it' she thinks to herself. The dreams details elude her, but she knows that it had something to do with the gardener from the day before.

Too aroused to simply jump out of bed and start the day, Lucy gently allows her fingers to trace her body. One hand slides up and under her top circling her breasts, the other heads in the opposite direction, finding its home between her thighs.

She hears the Pied Butcherbird start up its song in the distance.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arriving home from the hairdresser, Lucy pulls up in the driveway to the sound of garden equipment in her backyard. Heading inside she places the keys down on the bench and goes to her room. She stands in front of the mirror, tussling her hair a bit, throwing it over the side and back again. Happy with what the hairdresser has done, she begins to play with her blouse unconsciously, untucking it at first and then changing her mind and tucking just the one side into her denim shorts.

She then adjusts another button from the top. 'What the fuck am I doing?' she asks herself suddenly, 'it's just the bloody gardener'. Fixing the buttons back up again she can't help to take one last glance in the mirror. Staring back at her is a woman with long legs, their contour highlighted by a summers tan. Her waist and shapely ass are accentuated in the denim shorts that she is wearing. Now close to forty, she is aware that not that many people would be able to guess her age, always having made the effort to take care of herself.

Stepping out onto the back patio, Lucy sees the gardener using the whipper snipper to tend to the garden edges. His back is turned, and she can see the effect of the day's work in the sun. His khaki work shirt is wet, sticking to his body. It grabs at his torso, shaping his lats as he works the lawn over with the whipper snipper, moving left and right. He turns the machine off, removes the earmuffs and adjusts his hat. Lucy clears her throat, and he turns around.

"Hey, morning."

"More like afternoon" she replies with a smile.

"Ahh so it is" he says, ignoring his watch, instead looking up at the sun as if to confirm the time.

He pulls the whipper snipper strap, up and over his chest. It causes his shirt to lift, and she catches a glimpse of his torso. He puts it down and starts to walk over as he rolls up his shirt sleeves and dusts off his blue jeans. They are dirty with grass, faded and worn in places, but are well fitted to his body, with the cuffs tucked into his ankle high work boots. As he gets closer Lucy picks up the same woody aroma from the first meeting.

Suddenly she has a flash of memory, only it isn't a memory, it's a moment from the dream two weeks ago. It had escaped Lucy in the drowsiness of the morning and left her only with a feeling. Now she can see it as clearly as if it were happening. He, the gardener, has her in his arms. Lifted off the ground, her legs are wrapped around his waist, pressed hard against his body and his hands are holding her up, grabbing tightly to the underside of Lucy's thighs. He is inside of her.

The flashback only lasts a split second, but it is long enough for Lucy to missed what he was saying to her. "Sorry?" she replies as her cheeks and the side of her neck turn red. A sudden change in complexion that doesn't escape his eyes.

"Lemons" he says pointing to a basket on the patio table. "You tree was full of them, and they look nice and ripe."

"Oh, right, thanks" Lucy replies.

"You, OK?" he asks with a smile forming on his face. A soft, disarming smile.

"Yeah, I'm good" she responds, trying to sound nonchalant. Lucy quickly changes the topic back to the lemons so that he doesn't have a chance to follow his line of questioning and point out her blushing cheeks.

"I think I might go inside and make some lemonade."

"Well you know what they say, when life gives you lemons" he replies, smiling again.

She is thankful for the awkward joke and smiles back before turning on her heels to go inside. Taking the opportunity to glance back over her shoulder slightly as she reaches the door, she notices that he is watching her walk away.

"Hey" he calls.

She stops and looks back at him.

"I like your hair cut."

With that he turns and heads back into the garden. 'Well, I guess I better make lemonade now' she thinks to herself, heading to the kitchen.

A couple of hours pass and its warm with the sun high in the sky. Lucy decides to offer the gardener some of the home-made lemonade. Taking the jug from the fridge and topping it with ice, she pours some in a glass to taste it. It is sweet and refreshing, with the right amount of zing. Grabbing a couple of fresh glasses, Lucy carries it outside, places it on the table with the ice clinking against the glass.

Heading down onto the lawn to find the gardener she spots him around the corner. He is bending forward to pick up a full wheelbarrow. As he grabs the handles she can tell that it's heavy by the way his forearms tense and his veins show. His shirt is still wet from sweat, pronouncing his round shoulders. Standing upright, it reveals that his shirt is open at its front.

He is facing the sun. She can clearly see the glistening of sweat, mixed with dust across his torso. As he comes to stand up, his abs tense slightly along with his chest, before the muscles relax as his arms take the weight of the wheelbarrow, the shape of his lower obliques visible as the line disappears into his jeans. Clearly, his body has been shaped by the land she decides

"You look like you could use some lemonade."

"That'd be great, I'll be over in just a sec."

He takes the wheelbarrow over to a garden bed and dumps its contents. As he walks over to the patio, he removes his gloves. She can't help but to wonder if his hands are smooth or rough to the touch. Shaking the thought from her mind she brings herself back to the present and pours the lemonade into the two glasses.

Accepting the glass graciously he takes a long drink. Pauses. And then another.

"This is great, do you mind if I pour myself another."

"No, go ahead. Please take a seat."

Placing his gloves on the table, he sits down and reaches across the table to take the jug, pouring himself another glass.

"How did you come to work with Mike?"

"He is my uncle. I run my own business but help him out when he needs."

"Gardening?"

"Sorry?"

"Your business?"

"Ahh yes, sorry. It is a gardening business, my uncle got me started in it, but I like it. Keeps me outside and my hands busy."

Lucy takes a sip of her lemonade. Whilst he casts a look back over the garden.

"How long have you been living here" he asks.

"Almost two years now."

"It's a beautiful spot."

"Thanks. But your uncle can take some of the credit for that. And I love how quiet and private it is."

"It is...private" he says, almost as if only now noticing.

They both let that thought hang in the air for a moment.

"Well, I am glad that my uncle asked me to help out."

"Oh yeah, why is that?"

He smiles once more. But doesn't respond. Instead, he takes another sip of lemonade, staring down the glass back at her. Lucy smiles back awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. To her relief he breaks the momentary silence first.

"Thanks for the lemonade, very refreshing. I better get back to it."

He gets up and makes his way off the patio, down towards the garden. Lucy watches him walk away for a moment and then walks around the table to pack away the glasses and lemonade. She doesn't notice him coming back, with full she turns to head into the kitchen and almost collides into him. He instinctively places a hand onto the small of Lucy's back to alert her of his presence, saving her from spilling the lemonade all over the both of them.

"Sorry! I didn't see you there."

"That's ok" he says. "Close one."

"We nearly ended up with this lemonade all over us." She laughs.

He joins her laugh. "My fault, I forgot my gloves."

Once again, Lucy catches the woody scent of his cologne, only this time it is combined with spring grasses and musk. Then she notices that his hand is still on her lower back.

"I didn't answer your question before" he says.

He takes the jug of lemonade from Lucy and places it back on the table. She follows his lead and places the glasses down.

"I'm glad my uncle asked me to help out because it isn't often that I get to work on beautiful grounds with an equally beautiful owner."

Caught off guard, Lucy gulps to swallow words that she doesn't have and blushes again. His hand presses more firmly against her lower back. When he doesn't feel any resistance from her, he brings Lucy in closer. Leaning forward his lips meet hers. She parts hers invitingly, he responds in kind and his kiss becomes more passionate.

'Fuck, what's going on here' Lucy thinks to herself as he breaks the kiss. He looks at her with a grin. There is silence between them as he begins to unbutton her blouse. She is nervous, and if he is, he doesn't show it. There is a calm and confidence in his demeanor. He reaches the last button, and her blouse falls open. He looks down over her cleavage, taking in her breasts, and looks back up at her face. Now it is her turn to lean in and kiss him.

His hands slide under her open shirt. She cannot help but note that they are mostly smooth with some rough areas but still glides gently across her skin. His right hand comes around to her back and traces a line up her spine. Expertly and with a flick of his fingers he has unclasped Lucy's bra. It is strapless and simply falls away. Bringing her hands to his shoulders, she slide his shirt down over them, pulling it down his arms and letting it drop to the floor.

She presses herself up against his chest as he moves his kisses to her earlobe and down along the neck. Lucy feels her nipples harden as they find his body, she can feel his sweat against her skin. His lips continue their downwards movement, down along the neck, over her collarbone, then the top of her chest and finally reaching her breasts.

His lips make small, gentle caressing kisses over the top of Lucy's pert breasts. His hands make their way upwards to help his mouth, taking hold of her tits. Cupping her right breast gently, he lifts it to his lips. The nipple feels the sudden warmth of his mouth and then the strong swirl of his tongue around it. His free hand begins to caress her other breast, taking hold of it firmly.

Stepping back, they lean up against the table. His mouth hungrily moves from breast to breast, his tongue feverishly licking at Lucy's nipples. He grabs her by the back of the upper thighs and lifts her up onto the table with strong arms. Gently he lays Lucy down, her legs dangling over the edge. He takes one last chance to lick, suck and kiss her breasts. He toys effortlessly with her nipples, now erect to the point of hurting they are so aroused.

Then he begins to work his way down along her body. Running his tongue in a long stroke from chest to belly button before returning to kisses as he makes his way lower. Reaching her jean shorts, he kisses along her hips, from one side to the other, moving slowly and using the time to unbutton the waistline. Sliding down the zip, he takes both sides in his hands and with the help of Lucy arching slightly to lift her ass off the table, he yanks the shorts along with her underwear in one move down and over her legs, casting them to the side.

Parting Lucy's legs as he kisses his way back up along them. His mouth works its way up one thigh, his hot breath present across the skin complimented with his wet tongue. Teasingly he skips over her wanting vagina, she can literally feel his lips they pass so close, the air from his mouth the only contact, before he begins to make his way down the other thigh.

She knows instantly that her labia have parted, opening like one of the blossoming flowers he has tended to so delicately. She wonders if he will be so delicate with you, part of you hopes that he is, another that he is not.

Lucy can almost feel the blood rush to her clit in your arousal. And he can see just how turned on she is. He draws back closer to her vagina now. He is so close but still doesn't giver her the satisfaction that she is are after. His mouth kisses along the creases of her thighs, whilst his tongue strokes ever so carefully on the outer side of her shaven pussy lips. He then kisses along the short mound of pubic hair that she has left in a strip. He runs his tongue over the hairs, along the tips as they almost stand on end. And then runs his mouth passes down along the other side of her labia.

Lucy couldn't have imagined when she woke in the morning that she would be stretched out on the patio table with the gardener between her legs, begging in her mind for her pussy to be eaten. And finally, he begins to do just that. First soft, long strokes. Tongue lifting off and returning to the beginning after each pass. The strokes becoming firmer, his lips more present as he begins to savour how she tastes, how she smells and how she feels against his tongue.

Then he begins to probe inside of her, exploring her pussy. Raising her legs up, bending at the knees, feet placed firmly on the table, Lucy arches her back, so that she can push her pussy up onto his mouth. She then squeezes her thighs against his head in pleasure.

His mouth expertly devours her, whilst Lucy's hands are on his head willing his tongue deeper. He breaks off, reverting back to long strokes over her pussy before landing on the clit. The tip of his tongue begins to circle around it as he alternates in tempo and pressure. Occasionally he flicks at its centre, with each contact her legs jerk slightly. Lucy raises herself up onto her elbows to get a better view. She wants to take it in. As she raises herself up higher, her blouse falls open to either side of her breasts as a breeze catches the nipples.

He looks up, his eyes meeting hers. Without breaking contact, she reaches for a glass of lemonade and begins to tip it slowly over her chest. A slow, trickling stream of sweet, sugary lemonade cascades down between Lucy's breasts, past her naval, on towards her pussy and his waiting mouth. On cue he starts back at the bottom of her pussy, almost beneath it and tongue extended takes a long lick from the smooth skin below all the way up to the clit. Then continues to lick, suck and kiss his way up along your belly, pausing to suck at the naval and then cleaning her all the way back to her tits. He grabs the ice from the empty glass and looking at her breasts, starts to play with her nipples. The ice melts as the nipples stiffen once more.

The physical sensations grows within her body. She gasps and lets out an audible moan as he reaches between her legs and slides a finger deep inside of her. Leaving her breasts, he smothers the next moan with a deep kiss and Lucy reciprocates, with a passionate, longing kiss of her own. Lucy slowly comes to standing as they are locked in an embrace and feverishly kissing. Eventually both manage to spin so that he is now leaning back on the table.

She reaches for his jeans, fumbling in her desire to tear them off. He helps her pull them down and off. As they come down with his underwear, Lucy watches his hard cock stand upright. She pushes him back onto the table, so that he is lying flat, and climbs up after him. She grasps at his cock, feeling the firm muscle in her hands. With a few quick pumps, then a couple of slower ones, pre-cum slowly drips out of him. Lucy knows it isn't need, she is so wet already but enjoys the visual. Straddling him she guides his cock towards her pussy, and still holding the base, slide down onto him.

Lucy suddenly becomes consciously aware of being up on the table, outside, on her patio in the open air. Until this moment, she had allowed yourself to be swept up in the moment. Thoughts rush to her mind. Could someone just come by the house at any moment and find her riding the gardener. But the thoughts are fleeting, and in that moment all Lucy cares about is having his cock deep inside of her.

She leans forward, bringing her tits to his mouth. He nuzzles into Lucy's breasts, licking at her nipples, teeth grazing the tips. His hands reaches around and grasps at her ass cheeks, squeezing the flesh but allowing her to control the movement. Lucy's knuckles begin to turn white as she leans further forward and grips at the edge of the table. His cock inside of her, Lucy finds the angle to rub her clit against him. The urge inside of her builds, the pace quickens, and then finally, release.