A Fruitful Evening
Zara’s face was flushed. She was grunting and moaning, and shoving herself against something firm and hard.
We were out in our garden, and she was digging a hole for a small pear tree we had just bought at our favorite nursery. I couldn’t help noticing how sexual it all seemed, her actions and sounds all going straight to my clit, as I sat in the lawn chair and watched her struggle with the job at hand. Her delicate hands, gripping the handle of the shovel as she shoved, and pushed, and make me wish I was the one she was shoving and pushing “ shoving me down onto our bed and pushing herself inside me. She would barely even need to ask right now, and I’d say yes, yes, yes! But it had been months since we’d gotten sweaty, done dirty things, or twisted the sheets into a mess of sweat and wetness and clear signs of fucking. Today, though, today I had talked her into trying something new.
Underneath her shorts, inside her black, cotton panties, and buried inside her ass was a small, sky-blue plug, vibrating away, and though I couldn’t see it, couldn’t even hear it, I knew it was there, moving against her tightness, spreading her wide “ but not too wide, no, just the right amount “ and I was the only one, besides her, who knew it was there. I found myself thinking back to that morning, to when I slid it into her…I remembered it clear as anything, the picture of the lubed-up plug slowly, slowly sliding into her ass, as I gently pushed it in. She’d made happy noises then, as I’d guessed she would, and though I’d wanted to tackle her to the bed, and fuck her but good, I hadn’t. I wanted her aching for it, begging for it, and all day long, there would be that reminder, telling her what was waiting once all the day’s activities were done, once we were alone, in our bed, and then, then I’d slide it out, gentle as when I’d put it in, and I’d get out our sadly ignored strap-on, and spread her wide again, but first, first, I’d let her choose where the bright red dick would enter her. And then, hopefully, it would be like it was, when we first met, that sweaty, sheet-gripping, hardcore fucking that we’d always done so well. I wanted all of her, for her to be mine, mine to overpower, mine to fuck, and mine to fill, my dick sliding in, quick and easy, slicked up with either her wetness, or shiny with lube. It would be up to her, where she got fucked, and I didn’t really care if she chose her ass or her cunt. I just wanted to touch her, to make her gasp, and moan, and come, screaming, her lips close to my ear, her sounds so loud and lovely, turning me on like nothing else ever could. I would be soaking wet, too, wetter, even, than I was right now, picturing all the things I wanted to do to her, all the dirty acts on my very long list.
But first was dinner, and maybe some reading, and before all of that, she had to finish her digging. Her face was covered in beads of sweat, and so I got up from my chair and walked over to her, and placed my hand “ gently “ on her back, kissed her cheek, and asked her if I could help.