Once upon a time, a hundred years ago, I worked in an office in Auckland close to a public park, with hectares of beautiful trees, duck ponds and private areas to walk or sit. Idyllic spots abounded where one could cop a squat to enjoy the ambiance and beauty of such a magnificent place, with spectacular views to the Hauraki Gulf and where the great volcanic conical snout of Rangitoto Island rises up from the sea. On any given day there'd be yachts aplenty with brightly colored sails and depending on the wind, spinnakers flying free and high as the sunlight sparkled like diamonds upon the ocean blue to bedazzle the eyes of the viewer.
A favored place, I loved going to the park during my lunch hour; lived for the chance to escape outside and went there daily, come rain or shine. When it was warm, I'd be there in a quick five minute walk, sprawled on the grass, removing the wide-brimmed straw hat I donned. My high heels and suit jacket too, if there had been a nip in the air, and lastly I’d let down my hair from the knot I normally kept it in at work.
It was my daily treat to just relax completely for forty minutes or so and veg out in my favorite spot where I'd eat my sandwich and read my book in peace.
The place I chose was actually quite private, shady with trees on all sides, and just off the beaten track. It gave me the perfect blend of privacy, sun and shelter. It happened that it was also in a slight depression so that I was almost invisible to anyone passing as I lay there in the grass, unless you happened to walk on top of me.
A favored place, I loved going to the park during my lunch hour; lived for the chance to escape outside and went there daily, come rain or shine. When it was warm, I'd be there in a quick five minute walk, sprawled on the grass, removing the wide-brimmed straw hat I donned. My high heels and suit jacket too, if there had been a nip in the air, and lastly I’d let down my hair from the knot I normally kept it in at work.
It was my daily treat to just relax completely for forty minutes or so and veg out in my favorite spot where I'd eat my sandwich and read my book in peace.
The place I chose was actually quite private, shady with trees on all sides, and just off the beaten track. It gave me the perfect blend of privacy, sun and shelter. It happened that it was also in a slight depression so that I was almost invisible to anyone passing as I lay there in the grass, unless you happened to walk on top of me.
One rather memorable day, I'd been reading about Ayla and Jondalar from one of Jean M. Auel's marvelous books from a series about Earth’s Children and had reached the part where Jondalar was sharing a ceremony with Ayla and the Mother's Gift of Pleasures. After peering around to be sure I was indeed alone, I immersed myself in the story once more and became stirred to excitement as the erotic scene unfolded in front of me. I undid a couple of buttons on my skirt and reached through and beneath my panties to stroke myself.
Lost in a world of my own, captivated by the words on the page that were vividly playing out in my mind. Lying stretched out on my side, the book now casually discarded beyond my outstretched hand that flexed and grabbed at the grass. I arched my neck back and closed my eyes to the shafts of sunshine that caught me in the face through the tree branches. Panting softly, I felt the heat rise, my juices flow and surrendered to the fantasy and the sheer naughtiness of the moment.
On the verge of climax, the sound of a zipper unraveling instantly startled me into awareness again. I found myself staring into the eyes of a handsome young stranger about my own age. He lay on the grass opposite and facing me, my straw hat tucked firmly under his arm. Perhaps the light breeze had picked it up and flung it his way. He'd slid a hand into his underwear, released his cock and was stroking himself slowly from crown to root and back again in front of me.
Lost in a world of my own, captivated by the words on the page that were vividly playing out in my mind. Lying stretched out on my side, the book now casually discarded beyond my outstretched hand that flexed and grabbed at the grass. I arched my neck back and closed my eyes to the shafts of sunshine that caught me in the face through the tree branches. Panting softly, I felt the heat rise, my juices flow and surrendered to the fantasy and the sheer naughtiness of the moment.
On the verge of climax, the sound of a zipper unraveling instantly startled me into awareness again. I found myself staring into the eyes of a handsome young stranger about my own age. He lay on the grass opposite and facing me, my straw hat tucked firmly under his arm. Perhaps the light breeze had picked it up and flung it his way. He'd slid a hand into his underwear, released his cock and was stroking himself slowly from crown to root and back again in front of me.
Frozen, stilled into shock by his sudden appearance, I simply stared unsure in that moment what to do. How could I not have heard his approach? I remember the rising heat of the blush that flamed my neck and cheeks; how I couldn't breathe yet felt my heartbeat thundering madly in my veins. My first instinct was panic, to flee; to leap to my feet and run off. I’m laughing as I recall as I was a long distance runner in those days and what I lacked in speed, I made up for in stamina.
But he just smiled at me, brought his fingers to his lips in a shushing motion then gazed to where my wet fingers still lay before moving lower and to the view beyond. He licked his lips and he really was rather cute...
Something passed between us.
Though we never said a word to one another, as if by some mutual unspoken agreement, we resumed our play. We each watched the other. The excitement of seeing and the thrill of what we were doing in broad daylight in a public park no less – not to mention we were perfect strangers – had us
But he just smiled at me, brought his fingers to his lips in a shushing motion then gazed to where my wet fingers still lay before moving lower and to the view beyond. He licked his lips and he really was rather cute...
Something passed between us.
Though we never said a word to one another, as if by some mutual unspoken agreement, we resumed our play. We each watched the other. The excitement of seeing and the thrill of what we were doing in broad daylight in a public park no less – not to mention we were perfect strangers – had us
both on the verge of climax in minutes. Biting the knuckles of my free hand, my eyes remained glued to the mesmerizing movements of his hand as he quickened the rhythm in a fascinating show. I came hard – still too loudly, even with the fist I'd jammed into my open mouth. He was suddenly groaning his own enjoyment, spilling his seed in a heated rush and spurting on to the grass between us. Thrilling me completely.
After resting for a moment, we grinned at one another, tidied ourselves up and walked away in opposite directions.
I never saw him again, but the following afternoon I cautiously returned to my spot, where I found a fresh bunch of freesias. They lay in a posy where I'd lain on the grass. I looked about me warily, still somewhat unsettled by my brazen behavior of the previous day, yet eventually relaxed when I realized I was indeed alone. Bringing the flowers to my nose, I drank in their perfume that to this day still makes me smile in remembrance. Were they from him? Who knows... I’d like to think so.
After resting for a moment, we grinned at one another, tidied ourselves up and walked away in opposite directions.
I never saw him again, but the following afternoon I cautiously returned to my spot, where I found a fresh bunch of freesias. They lay in a posy where I'd lain on the grass. I looked about me warily, still somewhat unsettled by my brazen behavior of the previous day, yet eventually relaxed when I realized I was indeed alone. Bringing the flowers to my nose, I drank in their perfume that to this day still makes me smile in remembrance. Were they from him? Who knows... I’d like to think so.
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