I sleep with my gardener as well.
I hadn’t really thought about it much until we moved locally about a mile to our present area. The new garden needed a lot of work and effort put into it to change it from wilderness to respectable. Me, I just like pottering, my wife likes ‘gardening’ as she puts it.
The family joke started when, early that spring, I was doing some of the heavy work Jan couldn't manage. It was early evening and I was on my own out the front of our plot. It’s a reasonable size and I was out of earshot of the house. While I was leaning on my rake having a breather, an old dear who I’d never seen before stopped to talk. I should add that when I work on the garden I tend to be archetypal scruffy, more like a bum. It wasn’t until afterward that I realised just how much so on this occasion.
The blue-rinse lady had stopped to chat.
“I’m glad to see that someone is doing something about the mess at last,” she said. “It’s been making the neighbourhood look down at heel.”
It was then I realised that she must have taken me for the hired help, rather than the owner. In typical fashion she ploughed on without waiting for comment, “It’s so difficult to find a ’good’ gardener these days!”
I grunted something to the effect that it was difficult, especially with the cost of pay that was required.
She looked at me closely. “What do you charge?” she asked.
“Fifteen dollars an hour,“ I responded, off the top of my head. I didn’t know the going rate!
“That’s very reasonable,“ she said, “Do you have a card so that I might call you if I need some help?”
Now at this point my sense of humour began to get the better of me, I should just have let the matter drop.
“No,” I said. “But then I doubt if you would be willing to make up the same perks of the job anyway.”
“Oh, I’m sure we could come to some arrangements,” she said. “I mean, I could supply plenty of refreshments and a midday meal as well.”
”Ah yes,” I said, “But I gets to sleep with the mistress of the house as well.”
Okay, I know I shouldn’t have said it, but she was beginning to bug me by then. She took a moment for this gem to be absorbed, me leaning on the rake, she standing with her mouth hung open. Then she decided she had heard right, spluttered something into thin air, coloured up and strode off muttering to herself.
As I turned back to the job in hand I thought smugly to myself, “That’ll keep the local brigade talking for a bit.”
My other half came round the corner at the trot. “Damn!” she said. “I wanted to catch Mrs Digby. I was told she was the person to speak to over the plans for the school extension. She’s the Head of Governors you know.”
At this point my comment didn’t seem quite so good, but what the hell, so I related the story. Now it has to be said that my lady has a sense of humour that is only slightly less wicked than mine.
Fortunately she saw the funny side and went on, “Well you could have told her that you sleep with the taxi-driver, the cook, the bottle washer and the hairdresser as well.”
“I’ll store that up and use it next time,“ I said. “It’ll give the old bat something to talk about anyway, if she dares.”
Jan muttered something about having to face the old girl, “I’ll never be able to look her in the eye.”
Laughing still, I said, “You’ll think of something.”
In bed that night we were still chuckling at the thought of Mrs Digby’s reaction. Our lovemaking was more intense than it had been for a little bit. In fact I was jumped on! Jan called me ‘the gardener‘ and told me that I ought to be able to ‘make that thing grow and do a little rooting around’. Her kisses started from my forehead, worked their way down my chest and headed south. As Jan was on top this meant that I was able to inspect a ripe pair of peaches on the way past, and very nice they tasted too.
As she moved on down and engulfed my penis with her delightful lips, she pressed home her advantage and I was treated to wild honey pie, my favourite. A quick explosion from her-self as I managed to eat her centre was followed by her spinning round and impaling herself on me. We both came together, me just a half stroke ahead, tasting each others juices on our lips as the ecstasy took our breath away.
As we were drifting off to sleep Jan said, “That was good, perhaps next time I’ll be the hairdresser.”
I was amused, it was almost the first time Jan had admitted to having any fantasy’s. She didn’t need them she said, or perhaps she just felt she didn’t want to upset me. Me, sometimes I did fantasise about the hairdresser, Jill was a drink on a stick, but I didn’t really want Jan to know that I thought that way. I would have loved to bed Jill, but well, relaxed marriage or not I had never had the chance. I didn’t think Jill would reciprocate my lust anyway. In fact Jan does my hair; It was one of those things she had wanted to master earlier in life and never had the chance. Jill ran an evening course at the local school, there were some spaces left so Jan had joined and been properly taught.
That was some months ago.
The fun really started last night though. Jan had a phone call from a friend who had moved away, about twenty miles. They hadn’t seen each other for a couple of months and Sheila asked Jan over that evening. I was planning a report for the office, so I didn’t mind. It would let me work at home without being disturbed.
After about an hour there was a ring at the front door. Wondering who it might be I went to answer and found Jill, the hairdresser stood there with arms full, as usual, of hairdressing kit. Rather than have her stand on the door I invited her in. As she stepped past the mat she caught her toe and I suddenly had my arms full of hairdressing accouterments and one delectable hairdresser. It caught me off balance and I fell flat on my back on the floor with Jill on top, bits and pieces crashing everywhere. As we lay there, me underneath, winded and trying to catch my breath she started to climb off, looked back, leaned forward and kissed me full on the mouth.
“I’m not wasting that opportunity. I don’t get many these day’s," she said. I remembered then that Jan had said that Jill was ’resting’ between affairs as it were. “Where’s Jan?” she continued.
”Out for the evening. She wasn’t expecting you,” I replied.
“Bugger," said Jill. ”Didn’t she mention our conversation?”
My blank look as I sat up and got my breath back was enough response.
“I asked if I might cut your hair tonight. I want to try a new style for the class. It needs hair like yours to work and I think you’ll like it. Jan offered you as a model.”
Now slow on the uptake I am not and the thought of this rather lovely vision bobbing around nice and close definitely appealed. The hell with the office report, Jill could groom me to her hearts content, and I said so.
Shutting the front door, I turned and picked up the assorted bits that Jill had dropped, carried them into the kitchen and put them on the table. As she got ready I put the CD player in the corner on, just something background nondescript, I don’t remember what, filled the coffee pot and set it going.
Jill laughed, “We like our salon comforts then?”
Before I put on the proffered protective top I took my shirt off, she looked a little surprised until I said, “I hate hair clippings down inside my collar, anyway Jan should have told you.”
“Told me what?” said Jill.
“I always have my hair done topless.”
Jill grinned, “No chance buster!”
She combed things into place for a quick look, moved me over to the kitchen sink, removed my glasses, bent me over and washed my hair. Having finished she put a large towel round me, covered me over and sat me back down. She moved back a bit and I heard her pick up her comb and scissors again as I dried things off a bit.
“Not too dry,” she said and took the towel away.
She took my breath away as well. Six inches in front of my eyes were a lovely pair of naked tits, nipples sharpening in the breeze.
“So I changed my mind Sven, just look, no touchies. I know you and Jan are liberally minded, but don’t think that that goes for me. Just look!”
The grin on my face had obviously spoken volumes. Before she could say anything, or start styling I held her bum lightly and pulled her forward a fraction and kissed both of her nipples very quickly before she stop me. She gasped and dropped the comb into my lap where it landed on my rising erection.
“Now see what you’ve done,” she said.
“No see what you’ve done,“ I replied as her fingers touched the rapidly increasing bump in my trouser front.
Her fingers lingered for a second, her eyes slightly wide, her mouth open a little. She looked at me and I kissed her properly. She sat down suddenly onto my lap and putting her arms behind my head kissed me. As her tongue sought mine, thoughts of hair styling receded. I undid the snap of her skirt and she stood up quickly and took it off, hanging it over the back of one of the other chairs. She sat back down on my lap, facing me, a leg either side and kissed me again.
After a moment or two I stood up and she stepped back. She kissed me again as she undid my trouser belt, bending quickly she slid them off, pants and all. She gasped slightly as I bounced free, then I gasped as she bent downward and captured the head of my penis in her mouth slurping at it rather than kissing. As she let go and stood back up, we held each other close, my burgeoning erection now uncomfortably hard and busy trying to burrow it’s way home. I slid my fingers inside her panties and slid them down to a point where she kicked them off. As she stood in front of me I sat back down on the chair kissing my way down her front as I did. I reached the point of her delta and realised that her trimmed centre was wet, that lovely fount begging to be dipped into. Without hesitation I sipped, my tongue lapping at Jills’ beautiful honey pot. When she couldn’t take any more she moved forward and sat down again in my lap, carefully positioning herself to touch the tip of my straining cock before anything else. I gasped as she sat on top, sliding me into her hot, slippery, grasping depths in one continuous flowing motion.
She kissed me again, working her tongue and clenching muscles deep inside her at the same time. Our breathing grew ragged as we reached the edge, and then felt as if it stopped as we fell over the precipice of orgasm. I spasmed once, twice, three times as I emptied my soul into this delectable creature speared on my being. Then we both went limp and I had to stop her from falling off.
”Jeesus H!” Jill exclaimed, as she breathed for the first time in what seemed an age. “I’m not used to that strength of coffee or whatever it was caused that. I don’t think I could stand too many at that Richter level.”
I kissed her gently before I said, “Didn’t Jan tell you, I always sleep with my hairdresser. Don’t you?”
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