I have always been a keen gardener, acquiring my love of horticulture and vegetable growing as a child, when I spent many a happy summer’s day at the family’s allotment watching my father and his friends cultivating, then invariably competing with each other, as to the size and beauty of their annual crop.

Now I’m all grown up, I am delighted to have an allotment all of my own. It is my retreat you see - a place where I can be alone, and do as I choose, work hard - digging, planting and harvesting, or sometimes just chilling with my book, listening to my music in my potting shed. I even installed a sneaky fridge in my shed – well, you have to have chilled drinks at hand when you work so hard!

It was a hot midweek afternoon, a few months back. I’d arrived at the allotment earlier than normal that day and cheerily said my ‘hellos’ as I made my way down the path to my own piece of land. The neighbouring allotment had remained untended for some time, so I was taken by surprise to see a new guy working there, clearing the weeds and working the soil.

“Hi, you must be my new neighbour,” I called out as I approached. Although I wanted to appear friendly, part of me had enjoyed the fact that my plot was isolated, and I somehow felt a bit miffed at the prospect of having another owner so near to me.

At my greeting, the guy stood up tall from his work and smiled at me. Well, to say I was taken speechless would be an understatement. He was gorgeous! Tall, broad and tanned, he worked without a shirt, wearing only a small pair of rugby shorts and workboots. His thick, dark shoulder length wavy hair was tousled around his face, he pushed a muddy hand through it as he smiled.

“Hi, I’m James, nice to meet you.”

“You too, I’m Michelle,” I managed to stammer back. As I shook his hand, I couldn’t avert my eyes from his wide, smooth chest, and I felt myself blush when his knowing smile made it obvious to me that my wandering eyes had been noticed. We chatted for a while, then I made my way to my potting shed, feeling both very excited about James’s arrival, but also cross that my retreat had now become so near to invasion by this good looking stranger.

The coming weeks saw us fall into an almost daily routine, with me always arriving at the allotment after James. We exchanged polite chat most days, seemingly getting on very well. We even shared the odd glass of wine. There was undeniably a sexual attraction between us, but I tried so hard to act nonchalant, not wanting this to become a distraction from my main purpose of being here. James also remained politely distant, but I just couldn’t help but think that at times, his seemingly seductive removal of his t-shirt was just slightly for my benefit.

Last Tuesday was a particularly hot day, and owing to other commitments, I made it to my plot earlier than normal. I headed into my shed, put on my gloves and began potting up my seeds. I had a clear view of James’s plot from my window, and could also see the back of his tool shed.

James arrived at his usual time, and made his way to his plot.

As normal, he wore old rugby shorts and a t- shirt. I couldn’t help but notice that his amazing body had become even more toned and tanned and his well-defined muscles seemed to ripple as he worked. As I guessed, or hoped he might, I watched as he removed his shirt, his smooth skin shining wet from sweat in the glare of the sun. There was no doubt he was becoming a major distraction for me.

James was unaware of my presence and started to work his land. Suddenly, and for no apparent reason I saw him walk to the back of his shed - and start to unbutton his fly. Naturally, I assumed he was taking a sneaky pee, so what happened next came as a big surprise. Thank God he did not know I was watching.

James leaned back against the wooden panels of the shed, took a drink from his water bottle, and then proceeded to pull down his shorts to just below his thighs. He wore no boxers, and I could see he was semi-aroused already. His cock was only half hard, but already so big. His head back against the shed and with his eyes closed, to my disbelief but also my sheer joy, James started to stroke himself.

Very soon his cock was swollen to its max. He was so well endowed, that even from my distant vantage point I could make out his very wide girth and good 8” length. His hand worked his own body as he stroked himself up and down in a steady, slow rhythm. My eyes were transfixed as I watched him grip his cock and start to pleasure himself faster and faster, his wonderful, veiny manhood taking quite a beating from his own hand. I could see that his stroking had made beads of sweat form on his face, and still with his eyes shut facing up to the sun, I watched as his body tensed, his lips parted and he let out an audible moan as he shot his load, pumping his creamy juice onto the grass in front of him. As his body relaxed back against the wood, he slowly and deliberately coaxed every last drop of cum from his cock before pulling back up his shorts.

I don’t think my heart had ever beaten so fast in my life, my own breath was taken away, and it was just so sensual to watch this gorgeous guy performing what should have been such a private act. I was quite in another world.

Suddenly, I saw James open his eyes, making me panic that he may see me, so quickly I darted from my vantage point trying to dodge out of his view. In my haste I knocked a heavy earth-filled flowerpot to the ground. It smashed, making a noise for all to hear. Gasping and holding my breath, I listened intently not knowing if James had realised that I was there. I seemed to stand for an age daring not even to breathe – then I heard the creaking of my potting shed door opening.

I turned to see James standing, smiling knowingly at me. “Did you enjoy that Michelle?” he asked.

I was completely speechless, but knew that my ‘retreat’ was about to take on a new whole new purpose ……..