“Hi, Mrs. Greenberg, I’m Allie, I’m here to do the weeding!” I smiled brightly at the tall, gray-haired woman in the dark blue gown that opened the door to the mansion.

The way she looked me up and down spoke volumes, and when her eyebrow went up and she declared in a rather posh voice, “I expected someone… different, I was rather pleased with Pablo’s work,” I readied myself for a taxing day.

“I know I’m not Pablo, but he left me instructions what I need to do.” I held up my laptop to make my point, though I didn’t tell her that Pablo’s notes had been nothing more than three lines on a post-it. “Weeding. No cutting the box trees. Compost behind shed.” Nobody questioned a gardener carrying a laptop to work nowadays.

Which made gardening the perfect job. I was usually unsupervised, I could take breaks quite often - you can’t keep digging or weeding for hours without taking a breather - which allowed me to indulge my secret side and access these lovely, naughty chat rooms and story websites.

I couldn’t help it, really. I was a horny girl and needed my outlet. After I was thrown out of university for gross misconduct - which, in simpler words, meant getting caught in the faculty room with my professor’s cock in my mouth - I tried a few jobs, but I simply couldn’t resist temptation. I made it a week as an office clerk until the IT department confronted me with the porn pics I had downloaded at work. I managed almost three weeks as a waitress before a stint with a customer in a toilet stall ended my spectacular career. My face still flushes in shame when I think back to my first and only day selling lingerie, which ended through lunch break when Amanda, the store owner, found me in a changing stall with a hand inside my panties - inside a very delicate and perversely expensive pair of panties from the display window, to be precise.

“Very well,” Mrs. Greenberg grumbled, “you can go around the house. The tools are in the shed. Make sure you don’t carry dirt onto the veranda, and wait for me to return before you pack up. I’ll be home around four.”

“Sure, Mrs. Greenberg.” I sent her another dishonest smile and trudged around the huge house.

The garden was lavish, and I groaned silently when I spotted all the weeds sticking out in the flower beds and under the hedges after a month of neglect due to Pablo’s sudden cancellation. Toby, one of my co-workers, had told me in a hushed voice that him going back to Mexico hadn’t been all that voluntary. But that was hardly my problem.

I set up my laptop on the sturdy oak wood table in the middle of the garden and noticed with relief that it found wireless connection. After starting downloading a number of stories I had bookmarked the day before, I went to the shed and giggled. Less wealthy people would have called it a house in its own, and it contained just about every type of gardening tool in existence.

Armed with gloves, a small rake and a jute bag for the weeds, I started my work.

Weeding was one of my favorites. It didn’t need much concentration, so I could let my mind wander towards more stimulating topics, and each time I bent forward, the slightly scratchy crotch area of the green overall I wore rubbed pleasantly against my plum. Soon, I was lost in naughty images of hunky men pushing their stiff organs into my throbbing snatch, while my fingers dug in the dirt and pulled out weeds without conscious thought. The sun had already risen above the trees and promised a hot day. My own heat rose equally, and I couldn’t wait to hear the tires of Mrs. Greenberg’s car announce her departure.

She always left at nine and came back in the afternoon, I had been told, and as she lived alone, I wouldn’t have to worry about curious eyes. I waited for a half hour, just in case she had forgotten something, before I took my first break. My t-shirt was already getting sweaty, so I opened the overall’s suspenders and slipped it off, then closed them again and wiggled my upper body, grinning when my nipples rubbed against the rough fabric.

I sat down on the reclining chair in front of the wooden table, slipped off my shoes and put my legs up left and right of my laptop. This was my favorite position for reading smut, one hand extended and scrolling through the text, the other dancing between my splayed thighs inside my pants. The first story was already an intriguing one of a woman who had sex with a stranger on a crowded train that had broken down. It built up brilliantly, just like the wetness and heat inside my pussy did, and soon my fingers danced through my folds and I sighed dreamily. Just as the naughty woman in the story got near her release, I felt my own edge approaching.

A loud click ripped me from my delicious play, and I looked up, frozen, wide-eyed, and started to blush all over. “Mrs. Greenberg!” I gasped and hurriedly extricated my hand from inside my working pants.

I hadn’t noticed her approach at all, but there she was, looking furious and holding an expensive camera in my hand. She was now wearing a dark green dress that showed that, despite her age, she still had a good figure, and the intricate lacing covering her cleavage all the way up to a tight collar made her look imposing and classy.

“Shit,” I mumbled and wilted under her stare.

“So this is what I pay you for?” she hissed. “Did you really think I wouldn’t check up on you?”

“I - I’m sorry!” I gasped.

“Allie, Allie, Allie. I fear sorry just isn’t good enough. What do you think your employer will have to say about such photos?”

I squirmed. The three months I was working for Alfred’s gardening company were the longest I had managed to stay in one job, and I really enjoyed my work. I got to be outdoors and could set my own rhythm, and with the tips, I didn’t pay half bad. I could not afford to lose it, so I resigned myself to begging. “Please! Please don’t show them, Mrs. Greenberg! I promise it won’t happen again!”

“About that…” She stepped behind me, and not being able to see her made me feel even more uncomfortable. “I am not sure I can trust you with that. You seem to be one of these constantly horny, shameless girls who simply can’t control their urges. No, don’t try to deny it, I know your kind!”

I slumped in my chair. Goodbye good job, hello comments about being a good-for-nothing layabout.

“Unless…”

I perked up. “Unless?” I echoed her when more wasn’t forthcoming.

“Unless you let me take control of your urges.” She stepped back into my line of sight, a teasing grin on her lips.

“Let you… But…”

Before I could formulate a clear thought - lest of all a sensible response - she reached out and squeezed my pussy through the fabric. I could have pushed her away, but the situation was so surreal that the thought didn’t even cross my mind, and then her hand was pressing down on my heated slit and all the aroused feelings from earlier were back. It took all I had to not moan or gasp, but she sensed my inner turmoil despite that.

A grin tugged up the corner of her mouth, and she started to squeeze rhythmically, her eyes boring into mine and reading every tiny twitch. Somehow, it turned into a battle of wills. She plainly and shamelessly masturbated me, and I tried to resist. I wasn’t attracted to her, as for one, she was a woman, and for two, she was almost thrice my age, but she had something else instead, something that wrapped around me like tight ropes - power.

Power rolled from her as she studied me with an all-encompassing self-assurance, and her gaze felt as if it went all the way into the darkest corners of my mind. It was silly, but, for a moment, I was convinced that she could read every depraved little secret I carried inside me.

I hadn’t realized that I had started to rock my hips to meet her squeezes. My pussy was dripping wet by now, feeling hot and swollen and full of need. My breath was going fast and hard, betraying my peak of arousal.

“As I thought,” she commented. “A horny little slut with no self-control, that’s what you are.”

She squeezed even harder, and when I moaned, “Please!” it wasn’t about photos at all. A strange kind of exchange seemed to be going on between us, one that didn’t really need words, and I felt myself slipping into a state of pure arousal. The blood started to rush in my ears and I moaned with every squeeze of my snatch. The ball of her hand pressed the pants’ button tab almost painfully onto my swollen clit, and I started to lose control. My thighs and hips started shaking like mad and my pussy pulsated with impending release.

She pulled back her hand. I reached out with my own to finish what she had started, but she caught my wrists and shook her head. I whimpered with need.

“No, not yet!” she admonished. “Do we have a deal?”

It was crazy! I had no idea what exactly she had meant by taking control of my urges, but I knew that I desperately needed to come, and the only way to achieve that was to play her game.

“Yes, Mrs. Greenberg,” I whispered.

“Good.” She pulled me up from the chair, and I followed her guidance without resistance. She put my arms down next to my thighs and the small narrowing of her eyes told me all I needed to know about moving them from there. My breathing had no chance to slow down, because she opened my overall’s suspenders and let it slide down my body, exposing my firm C-cups and naked, shaven pussy.

It was probably a bit late now, but I blushed all over when she studied my naked self. “That will do,” she muttered to herself. “Only a slut would go to work without panties and bra. Stay like this and don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

I felt deeply mortified standing here all naked in my customer’s garden. My mound and thighs were wet with my juices. Had I not been so horny, I’d have pulled up my overall, snatched my laptop and bolted, but her determination had robbed me of all flight reflexes. I wanted to be not aroused by her, but I failed. I noticed her look out from a window on the second floor and made sure I wasn’t moving the tiniest bit. What was she going to do? My thoughts raced, but my nipples refused to soften. I had been so close.

Five minutes later she re-emerged and approached me with a wide grin, carrying a bright red plastic box. “Get out of that ugly overall,” she ordered and set the box down on the table.

I failed to see inside, so all I could do was kick of my heavy steel-capped shoes and slip the overall off my feet. At her raised eyebrow, I neatly folded it and set it down next to my laptop. She watched me intently, delighting in my embarrassed blushes and awkward movements. But then I was naked and it was time to find out what she had in store for me.

At first, I didn’t recognize the pink, shiny, dangly thing she pulled out of the plastic box and held up. Only when she slowly twirled it around did I notice it was supposed to be a pair of panties - though not ordinary ones. There were two strange protrusions made from the same shiny material, one as long as my fingers and about two thumbs wide, the other shorter but tapering outwards quite a bit in the middle, and both were rounded at the tip. Then she turned them inside out though - or better, outside in - and I felt my pulse speed up.

“No!” I protested. “Oh my god, no! I’ll not wear that!”

She didn’t take me serious though. “You will. Or do you want the photos to get out? Besides, I’m pretty sure you’ll love them.”

“I’ve never had anything in my bum!” And I wasn’t about to change that. Hearing Sandy bitch all day long about how it had hurt when she and Paul had tried out anal sex had been enough for me.

“Your choice,” she said, dangling the panties in my reach and snatching a plastic tube from the box, and mouthing, “Photos.”

“Fuck,” I told her and snatched the panties from her hand. They felt cool and smooth, but they quickly warmed to my touch.

She handed me the plastic tube too. “Lube.”

Wiggling the rubber panties up my legs proved to be difficult. The material tried to cling to my skin and I had to work it upwards inch by inch, pulling at the upper seam, then running my fingers under the cutouts for the legs and releasing the pull their. Mrs. Greenberg watched me avidly. My heart pounded against my chest, and the touches of the heavy attachments made me feel dirty and naughty.

“This is perverted,” I told her when it was almost all the way up and the front attachment, a slightly flexible dildo, bumped against my pussy lips.

“More so that masturbating in a stranger’s garden when you’re supposed to be working? Now get that dildo inside you. We don’t have all day!”

“Yes, more,” I hissed back. Of course we had all day, because that was what she had booked me for. I pushed the dildo against my opening and spread my legs a little. I wouldn’t need any lube there, that much was certain. I kept my eyes focused between my legs and watched with hitching breath as it followed my push and slid inside me, stretching my swollen pussy around it. It felt delicious when it pushed my walls apart, almost like a real cock, only smoother.

Then I realized that I had made a strategic mistake. With the front of the rubber panties now firmly attached to my pussy, I couldn’t see the part in the back. “I - I can’t…” I admitted and shrugged helplessly.

“That’s the problem with your kind,” she sighed and stepped closer, plucking the tube from my hand. “You have all the brain between your legs. Turn to the table and bend over, then brace yourself on it.”

I did, and when her warm fingertips pulled my bum cheeks apart, it felt completely and utterly wrong. The lube trickled cool and moist down my crack and I whimpered in embarrassment, earning a clucking of her tongue and an admonishment to keep still. I yelped when she stuck the nozzle of the lube inside my pucker and I felt the coolness spread, forbidden and strange and - I closed my eyes and let out a shuddering breath - arousing. She nestled around with the panties, probably spreading lube over the plug, and then I felt its tip press against my anus.

“Please go slowly,” I begged.

“Stop whining and relax!” She pushed the rubber against my pucker and I felt it clench tightly at the attempted intrusion. I really tried to relax, but as soon as she upped the pressure, my ring of muscle tightened on its own. “This is going nowhere,” she muttered.

Suddenly, a loud crack sounded and fire shot through my left bum cheek. “Owww!” I started to wail, but the sound froze in my throat, because she had used my moment of distraction and I felt my pucker spread wider and wider. Short, painful twinges raced through while it adapted to the girth of the plug, and I whimpered. My anus tried to clench again, but this time it couldn’t, and I ended up with more painful twinges while I stood frozen in my bent-over position and let her fill my ass with this foreign object.

Then it was past the wide middle part and my ass practically pulled it inside. I felt strange and full back there, totally dirty and ashamed, but Mrs.

Greenberg hummed a little happy tune while she adjusted the waistline. I tried to stand up, but her hand on my back kept me as I was.

“Stay. We’re not finished.” She reached over me and I saw pull a rubber hose with a ball on one end from the box. I wasn’t a stranger to porn and kink, and this time, my mind quickly made the connections.

“No!” I complained once more. “I’m already full enough!”

“Tut, tut. You’re nothing, little princess.” She nestled with the plug to attach the hose, and the feeling of it wiggling inside me felt much more arousing that I wanted to admit.

But then a soft, hissing sound filled the air and my eyes widened. I felt the rubber inside my bum expand and press against my walls. It grew noticeable longer. I gasped, but Mrs. Greenberg already squeezed again and I started to feel bloated inside. I whimpered, and she giggled merrily behind me, expanding that thing in my bum more and more.

My breath hitched and my thighs started to tremble. The insides of my bum felt like a whole fist had been stuck there, and I started to fear I would be unable to move at all.

Thankfully, she stopped, and I felt her unscrew the rubber pump. “Only one more thing left here,” she commented while she put it back into the box. What she lifted out next looked like a round, fluffy white feather duster at first glance, but then I saw its pink base and everything became clear. She somehow affixed it to the outer side of my panties, and when she tipped it with her hand, the plug wiggled inside me. I moaned.

“Horny thing,” she mock chastised. “You can stand back up.”

When I was standing straight again, she had already plucked another item from the box - a hair band with two large, floppy, fluffy white bunny ears to match the tail she had just give me. My cheeks turned crimson when she set it into my mousy brown, shoulder-length hair.

“Such a nice bunny,” she told me appreciatively. “I wonder… Oh yes, of course!”

I had no idea what she was talking about - not yet. I did though when she produced a pair of pink, high-heeled sandals from the box.

“Oh no! I won’t be able to walk on the grass in those!” I protested, taking in the almost needle-thin points of the heels.

“And that exactly is why you will be wearing them,” she told me and pushed me gently backwards against the table. “Lift your left leg.”

Five minutes later, I was standing on these thin, high heels on the tiled patch next to the table. The sandals were a size too short and the leather straps bit into my skin, but she had brushed away all my complaints and told me that bad girls deserved to suffer a little. Somehow, the way she had stared into my eyes and drawled the words had reached directly down into my stuffed pussy and made my breath tremble. I had no idea how she was doing it, not the slightest, but somehow, I felt myself get wrapped in unbreakable shackles.

“Stay!” she ordered once again and went back into the house.

This time, she didn’t take as long, and she was soon back with an assortment of thin white ropes in her hand. I didn’t even try to question her or protest when she wrapped one of these around my legs in a figure-eight pattern, just above my knees, nor did I when she repeated this around my ankles. But then my eyes shot wide open when she brushed against my left breast and also wrapped a rope around it. “What…” I tried to ask.

She didn’t let me finish. “You’ll see.” She tightened the loop enough so it would definitely not slip off, then tied a knot and pulled on it to make sure it didn’t slip. The base of my breast was tightly compressed, and when I looked down, it stood lewdly away in a perfect orb. She made me lift my hand close to my breast and tied the end of the rope around it, leaving perhaps twelve inches of slack rope. While she equally adorned my other breast - and while I tried my best to ignore how wonderful her inadvertent touches felt - her devious intentions became clear.

There were no words spoken when she helped me get down on my knees. The dildos nestled inside me pushed against my walls with every movement and added a layer of arousal to my embarrassment. Once I had wiggled my way off the hard tiles and onto the softer grass, she started walking.

“Come!” she ordered sharply, slowly walking backwards towards the hedge where I had started weeding, and all I could do was hop awkwardly by sitting down on my haunches, then propelling my body up- and forward. I pulled on the ropes around my breasts which made them bounce even more than they did anyway, and I wanted to vanish into the ground when the whole depravity of my performance hit home. Yet, inch for inch, I bounced and wiggled my way after her, following her mocking giggles across the lawn.

I started to sweat, but she didn’t give me any time to get my breathing back. It took me ages, but finally I reached the edge of the flower bed. Weeding, with my constricted movement, meant that I had to bend far forward, then awkwardly pluck at the weeds, sit upright again and lean to the side to be able to reach the jute bag. It was hard labor, straining my body all over, and the pain from my knees and the too-small shoes didn’t help any. Yet the objects in my pussy and ass kept wiggling and pushing inside me every time I bent my waist and held my arousal alive.

“Keep weeding,” Mrs. Greenberg ordered and walked away.

The sun burned down on me mercilessly. I had no idea how long I had been working. There was no need for naughty fantasies to distract me though, the dildo and plug did enough of that, but I almost cried out disappointment when my thighs started to cramp yet the jute bag was only halfway filled. I gradually became aware of soft, mewling sounds, and I dared to kneel upright and look over my shoulder.

My breath hitched. Mrs. Greenberg was sitting on a comfy reclining chair, her skirt discarded and the top, which turned out to be a bodice, unbuttoned between her milky-white thighs so her pussy was in full view. Her fingers were flying up and down through her rosy nether lips and her head was tilted back in pleasure. Her high-pitched moans started to fill the air and her hips rotated eagerly. It looked so lewd, and she wasn’t what I’d call pretty, but yet, my eyes stayed glued to her snatch and I felt my own heat up.

I could, probably, if I really tried, fold myself forward enough so I could reach my pussy and wiggle the dildo inside me, but I didn’t dare. Instead, I watched with fascination and arousal when her thighs began to shake, then clenched around her hand, and she rocked back and forth, crying out her release.

It took her a minute or two to get her senses back, but when she opened her eyes, she looked directly at me. “Ah, so my bunny has been peeking. But you’re lucky; I’ll let that slip for now. Come here!” She crooked her finger.

Hopping across the lawn was even more difficult now that I was exhausted already, and I had to fight against an almost overwhelming desire to simply slump to the side and lie on the grass to rest. After what felt like hours - but probably only were five or ten minutes - I reached her chair, and she swiveled the backrest upright and grinned.

“How do you feel?”

“Exhausted.” Which was not a secret with the heavy breathing and the sweating I did. “Tired. My thighs and back ache, as do my feet.” The next admission made me blush, but her hard stare pulled the words from my lips, and I bit my lip when I heard my own voice tell her meekly, “My tits throb and I’m so incredibly horny!”

“Do you want to come?”

“Oh god, yes!”

“Then kiss my pussy.”

“I - oh god, I’ve never…” Staring at her wrinkled, glistening folds, I swallowed. Kissing a woman there had never crossed my mind.

“Do you want me to help you?”

It was a strange question, because I really didn’t wish to kiss her juice-covered, musky pussy, yet the question triggered a submissive part in me I had never encountered before, and when, at my meek nod, she buried her hand in my hair and pulled me closer to her snatch, my loins tingled with desire.

Her sharp scent quickly filled my nose, but she didn’t stop, and my lips touched her soft, wet skin. It wasn’t just a kiss she wanted. She began to guide my head up and down and ordered me to stick out my tongue. After a moment of hesitation I did, and her taste filled all my senses, musky, strong, with a slightly sweet touch.

“It’s always the same with you sluts, Bunny,” she told me, her voice turning breathless and hungry. “Every decision happens between your legs. Oh yes, just like that, twirl your tongue around my clit! But I know how to deal with you.” She drew in a whistling breath when I sucked on her clit. “I’ll make you do things you’ve never even thought of, and you’ll love them and hate them. Put your tongue inside me, slut! Yes, wiggle it! I’ll make you so horny that you’ll think you’ll explode… Oh fuck, yes! Yes! Then I’ll make you mine! Mine!”

Her thighs clamped around my head like a vice and she shook in waves, moaning gibberish, flooding my mouth with fresh juices and almost tearing my head off my neck. My sharp breaths seemed to spur her on even more, and she bucked like a rodeo horse while she rode out her climax. I couldn’t help the little bell of pride that kept ringing in my heart, knowing that I had made her come so hard.

When she released me, we were both fighting for air. She grinned brightly, and I couldn’t help thinking about her promise of making me hers, whatever that was supposed to mean.

“You really want to come now, don’t you?” It was a moot question, and she didn’t wait for me to answer. Instead, she stood up and stepped around me, walking over the table and fetching the plastic box. The bunny ears went back into it first, then she freed my wrists and breasts, the latter a deep red and rather swollen by now. I looked down at them a little frightened, but she clucked her tongue.

“There’s no damage, and they’ll be back to normal in no time.”

Well, she had to know. I certainly had no experience with such games. Next she helped me slip off the sandals, then helped me stand upright and removed the ropes around my legs. I sighed in relief when I was finally able to shake them out.

Unscrewing the bunny tail brought fresh wiggling arousal, but I was determined not to let on just how much I had come to enjoy this. Once it was off, she nestled with the back of my panties and a soft hissing accompanied the strange feeling of the plug shrinking inside me. It was only a tiny jab of pain when she pulled the plug out of me, then she slid the panties down. The dildo left a gaping void in my pussy, and as if it only became aware of how much it needed stimulation now that the last of it had gone, it throbbed with empty desire. I whimpered.

“Yes, yes, I know,” Mrs. Greenberg told me with a slight sneer, “you’ll get yours soon enough.” She dropped the special panties in the box and headed off once more with a short, snappy, “Stay!” towards me.

This time, she went to the shed and emerged only a few seconds later with a wooden sawhorse. Or what resembled one, I thought after a closer look when she put the four-legged frame on the ground next to me. The top bar was made from a darker wood and polished to gleaming perfection, curved instead of flat and interspersed with triangular dents with rounded edges.

“What are you waiting for? Get on it!”

I had no idea what she was up to, but I complied. The bar was only a few inches below my pussy, cool and smooth between my thighs, and I started a little forlornly at her.

“Oh, come on, don’t play silly. You may come!”

I still didn’t get her, but then she made some rocking motions with her hips and it became clear. She expected me to rub my pussy on the wooden bar! I looked up, wide-eyed, and saw her point the camera at me, a tiny red light gleaming on its front. “Oh my god,” I gasped, but when she didn’t move the slightest bit, a strange feeling, almost like lucid dreaming, gripped me, and I felt my thighs part and lowered my pussy onto the wood.

I couldn’t believe I was doing this, but the wooden bar promised release, a release I had been craving for hours, and after I had licked her pussy, there really wasn’t much left for me to be embarrassed about. I slid my pussy forward and felt the curved bar part my lips. There was enough moisture to alleviate any friction, and these small indentations in the wood bumped deliciously against my folds. I moaned and put my hands on the bar in front of me, bending my upper body forwards, then I slid backwards. The bumps almost touched my clit, and I leaned forward further.

God, this was crazy, so animalistic, yet the first time my clit bumped along the wood I lost all inhibitions. Electric shocks raced through my pussy while I slid faster and faster back and forth, heedless of my surroundings, only focusing on reaching that delicious edge. I was getting difficult to keep my balance and the wooden horse rocked back and forth with me, but god, every bump catapulted my arousal higher and higher, and suddenly the pleasure exploded in my snatch and robbed me of my breath.

“Fuck! Yes!” I cried out and toppled off the horse, curling up into a ball with one hand rubbing my pussy, shaking with wonderful, pleasurable relief. I don’t think I had ever come that hard before, and the pleasant shock in my pussy just kept going. I felt grass and dirt stick to my skin when I rolled around in bliss, but I didn’t care.

Finally, after what felt like ages, I couldn’t take anymore and had to pull away my hand. I was breathing like I had run a marathon when I turned onto my back and looked up at Mrs. Greenberg’s satisfied grin.

“I guess you enjoyed that,” she stated and winked at me while she put the camera back into the box.

“Oh fuck, yes, I did,” I admitted.

She reached out a hand and helped me stand up on wobbly legs.

“Whew,” I gasped, slightly dizzy.

“Listen, I do have to head out for real now. Feel free to take a dip in the pool if you need to cool down, but I want these two flower beds weeded before you head home. Oh, and no clothes. I want to know you’ll be naked the whole time. Can you do that?”

“Yes, Mrs. Greenberg,” I answered, glad that, for the moment, my cheeks weren’t able to blush and redder than they already were.

“Good. Oh, you don’t mind if I recommend you to a few of my… friends, do you?”

Her emphasis on the word “friends” told me she wasn’t just talking of gardening. A small part of me didn’t want to believe that there could be more people who were as perverted as her. But another part, the one between my legs, throbbed in anticipation at the thought of more games like today’s.

“Please feel free to, Mrs. Greenberg. Thank you!”

“Oh, we two are going to have so much fun!”

Before I knew what was happening, her hand had gripped my hair hard and her lips were pressed against mine. When her tongue pushed against them, I yielded instantly, and my first kiss with a woman was one of pure power. She ravished my mouth, conquered it with her tongue, and I melted into her kiss.

When she pulled away, I whimpered in disappointment, and she giggled happily. “Until next week,” she told me with a wink, picked up the plastic box and walked towards the house.

A dip in the pool to cool down sounded perfect. Yes, becoming a gardener had been the perfect career choice. I walked to the pool’s edge and looked at my mirror image in the water. “Slut!” I accused and saw her grin back at me.