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He was showing her what he could do. When he was done, the spoon gleamed and her panties were wet.He wanted her.He invited her to his house on the Sussex Downs, and she demurred - it was one of those months when there was too much to do, her diary was packed, stuffed full. She would be exhausted. He would have to wait.This he seemed happy to do. He told her he would welcome her in a month’s time, after all the hard work. He would help her relax. Unwind. Become herself again.And when the time came, the weather was blazing hot. The Downs were drying out in the sun, trees glistening, the air thin and yielding. He had told her - not asked her - to bring swimwear. Now he showed her the pool, surface glittering in the sunlight. She arrived on the poolside in a black bikini top. He was in a bathrobe, but he dropped it. He was tall, hairless, sculpted. He looked hard but she could not be sure. She longed for contact.Their mouths, first. Their tongues intermingling in the heat of the day as. At dinner, with her sitting next to me, she had even placed her hand on my inner thigh then slowly slid her hand along my thigh until she had a handful of my balls, working them between her fingers and palm. She leaned towards me and biting her lower lip, she let out, “gawd, these feel good, damn I want them.” I knew then that I was going to win that one in million chance tonight…provided I did not blow it by doing something stupid.After dinner we hit the dance floor, making sure that we managed to grope as much of each other as we could along with grinding our bodies together with the sway’s of the music. I had a perpetual hard on and my dick seemed as though it was trying to grow out of its skin. I had this a****listic feeling that I wanted to bend this woman backwards over a table and fuck her harder than any woman has been fucked in the history of man. Of course my fucking history was mostly written on my hand and had only managed to fuck one girl (my cousin of all things) twice,.
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