A naked gardener gets two flatmates all hot and bothered. So they turn to each other for comfort.
“You’ve got to see this.” I led Sukie to the sliding balcony doors off the kitchen that overlooked our neighbour’s back lawn. After watching the spectacle in Mrs Neil’s garden a couple of times on my own, I’d decided it was only polite to cue my flat mate in on the best show in town. She was an appreciative audience.
“Who is he?” she whispered.
“Mrs Neil hired him a couple of months ago. I don’t know his name.” I grabbed Sukie’s arm and we gave a collective gasp of appreciation as the man slipped his T-shirt over his sun-bleached head, exposing a smooth chest with well-shaped pecs and nipples the colour of ripe peaches.
Sukie and I had shared a flat for only a few months, but we’d learned early on that we were kindred spirits, both liking outdoor sports and jazz, and both not having time for relationships.
“Maybe we should get a gardener too,” Sukie whispered, squeezing my arm. “Do you think we could get one like that?”
The fact that we didn’t have a garden seemed irrelevant as we watched him wipe his sweaty body in a leisurely way with the discarded T-shirt, in strokes that were nearly caresses.
Our eyes followed the movement of his hand across his broad chest, over his hard stomach, and it soon became obvious that Mrs Neil’s gardener was well on his way to an erection his tight little shorts could barely contain.
Sukie slipped an arm around my shoulders, her gaze still locked on the magnificent display next door. “There must be horse genes in the family. It’s amazing his zipper doesn’t burst from all that pressure.”
“I think he might be going commando,” I gasped, finding it difficult to breathe. I could easily make out the elongated bulge straining against the fabric.
“Surely not, or he’d be hanging out the leg of those shorts.” We both craned our necks and squinted harder. I wished I hadn’t lent my binoculars to my sister for her trip to Greece.
“He’ll see us! Get back,” I hissed. As I pushed Sukie behind the edge of the curtain, my hand accidentally slipped to the soft curve of her breast, the nipple just brushing my fingers as I jerked away, blushing hotly. I’d always thought I was a guys-only sort of girl. I couldn’t actually remember lusting after another woman until Sukie came into the picture. My flat mate wasn’t shy about her body. It never seemed to bother her if I caught a glimpse of her snatch or her lovely tits. For her, clothing was a bit of a nuisance, which she often discarded as soon as she got home in the evening. I envied her that freedom. I wasn’t quite so comfortable flashing my curves, but I was very happy to enjoy looking at hers.
She had just got out of the shower, and was draped in the red silk robe that I always wanted to stroke when she was in it. Clearly she hadn’t been overly concerned about towelling. The fabric clung damply to her breasts and the curves of her hips and arse. She smelled clean and citrusy, and I could just make out a hint of her own earthy musk, which made my mouth water even more, and the muscles of my vulva clench and tingle.
I had to admit, I’d made myself come more than a few times while thinking of Sukie putting on her make-up in front of the bathroom mirror each morning, wearing nothing but tiny lace knickers. I could easily imagine her high taut breasts fitting perfectly into my hands as I approached her from behind. I was always completely naked in my fantasy, always bold in my explorations, sliding curious fingers into the tiny triangle of cloth that barely covered her closely trimmed curls, making her kneel in front of me to taste my juices. I couldn’t keep from wondering if she’d ever pleasured herself while fantasising about me. That thought made me almost as wet as watching the gardener.
Meanwhile, our man checked the high wooden gate to make sure it was securely locked, then gave the rest of the garden a walk-around before he stretched out on the wide stone bench near the fish pond. When he’d made himself comfortable and was no longer looking our way, we moved back from behind the curtain for a better view.
Mrs Neil’s garden was pretty secluded, and either he felt assured of his privacy or he liked to take chances, because he slid his hand into the waistband of his shorts and shifted until he was satisfied with the grip. Soon he was bucking against his stroking hand and grinding his arse on the bench as though he were alone in his own bedroom.
“This is too good to be true,” Sukie whispered. “Has he done this before?”
I shook my head. “Up until now he’s only taken off his shirt and pranced around behind the lawnmower.”
“Come on,” Sukie breathed, her eyes locked on the hired help. “Unwrap it. Let’s see some cock.” It was almost as though he’d heard her. As we watched, he undid his fly, lifted his hips and slipped his shorts and pants down over the rounded cheeks of his butt, kicking them off into the grass.
“My God, that bum is positively edible.” My mouth was definitely watering.
Sukie had been right about the horse genes, and it was clear he wasn’t even yet fully erect. His cock was heavy and thick, resting expectantly against his well-muscled thigh. We had a clear view of his weighty balls, which he cupped and stroked in their nest of dark curls. His other hand encircled his rapidly engorging penis, stroking loosely from base to tip, pausing occasionally to caress the head, which seemed to be deepening in colour with growing arousal, becoming several shades darker than his taut nipples.
“His hands are big,” Sukie said.
“They have to be,” I replied. “And what a grip.”
“I’d have to change my knickers now, if I were wearing any.” With her arm draped around my shoulder, Sukie’s robe gaped just enough to give me a luscious glimpse of her breast, with its straining damson nipple. I squirmed around, the intriguing heaviness of arousal spreading rapidly over my clitoris and up into my cunt.
“What about you?” Her warm lips brushed my nape, but her eyes were still locked on Stud Man. “Are your knickers wet?” She hooked a finger in the waist band of my panties and gave them a snap.
I half yelped at the slight sting. I was only wearing knickers and a T-shirt myself, and was most definitely soaking. To be honest, I was a little bit shy about exposing myself this way, and would have slid into something a little more substantial, but if Sukie could brazen it out, so could I. Now my attention was divided between the man stroking himself in the garden and my flat mate, whose hand had disappeared underneath the edge of her robe. The slow rocking of her hips made me want to shove the fabric aside for a closer look at what her busy fingers were doing.
“What do you reckon would happen if we just went next door and joined him, just slipped right onto his cock and had a ride?” Her arm tightened around my neck, pulling me closer, and the hand that wasn’t pleasuring her slit now hung free just above my breast.
It was too much to resist. I arched my back and threw out my chest in my best military posture, placing my breast within easy groping distance, and Sukie wasn’t slow on the invite as her hand closed around my fullness, thumb and index finger tweaking my burgeoning nipple.
“Would you ride him with me?” Arousal now tightened her voice to a throaty rasp. “You could ride his face while I ride that enormous cock.” She had now moved into a semi embrace, enough to keep an eye on the gardener and still observe my body. She slipped her hand under the edge of my T-shirt and stroked my stomach, first sliding a damp finger around my navel. With a rush of pleasure, I realized it was her wetness she now rubbed low on my belly as her fingers edged inside my knickers.
I could barely believe what was happening as I shifted slightly and opened my legs, offering her easy access to my slippery folds.
“There now, doesn’t that feel good?” Her fingers darted in and out of my pussy, spreading my juices over my clitoris and making me squirm and bear down against her hand. The gardener was now rubbing himself purposefully and shifting on the bench as though someone were indeed riding his erection. His face was flushed and I could tell from the rapid rise and fall of his chest that he was getting close. His cock was now darkly engorged, so heavy and full that the weight of it seemed to be making the muscles in his pumping forearm bulge from the effort. His strokes had become faster, tighter, and his cock seemed to be battling against his restraining hand, at times causing the whole of his sweating torso to arch upward off the bench, arse cheeks clenching, thighs straining.
Without warning Sukie pulled away from me and began rummaging in the refrigerator. Dazed, I staggered on trembling legs and nearly lost my balance. How could she think of food at a time like this? But all became clear when she returned with a courgette, long and thick, like the gardener’s cock. She placed one foot on the chair, giving me an exquisite view of her cunt. Then, without taking her eyes off the gardener, Sukie spread her glistening pout with two fingers and I watched, enthralled, as she eased the courgette home.
“It’s cold,” she gasped, “I’ll just have to warm it up.” And she began sliding it in and out between her well-lubricated lips. When I thought I couldn’t get any hotter, Sukie spoke around laboured breath. “Play with my tits, Vanessa. I’m tired of hinting every morning, standing in front of the mirror with my points aching and my knickers wet. Sometimes you’re so dense.”
I was in heaven as I stroked her nipples to impossible fullness then started to work on her stippled areole with my tongue. With one hand she pistoned the courgette in and out to a rhythm that matched the gardener’s, while the other did a frenzied dance over my clit, darting in and out between my swollen lips.
“We can come together.” Sukie’s breath now shuddered through her. I could tell she was close. We were both close. “All three of us can come together,” she said, nodding to the garden. We stroked and touched and tasted while playing the voyeurs. But suddenly our attention was drawn back beyond the patio doors. Even in the kitchen, we heard the gardener’s grunts and groans of pleasure as he came, shooting his arching wad onto the grass in heavy spurts.
We hung on for only a few tight seconds longer, me straining and humping while Sukie rode the courgette like a wild stallion, then we exploded together practically falling on top of each other in a wet rush of giggles and kisses.
When we had managed to catch our breath, we turned our attention back to the window. Beyond the patio door, the still-naked gardener smiled and waved. Laughing harder now, we returned the wave and blew kisses, already anticipating next week’s garden show.
