The Gardener Of High Haxford free porn video

Few people were ever admitted to Gemma’s garden. Indeed, most people walking along the lane down toward Haxford, never even suspected that a large garden lay behind the thick Beech hedge. Many a weary walker was glad to come across the pleasant rustic seat, rest and enjoy the view; while being oblivious of the summer house less than five yards away. Some wondered how a seat came to be there. Gemma’s grandfather had built it for granny to sit on, while she waited for the buses which used to run by. Gemma kept it tidy, and would sometimes sit there herself for a view of Jacks Hill.

High Haxford had been bought by Gemma’s grandparents, before the war, and Grandad had first laid out the gardens. Mummy and Daddy had continued the work, but the house and gardens had passed to Gemma ten years ago. It followed the dreadful road accident, which had robbed her of the two most wonderful people she had ever known.

To the villagers of Haxford, Gemma was something of a recluse, though when she came into the shop she was chatty and bright. Occasionally she would have lunch at the ‘Green Man’, enjoy some beer and chat and laugh, but then retire to her private domain. And ‘private’ it was. It was overlooked from nowhere, and the strong thick hedges were supplemented by Pyracantha.

Gemma had decided that she would have a day of the senses. To touch, taste, see, listen and smell; she added emotion and spirit. Such a day could not be random if it was to be experienced as Gemma planned. It required a lot of preparation.

A menu was planned, and food was bought and made ready; wines too were selected. The places for silence were trimmed, and the music chosen for elsewhere. Today her reading would comprise some of the Carmina Gadelica, Psalms and Meister Eckhart. There were poems, which she would recite at different points as she walked around. It would be like following the Stations of the Cross; except it would be a celebration of creation, not sacrifice. Breakfast was to be scrambled eggs with fresh Anchovies and fresh baked bread. Lunch; a lobster salad and a bottle of Schloss Johannisberg. Dinner; orange and mustard marinated chicken.

Gemma rose at 5.00am and carried her cup of Assam to the Greenhouse. Watering was checked, and the sprinkler given ten minutes play over the vegetable garden. Other items for the day were placed where they might later be needed.

After these preparations had been completed she sat by the brook, where her father had widened and deepened it. He had built up the stone so the water tumbled into, and out of, a pool thirty feet across and six feet deep at its centre. Gemma sat in silence for five minutes; letting the sounds of the water, the birds and the trees, submerge her into her surroundings. She read aloud from the Carmina Gadelica, ancient prayers and chants from the Western Isles, and then, because it was to be a day of the senses, she read the Song of Solomon.

It was now 6.30 and Gemma was luxuriating in the shower. She played the shower all over herself along, with the tablet of geranium soap, to revel in the joy she felt in her body. Her hands lingered in places as she teased herself. She tweaked her nipples but resisted, for the time being, the urge to play with her pussy; that was for later. Once dry from the pampering of a super soft towel, she dressed in a plain leaf green Japanese cotton yukata, and prepared her breakfast. The bite of the anchovies was softened by the eggs, and served notice on her taste buds that more sensations would follow that day. She drank fresh squeezed orange juice and two cups of green tea, before beginning her garden odyssey.

So far the senses had been entertained. Gemma had caressed plants gently, and stones according to their texture; she had touched herself and there was promise of more. She had listened to birds, fledglings were in full throat; she listened to the breeze in the trees, just as she felt it against her flesh. The smell of freshly watered ground, and the scent of her roses and honeysuckle, were intoxicating. The sight of the garden, the sky and the early morning sun with the movement of water in the brook, fed her soul. Her body had come to life with the big mug of Assam. After she tended the greenhouse and vegetable garden, and she had enjoyed the taste of delicious food. Her spirit had been fed by ancient words; Gemma’s day had begun well.

Walking out of the kitchen to the patio, she left the shade and shelter of the hanging hops, and stood in the already hot sun. With her eyes closed, and senses alert, she let the yukata fall to the ground and stood naked, apart from her sandals.

This was her day, this was her time; and her body and her garden were as one. Gemma had a wide sun hat to wear, and a parasol to wield as a shield against the burning sun; the thin fabric of the yukata was no defence. She had no intention of wearing it much, as the feel of sun and air against her skin was too enticing a sensation to miss, on a day devoted to the senses.

Picking up the factor 15 cream Gemma reflected that there were times when having someone else around was nice. Rubbing cream on her back was awkward and having someone else do your thighs and bum was so much nicer. If she had a choice of hands – who would she have chosen today? Natalie perhaps? Her old college friend in Stow wouldn’t have needed asking twice; but Natalie would have turned the day into an orgy of animal like lust, and that wasn’t what it was about.

James then? James was down from Warwick University for the summer. He had been a casual helper in the garden since he was 15. Now, 5 years later, he was something else. Strong and athletic, but still with something of the little boy she once knew.

James had been a great help with some landscaping changes, where his strength complimented her method. He had helped with some hefty tree work, and had taken her 12” Stihl chainsaw away with him for servicing.

Yes, it would have been good to have male hands today, but she was destined to be solo. “Just as well,” she thought. “One day I will seduce James, but I don’t know when that day will be.” So Gemma oiled herself as best she could, donned her large hat and strolled back to the greenhouse, with the yukata draped over her arm. It soon became far too hot there, and Gemma moved to the Chestnut Copse; five giant trees in a ring, giving wonderful shade.

Natalie had been the one who helped her re-rope the big swing that had dropped from a large bough on the largest Chestnut. There had been a swing there for as long as Gemma could remember. The childhood romantic memory was dimmed, thanks to Natalie’s insistence that they christen the new swing naked, and ride it entwined in a particularly intimate way. Great fun, but it rather crowded out the lovely memory of Granny pushing her when she was little.

She was grateful for the shade, and embarked upon Meister Eckhart. Eventually the ‘Book of Divine Consolation’ ceased to console; and she tossed it aside in favour of getting the swing going as high as she could. There was something extra daring about being naked at the same time.

It was time to be back in the sun and, with a light heart, Gemma strolled once more to the gate to the field. Feeling bold and wicked, she climbed the gate and wandered awhile in the meadow, until the bark of a distant dog made her think of there being someone else out for a walk, not far away. She retreated to her own space.

The morning was nearly gone and noon was announced with what seemed like an even bigger jump in the temperature. In truth, the gentle breeze had died, and the full burning force of the sun was no longer masked by the caress of air on the flesh. Gemma retreated to the house to top up on sun cream, and two cups of green tea, while playing the overture to ‘La Forza del Destino’. The music matched the heady, scented, lazy heat of the garden so well.

As she followed the course of the brook to the pond, she read Psalm 42: ‘As a deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you, O God.’ And she did, indeed, give thanks; but she began to feel faint murmurings of hunger. It was time for the day to take on a more carnal flavour and she turned to Ovid, and the ‘Erotic Poems’. Lunch beckoned, and she climbed the slope away from the water to the Summer House.

From there she could see of the garden, and either sit in full sun or the shade. For the moment she chose the shade of the roof overhanging the deck, so that she could sit at a small table. The Summer House was well equipped and Gemma had earlier placed her salad and wines in its fridge. Now was the time for a self- indulgent foodie to indulge the taste buds. She laid out her platter, and poured her Schloss Johannisberg into a fine crystal wine glass.

Gemma began her feasting with a chicken liver pate with Muscat soaked pear and crostini. With the lobster she enjoyed a crab and shrimp mousse alongside a fresh green salad and baby tomatoes – all from her own garden. She had decided on two glasses of the Reisling then to enjoy a glass of Sauternes, with a very small piece of Cotswold Blue and a few grapes.

Gemma luxuriated in eating her lunch slowly and sensuously, and occasionally running her hands over her body. “Hmm!” she thought; “Natalie or James? Who would I want touching me like this today?”

When she had finished eating she put the dishes into the fridge to keep flies and things away, but succumbed to an extra glass of Sauternes. Had she not done so, and had moved down to the lawn as she had planned, the course of her day might have been different.

Just as she poured her glass, things changed; she heard voices on the road. It happened occasionally when she sat there and, if the walkers sat on the seat, Gemma usually moved away. Today the snatch of conversation rooted her to the spot.

“What do you mean it’s a ‘ravish night’? You’re going to have sex. Why call it a ravish night? You’re 48 Beth! We’re not at college anymore.”

“No, Sal; it’s ‘Ravish Night’, not bonk night. You and Phil ought to try it.”

“Well tell me then, what’s a Ravish Night’?

“We have sex two or three times a week…”

“Lucky you!”

“But once a month is ‘Ravish Night’. One month Si ravishes me, then next month I am in the driving seat.”

“So who’s in control tonight, and what’s happening?”

“It’s Si’s turn. I don’t know what he has planned; I simply know that I am not allowed to return home until 5.00pm. Last time I had my clothes just about ripped off me, then my hands were cuffed behind. I had to kneel and suck his cock while he held my hair so I couldn’t move.”

“Typical man thing then?”

“I haven’t had enough men to know if it’s typical; but he is the only one who has ever fucked me up the arse, and that day it was awesome. But it was how he kept me on edge until I nearly exploded was the thing. It was exquisite torture.”

“What did he do?” she heard an incredulous voice ask.

“Well! He … look we had better keep walking. I’ll tell you as we go. He began by tying me down, and then he went to the drawer ...”

Gemma could pick up no more, but she was now in a state of extreme excitement and frustration. “Just what had he got from the drawer, and what had he done with it?” her brain screamed to know. She gulped down the Sauternes as she touched her nipples and squeezed her thighs together hard.

“Natalie or James? Natalie or James?” she kept asking herself as she visualised each of them in turn. “Oh Natalie, why didn’t I get you over here today?” she muttered to herself, in a quasi decision between the two. She wondered if there was a word for aural voyeurism. That cameo of a conversation, on top of the sensual pampering she had been indulging in, had set her on fire.

It was time for more Schloss – she marched down the slope towards the house at a pace which generated a cooling breeze against her nude body, and threatened to lift her wide sun hat from her head. Suddenly, a voice calling her name stopped her in her tracks.

“Right! It’s to be James then, and this is to be the day; sorry Nat,” thought Gemma.

To her left she saw James rounding the house with his eyes fixed on the open kitchen door, where he might expect to see her. He was carrying a very clean looking chain saw. She saw him stop, and begin to turn his head to look around. Discovery was only seconds away; hiding wasn’t an option.

“I’m here James,” she called, and the young man turned towards her. She kept her cool, and did not try to cover up.

James was stunned to immobility, and a silence that decayed into a sound of sorts as the boy finally exhaled the air he had gulped in shock. Speech had not yet been restored to him, but his pulse was powering blood around his system as if he was having a full gym workout. Before him was a vision of naked loveliness, about which he had often fantasised. Never in his wildest dreams did he expect to see her naked. His eyes looked down from her beautiful face with its gentle smile, over her firm breasts to the neatly trimmed triangle of pubic hair.

Gemma was thrilled at the effect she was having. James continued to stare, with his jaw dropped.

“James, in the days of myth and legend, there were some pretty harsh penalties for mortals who came across a Faerie Queen or Goddess naked. Should a Minotaur pass this way, I shall order it to devour you.”

“Yes Gemma,” said James, finding the power of speech once more.

Gemma realised that she was far more comfortable with the situation than the young man before her.

“I’m sorry James, I wasn’t expecting you. I see you have brought the Stihl back; thank you.”

“Er, yes. Er, it needed a new bar as well as a chain so now it’s all ready to go,” he said, sliding the cover guard on and off the long bar to prove his point. This innocent movement took Gemma by surprise, and her heart seemed to miss a beat. It was as if this handsome young man had just stroked an enormous phallus in a ritual act of seduction.

The young man himself was completely unaware of this. He was overwhelmed by the spectre of loveliness before him. Lust and desire had not yet entered the equation. He was just so surprised by the surreal situation. Gemma understood that in a moment, a more basic instinct would come into play, and she took steps to take control.

“James,” she said gently, but in a tone of command, “over by the swing you will see my green yukata. Bring it to me please”

James was still rooted to the ground.

“Today please, James!”

James turned quickly and walked over to the swing and picked up the flimsy garment. As he walked back to Gemma he tried not to look at her, assuming this to be the correct thing to do, but he also had to look before the vision was snatched away from him.

“James, stop! You cannot walk towards me pretending you can’t see, while at the same time as trying to look at me. You will fall over and perhaps damage the yukata. For goodness sake, stand up straight and look at me before I wrap myself up. Come here and listen to the fate I decree, in the absence of a helpful Harpy to despatch you beyond the Styx.

An emboldened James walked forward, and then a mischievous thought overtook him. Instead of handing her the robe he held it open for her to get into.

“Nice move James. That way I have to turn around and you ogle my bum. No need.”

With that Gemma turned a full circle, but paused to bend forward slightly, and to wiggle her bottom at him. She turned back to face him with a cheeky grin, before throwing him into even deeper confusion. Stepping into him she leaned up and kissed him softly on the lips. Before he could respond she stepped away swiftly, snatching her wrap and tying it around her. James was acutely aware that her tummy had pressed against his erection as it struggled against the soft fabric of his shorts.

Gemma turned and walked towards the house, which gave James an opportunity to adjust his dress. The sway of her hips did nothing to lessen the excitement of his prick; which was like a beast which had scented prey, and was now bent on hunting it down. Gemma herself needed to calm a bit. The frisson of excitement she felt, when she had pressed briefly against James, threatened to start a chain reaction.

“Sorry Natalie”, she said to herself, “it’s man time.”

Turning back to James she said, “I’m drinking Reisling – is that alright for you?”

“Er, thank you. Yes please,” he replied, and followed his goddess into the kitchen.

Once inside Gemma handed James a glass of water. “I’ll get the wine out, but you’ve had a long walk up the hill carrying a chainsaw; water for thirst,” she smiled and licked her lips, “then wine for pleasure.”

“Now”, said Gemma as she clinked her glass to his, “what time do you have to be home to feed the goldfish or walk the cat?”

“Mum and Dad are away until Monday, and the goldfish died when I was twelve, so I don’t have to rush.” He began to entertain the possibility of the green cotton thingy being removed again.

Gemma smiled with delight while her brain shrieked, “Eat your heart out Natalie Jones!”

“Well then you are sentenced to keep me company until I dismiss you. I was having a solo day enjoying the senses. Taste, touch, smell, hearing and seeing with some poetry etc thrown in. I was enjoying the air against my skin, which I have for most of the morning, and that is how you found me. I had just had a rather self-indulgent lunch, and a glass of Sauternes, and funnily enough the idea of being ‘solo’ had lost its appeal. Now you are here to share it with me; isn’t that nice? Do you accept the terms of your punishment?”

“I don’t suppose throwing myself at your feet and begging for mercy would do any good?” replied James, with a mock look of fear.

Gemma was delighted that he had recovered some sense of ‘savoire faire’ and self confidence.

“Hmm! I like the bit about throwing yourself at my feet and begging, but there will be no mercy or remission. First we need to get you changed. I will fetch you one of these.”

Gemma left the room but was back in less than a minute carrying a larger version of the Yukata she was wearing, and a pair of sandals. “These should fit you. Strip everything off and put them on, then come and join me by the swing.”

James watched her walk away, captivated by the sway of her hips. When she reached the door, the sunlight silhouetted her nude shape beneath the fabric for a moment, causing his excitement to rise once more. He found the yukata easy to put on, and extremely comfortable to wear. He loved the feel of the air moving over his skin as he walked across the garden to join Gemma, who was swinging gently and smiling at him.

“I am going to teach you to appreciate your senses more deeply.”

“How do you mean?”

“When you walked into the garden with the saw, what did you expect to see and what did you think might happen?”

“I thought I would find you, possibly in the greenhouse, I would show you what had been done with the saw. We might have had a beer, or something, and maybe I would do a few bits of jobs for you, then wander off home. I thought of going to the ‘Green Man’ for a game of darts later.”

“James, you could probably fry an egg in the greenhouse at the moment, but instead of all of that what did you find?”

“I found you without any clothes on,” he replied with a huge grin.

Gemma grinned back. “I’ll give you credit for some observation at least. What else did you see?”

“I saw the garden behind you, you were wearing a big hat and sandals.”

“In the circumstances, noticing my sandals is quite something. What did you hear and what did you smell?”

“I don’t remember anything particular. I was a bit pre-occupied with the seeing bit.”

“You were stood next to a huge Honeysuckle in full flower. A Blackbird scurried in the hedge making alarm sounds, and a Buzzard cried over Jack’s Hill. Come with me.” Gemma led the way to the vegetable garden.

“Stand still and listen and smell for a moment. Now tell me what you can smell.”

“Cut grass from the field, some muck spreading somewhere. The Blackcurrant bush.

A general warm smell of plants and soil. Sorry, but I can also smell myself, sweat.”

“Not bad, what can you hear?”

James closed his eyes. “Crows, an angry Robin, a Buzzard, water in the brook, insects, the breeze blowing leaves, some traffic going away from Haxford on the road outside. A small dog barking in Tyler’s Wood. You just moved.”

“Pretty good James. You closed your eyes to lose the distraction of sight. You knew the direction of the traffic by the changing engine sound, and the likely size of the dog by the pitch of its bark. You were still seeking other smells. Now we are going to walk slowly. As we do, reach out and touch plants, flowers, stones; anything with texture or colour. Smell the Honeysuckle and feel the flowers. Look closely at the patterns. Watch that bee going to each of the trumpets on the Foxglove in turn, then look closely at the pollen gathered on is legs.”

Only James, from the outside world, really knew Gemma’s garden. There were other visitors, occasionally, but he had been helping in it for five years. It had begun one day with a chance conversation in the Post Office. Gemma had been saying to Enid Watson, behind the counter, that she could do with a second pair of hands from time to time. Janet Collier, James’ Mum, had overheard.

“If you really want someone, then our James is looking for some casual work that he can fit around his school stuff, and I would like to see him in the fresh air a bit more.”

“If he wants to come and look, then bring him up this afternoon if you like,” said Gemma. As she said it she doubted that the boy would want it, or would stick at it. That was five years ago. James had fallen in love with the secrecy of the place and, once he found that Gemma trusted him to get on with things, he became the sole member of the ‘Friends of High Haxford Garden’. He guarded the secrets of the garden and never talked to anyone but his Mum about it. He would work in all weathers if need be. Gemma never took advantage of his goodwill, and she paid him £12.50 an hour. For his part James worked hard, but refused point blank to accept any money if all he had done on a visit was a few minor tasks, or just been there because a second pair of hands was needed to move something heavy or awkward.

James experienced an epiphany with the garden that day. He discovered it afresh as he touched and tasted bark and moss, watched the bees at work, and inhaled the smell of fresh rubbed herbs. He experienced a new awareness with the urgency of an addict long denied access to his desire. He was a wonder to watch; Gemma felt she was privileged to be a part of his discovery of self and surroundings.

“Thank you Gemma, thank you,” he said quietly.

“Now you know. Now you understand this my sensory day. Now you know why I was naked. Come, we need to drink some juice, and then I suggest we take some more of the Schloss up to the pool. We also need to put on some more cream as well as cool down. One more thing though, to initiate you truly into this enchanting place, join me if you wish.”

Gemma undid the sash on her yukata and let it slide to the ground. James felt he was in a dream. He followed her example and the two stood naked facing each other.

“Walk with me my garden friend, and feel the air,” said Gemma softly.

“No minotaurs or harpies?”

She smiled; “There maybe a single siren around, so take care.”

James took Gemma by the hand. It seemed the most natural thing to do. She led him to the kitchen and picked up the sun cream. She began with James’ back and shoulders giving him a gentle massage at the same time. James had never felt a pleasure quite like it. His body reacted.

“Hmm! That’s quite impressive James, I’m flattered. If you do my back and shoulders then I think it best we see to the rest ourselves. However…” She left words hanging in the air but James could still read them; especially when for a moment she stood in front of him and leaned up to kiss him softly on his lips for three seconds. Quite deliberately she pushed her tummy against his penis. James gasped and for a moment stood very, very still.

“Whew! That was close, and nearly very embarrassing,” he said.

“I wouldn’t have been embarrassed James, but I will be a bit more careful. Do my neck, back and shoulders for me please but, for the moment, be business like about it as if you were a nurse administering ointment on someone you didn’t know; just to be on the safe side.”

“Good thinking,” he responded but nevertheless nearly lost the plot again a few minutes later as he watched her rubbing the cream into her breasts and over her erect nipples. When she began to rub cream into places where the sun does not usually shine, he had to turn away. When his body became a little more quiescent he marvelled that they had just had a very brief conversation about his nearly ejaculating, with the casualness of her asking him to pass the marmalade.

Gemma disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes, and James took the opportunity to use toilet off the Utility Room. When Gemma re-appeared she was carrying an armful of super-soft towels. “I placed some towels by the pool for myself earlier but I wasn’t anticipating a companion then. If you will bring wine from the fridge and a couple of glasses please? I will pick up my hat and bring you Dad’s old Panama.”

They walked back into the bright hot sun and headed for the brook. Gemma picked up their yukata as they went. Once at the pool Gemma showed James the flat stones that had been laid carefully for wine glasses. They settled into the cooling water and over the next hour discovered so much more about each other.

James learned that Gemma had got a first in History of Art at Manchester but had stopped her PhD work when her parents were killed. Gemma was brought up to date on the course content of his geography degree; and for the first time in her life understood that it was a serious subject for study.

Gemma spoke of her old friends from Manchester and some pretty wild parties. Occasionally she had ‘visitors’ from those days and her old room-mate, Natalie, was living just 20 miles away at Stow.

The conversation returned to the garden, and James surprised and delighted Gemma by likening it to the paradise garden tended by the Hesperides.

“Would you prefer to be thought of as a Nymph or a Naiad,” he said.

Gemma laughed. “Well sitting in the water like this, I have to be a Nymph. But before we get all wrinkly I think it’s time we got out and dried off. So walking in the garden I shall be a Naiad and you shall be my Satyr.”

“I’ll be your anything you like,” said James looking her straight in the eye, “just don’t let the minotaur in.”

Suddenly the electricity between them charged up. Their faces drew closer and James felt his lips tremble. Was the impossible dream now about to happen? Might he kiss the woman he had fantasised about so many times?

Gemma knew it was going to happen. This was nothing like a visit from an old student friend, when it was a case of “Shall we get down to it then?” Certainly not like Natalie who would have …

It was down to the final inch between them and their lips were parted but poised for contact. When it came it was soft as each mouth introduced itself to the other. Gemma placed her right hand against his cheek to seal the agreement as their tongues met and the mouth gymnastics slowly became more urgent. His left hand closed on her waist and slowly meandered towards her breasts, signalling its approach in case she wished to decline. There was no such message. Finally he was caressing her soft mound in his hand and as his thumb brushed over the erect nipple, her body shuddered.

It was James turn to shudder when Gemma’s hand left his cheek, laid itself over his as he kneaded her breast before moving on to take hold of his cock.

Suddenly Gemma broke away. “Quick,” she whispered, “out of the water.”

They helped each other up and grabbed towels. In the hot sun they were soon dry.

“The Summer House,” said Gemma, “I want to tell you something.”

They climbed the slope hand in hand.

“I was sitting here not long before you arrived. I overheard an amazing snatch of conversation between two women on the seat on the lane.” Gemma repeated almost word for word what she had heard.

“I was just dying to know how the ravishing proceeded, and just what it was he got out of the drawer.”

James was enthralled with the tale. “I want to know what happens when it’s her turn to ravish him,” he said excitedly.

“We might try and work it out” responded Gemma as she came in close.

She offered her mouth up to his and put her hands behind him to grab the cheeks of his arse and pull him into her. Their hands frantically explored each other, not staying still in any one place for long enough to properly enjoy the sensations. This was crude and urgent, and Gemma knew that her young lover would not last long, and she didn’t want him to fret about it.

“James stop a moment. I want you inside me now. I want you to fuck me. I want to feel you cum deep inside me and I want you to do it now.” Gemma reached between her legs and guided his prick into her expectant cunt. “Yeesss!” she cried, “now fuck me and shoot your spunk. Come on, let me feel it.”

James knew he couldn’t last long, but here was his dream calling for it, and this made the climax all the sooner.

“I, I’m cumming – nghaaaaa!” he cried as he pushed inside her as far as he could and she wrapped her legs behind his back to hold him.

They lay entwined and James felt his erection begin to subside, but even now he could feel it twitch and a tiny bit more spunk seep out. He was gulping in air.

As she felt the beautiful prick start its inevitable retreat Gemma smiled broadly.

“Thank you James, thank you. I wanted you to cum for me quickly, I wanted to feel you explode inside me.”

James grinned, “I’m sorry it was all so fast, but oh my God it was incredible. Thaaank yoooo!”

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to last the first time, but later you are going to make love to me; and we are going to have a lot of fun taking our time.” She lifted her head and kissed him. “Now Satyr mine, help me up. It’s time for a cup of tea.”

They gathered up the towels and walked down the slope in the direction of the kitchen.

“I’ll put these into the machine if you put the kettle on please. I expect you’re pretty hungry?”

“Starving!”

“Well I have prepared orange marinated chicken but it won’t do for us both, just as it is. I’ll knock up a quick prawn and avocado salad with a lime and chilli dressing as a starter. Will your Mum be planning to phone you later?”

“Yes, probably about 7.00. May I use your phone to give her a call, otherwise she will be thinking I’m spending the whole night in the pub.”

“That’s what I was going to suggest; help yourself, there’s one over there by the toaster.”

Five minutes later they were sat with a cup of tea. Gemma had retrieved the yukata, while James reported in. Janet Collier was delighted to hear her son had been learning a few things in the garden, and was staying for tea. In her eyes Gemma Coates was a sensible girl, who would keep him on the straight and narrow.

At that moment the said sensible girl was commenting on the pleasure she was still feeling, as James’ semen slowly leaked out of her. James was a bit surprised by this fact. Gemma was delighted to learn that she was his first fuck without a condom, it was a bit like taking some of his virginity.

Once they had finished their cups of tea and James had eaten some cheese and biscuits. Naiad and Satyr took to the garden once more. The Chestnut trees were now shading the greenhouse as they collected salad leaves and tomatoes, and attended to the watering.

Gemma watched as James put together a splendid looking salad and mentally congratulated Janet Collier on teaching her son some culinary skill. As she reached to pick a fresh chilli, for the dressing she was about to make, she suddenly stopped herself. She breathed a sigh of relief that her folly had been avoided.

“James,” she said, “I’m going to do a Marie Rose dressing instead, with some Horseradish to give it a kick. Is that alright with you?”

“Lovely Gemma, whatever.”

Gemma was relieved the potential disaster had been avoided. With what she planned for James’ further sensual explorations, the last thing she wanted on his tongue was any suggestion of hot chilli.

Their meal was a sensual delight in itself. Gemma laid no cutlery, except for small spoons for their avocado and prawn salad. The food was eaten by hand and it was eaten slowly. There was fresh bread to use in place of forks. Gemma coached James to eat and savour very slowly. Warm flannels were on hand for sticky fingers and faces.

After their meal they walked again in the garden. They played on the swing. They laughed and were giddy. At the Summer House they conjectured how the ‘Ravish Night’ might be proceeding for the unknown woman who had rested on the bench with her friend. James’ suggestions excited Gemma. She was not excited by their naughtiness, rather by their lack of imagination and adventure. It was her duty, she decided, to broaden his horizons for the sake of his future girlfriends.

“James, you understand that you are still under punishment until I release you?”

Gemma was delighted by the response. He stood and placed himself in front of her. Then he put his hands down her yucata to grope her breasts.

“I suppose this might rule out parole?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” shrieked Gemma, laughing. “You are now imprisoned at my majesty’s pleasure. I shall not even consider releasing you until noon tomorrow.”

James’ erection was becoming more obvious beneath the fabric of his yucata. Gemma looked up at him as she parted the fabric and took his cock in her hands.

“We were a bit hurried before James. Now we are going to take our time.”

With that she bent her head and took him into her mouth. She took him deep and then withdrew to roll her tongue around his purple head.

James was beside himself in rapture. He looked down in total wonder. Almost as quickly as she had engaged him, she released him.

“James, I don’t want you shooting your spunk just yet. I am looking forward to feeling you shoot into my mouth and then savouring the taste. We have plenty of time and there are things I want you to do for me. Have you ever performed cunnilingus?”

“No,” said James. His mind and body were reeling.

“Then Satyr mine, tonight you are going to bed me. Do not expect sleep however. I think I would like to be ravished.”