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Old 07-01-2011, 02:18 PM
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tasha tasha is offline
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An early evening

The Virginia garden is quite large, surrounded by tall hedges, trees and although in a built up area, quite secluded. It is evening and Lottie is enjoying her aperitif with Abe, sitting in the evening sun on their patio behind the house, she in a strappy blouse and light skirt and he wearing shorts and colourful shirt. Just the two of them, the warm summer air very pleasant, the passage of aircraft high overhead leaving their long lines across the sky.
“Long lines in the evening presage a poor day tomorrow, “ Lottie observes.
“Perhaps, but that’s just an old tale,” replies Abe.
Lottie eyes the bowl of nibbles between them: a few bacon bits and some cheese balls.
“You’ve had lots of those ball things already,” Abe remarks.
“Only 3 but I like fingering and eating balls. There are only 2 left!”
“Yeah, well you can’t have them. They’re mine!” says Abe, grabbing them.
They must have had an apero or two already because Lottie, with a slightly glazed look in her eye, says:
“Well, give me 2 of your balls then!” She beckons to him.
Abe stands and moves over towards her. Deftly, she whips the top of his shorts undone and unzips him, and pulls out the 2 balls which she fingers, rolling them around in both her hands.
Abe stiffens, but every inch the gentleman, he says:
“Here, you can’t be doing this to me. Rather it should be the other way round.”
There is a large white table near where they are sitting. He leads her to it, gives her a long, lingering kiss and pushes her against the table, inviting her to lean back onto it.
Lottie lies back, her legs dangle over the edge. Abe pushes them apart, slips a hand up her thigh, lifts the skirt up, spies her black panties with writing on them. He reads “Mine of fiery serpents”: it certainly is! He runs his fingers up to them, feels the silk material, a feeling he loves. He slides his fingers round the elastic, pulls gently at the top, Lottie closes her legs and Abe, needing no further invitation, removes them.
Lottie is now exposed in all her glory.
He bends to his task; not a task really, pleasure rather. He moves up towards her portal, hedged around with a light covering, carefully shaped. She moves her legs apart, offering him a good view of the tender lips, as yet pretty much closed up. He savours the sight before his eyes, something he always admires. Lottie watches him as he gazes longingly at her intimate parts, then lays back her head and looks at the sky waiting in splendid anticipation. If only those people up there could see me now, she muses. Or perhaps somebody can see through the hedge? The thought sends a little shiver through her. She does not want to handle balls at the moment but she imagines Abe’s rampant organ; she just wants to feel the rasp of Abe’s tongue on her muff, opening it up, working its way towards her nub, probing below it, kissing her, sucking, pushing.
Abe knows that she wants him to move along. He teases; he breathes onto her, he licks around the delicate opening, he moves his tongue up and down the fold in the skin between her mound and her leg, he traverses across, he comes back, and at last he slides his tongue right up the crack, pushing it out to open her up and moisten her. No need to worry about that! She is already damp, her nectar just glistening in the evening light.
Lottie feels this exquisite teasing; it’s part of the anticipation of what he will do next. Her eyes are shut so that she can concentrate on Abe’s attentions. He licks her up and down; she feels his tongue on her clit. She senses a flicking of his tongue - oh so good, that – he pauses, her clit in his mouth, he then sucks on it, gently at first, then harder, sucking it out, running his tongue over it at the same time and she cries out, she needs him to rub it more, she needs release, she has been made to rise swiftly to near the apex of her desire.
“Aahh, go on, on, don’t stop, keep licking,” she gasps at Abe. Abe is engrossed in his own pleasure; he knows he will bring her off shortly. He sucks, he lets go, he licks keenly and rapidly and Lottie, writhing on the table now, is in seventh heaven. Her lust and desire are on the edge of breaking; she can take no more; she grabs Abe’s head pulling it against her; with a great cry she peaks holding his head tightly to her as the waves of her excitement crash over her, going on and on, her body racked in the joy of her release.

Abe must be practical: he has to breathe, so he eases Lottie’s hands from his head. His face is wet with her nectar; she tasted good. He looks up at her from between her legs. What a lovely pleasure that was, he thought. She’s such a lovely girl…..and Lottie, descending from her peak thinks what a wonderful tongue Abe has. He never fails to raise me to new heights when he uses it.
Abe moves away, still ramrod stiff but he covers himself, and Lottie sits up, gets down from the table and returns to her chair and her apero.
“What a glorious summer evening it is, you lovely man,” she says.
“It is, and the night is yet young!” answers Abe.
He is wondering what pleasures might await him, thinks Lottie. I wonder what I can do for him.
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