Under the Old Elm

Author's note: the following story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. The author wishes to express his gratitude to Copperbutterfly for her editing to make this a better story.

Ah, she was a beauty. Well, maybe not a raving beauty in the Hollywood sense but she was certainly physically attractive. She had longish blonde hair with big curls that framed her face in a very appealing manner. Her figure was good and he was drawn to it right from the instant he saw it.

But the one feature that first caught his eye was her bust line. If he were a betting man, he would bet that she was a D-cup, probably 38 inches give or take a little. She was wearing a purple blouse, rayon or satin, very shiny and soft looking. It had something like flaps over the tops of her shoulders, just two or three inches of material but there were no sleeves. When she lifted her arms to touch her hair, the soft curve of the side of her breast was readily apparent, even though she was wearing a bra. When she turned toward him, his heart leaped with lust to see the deep valley between her boobs, displayed prominently in the low cut of the blouse.

Glen Marchant had been sitting in the shade on the park bench, enjoying the faint cooling breeze in the dark shade of a tall old elm tree when the woman approached and sat on the other end of the short bench with a smile but no words. Being an observer, especially of feminine assets, he had spotted her assets immediately. Only after a close examination of her breasts did his eyes fall to the roundness of her bottom encased in black slacks. He would have loved to reach out and pat that shapely bottom but dared not take the chance.

Instead he watched her sit and then observed her out of the corner of his eye, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. After several minutes of just sitting, Glen broke the ice.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," she replied in a sweet soft voice.

"Not too hot here in the shade."

"No, just about right."

Another few minutes passed in silence and the woman stood. Turning to Glen, she bent forward and extended her hand.

"It has been nice sharing the bench with you."

Glen took her hand but his eyes were in the now-wide-open valley between her breasts, which were all but exposed to him, the little bra barely covering more than half of the creamy white globes. He licked his lips.

"Beautiful," he muttered, believing that he had just thought that to himself.

Her eyes followed the trail of his eyes and then she smiled at him, but made no attempt to straighten up.

"May I touch?" he asked, barely audibly.

"No, I couldn't do that," she replied. "They are very sensitive."

"Really? Not even like this."

His fingertip started at her breastbone and moved downward, just lightly traversing the smooth skin. He sensed, rather than saw, her change and glanced at her face, only to see her eyes closed in a dreamy expression, her nostrils flared as her breathing quickened.

"No, I ... I really ... couldn't let ... "

His finger turned toward one of the globes, tracing the outline of her breast just above the ridge of the bra. Their right hands still clasped in a forgotten handshake, she put out her left hand to steady herself and touched his shoulder, grabbing him in a tight grip.

Glen didn't believe he had touched the woman. Never before in his life had he touched a stranger in such an intimate way, with so little in the way of introduction between them. Yet now that he had started, and seeing her response, there was no way he could stop himself. His fingertip slid under the top edge of her bra and began a slow journey back across the broadest part of the orb.

When he reached her hard nipple, her breathing was ragged and fast; he utterly believed her about her breasts being sensitive! It was an unbelievable response but he was seeing it with his own eyes. His finger lingered on the hard rubbery protuberance, pushing it this way and that, mashing it softly, and rubbing it in little circles.

He felt her legs begin to give way. The handshake dissolved as she grasped his other shoulder for support. With his free hand, he reached around her waist, slid his hand down to her round bottom and pulled her toward him. Her legs seemed to spread of their own accord and she straddled him, sitting on his lap with her stomach pressing his rock hard cock. Now with one hand on her ass and the other still fondling her breast, he looked around and verified that there was no one else in sight in the park.

Without letting his hand lose contact with her beautiful twins, he began working the buttons on her blouse open. As the creamy white skin was exposed to the shaded light, he dropped his lips to her and began to kiss her. The front clasp of the bra came open with a little effort and his mouth closed over her nipple. The woman groaned with pleasure, writhing on his lap until he thought she would make him cum in his pants. Fortunately she came first, biting her lower lip to keep from screaming out her pleasure.

"I couldn't ... I shouldn't ... "

"I know, baby, but you need it, don't you?"

"Um, hum," she whispered into the side of his neck.

He supported her enough to get his mouth back on her other nipple and in a few minutes she was in a state of high arousal.

Helping her stand while she kept her hands on his shoulders for support, he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock and balls. With one quick movement, he pulled her pants and panties down near her knees.

As he lifted and turned her, pulling her back onto his lap, she said, "Honey, I really ... really shouldn't ... do this."

With her back against his chest, he whispered in her ear as his cock began sliding up into her oh-so-wet pussy, "But you do need this, don't you, sugar?"

"Oh, yeah!" she whispered, thrusting her buttocks back against his impaling spear.

"Do you really want me to stop?" he whispered.

"N...no," she said, slumping against him.

His hands went to her sensitive boobs, for the first time able to fondle both at the same time. In moments, the woman was a frenzy of activity, trying to thrust her ass down on his cock to force it deeper into her cunt while she thrust her chest out against his fondling hands. He felt her pussy squeezing, pulsing as she ground down on him after just a few minutes of action.

Glen could have shot his load into the woman then and walked away but he believed she wanted more, no matter what her words were. He thought for a few minutes about the smell of rotten eggs, supplemented by remembrance of the stench of an open sulphur storage pit in the coastal town where he grew up. Those two thoughts left his hard-on intact but his interest in cumming immediately was staunched.

He dropped a hand between the woman's thighs and felt of her soaked pubes, just a little patch above her crease. His fingers slipped into her crease and circled her clitoris, stopping long enough to graze the sensitive bud every so often. Over and over the woman came, shuddering and pulsating around his cock. At last he could hold out no longer, even with the thought of bad smells in his brain. Instantly they were replaced with the wondrous sweet fragrance of the woman, a soft sweet perfume now mixed with the unmistakeable musky smell of hot sex.

She was leaning back against him, her pussy occasionally squeezing his slowly deflating cock, when she said, "I promised myself as a new year's resolution that I would not cheat on my husband any more. I made it over eight months until today."

"Oh? Do you regret it?"

"No. Oh, no! Not after the way you made me feel."

"Do you still have sex with your husband?"

"Sure. But he just can't understand."

"So he doesn't do it for you, huh?"

"Oh, sometimes he does," she said wistfully, as she struggled upward to pull her slacks and panties up. "Just not very often."

Glen tucked his penis and scrotum back into his pants and zipped up. The woman sat back on the bench to fasten her bra and button her blouse.

"I'm going to have to make a new resolution," she said. "I know it's not right to do this to him."

Glen didn't say anything but when she had finished the last button, he pulled her to himself for a long hug. She was so soft and so cuddly that he wished ... he wished she was his to pamper, to caress, to make love with until she was sated. Finally she put both hands against his chest and gently pushed away.

"I'll be here day after tomorrow," she whispered and then she was gone.

The end