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Garden Party

2/14/2008

"Blah, blah, blah... " said the banker.


"Blah, blah, blah..." said the lawyer.


Their blond prissy wives smiled and nodded in agreement.



"And what do you do?" asked one of them, turning
to me with a grin.


"Well, " I hesitated, " I'm a...an
anthropologist."


Everybody fainted looking intrigued, the men nodded wisely
and the women adopted a mystified look.


"Oh, " said the other blond, "does that
mean you study insects and stuff?"


I put on my most fake of smiles, looked her straight in the
face and said:


"Yes...something of that sort."


Since no one had anything to comment on my alleged profession,
the five of us sunk into an awkward silence. I knew they all
loved returning back to their money and gossip talk, but
couldn't change topic so rudely. This suspended tension
pleased me immensely, and I could see their faces twisting
in the pain to find a return path to familiar topics. But
I knew I couldn't keep the pleasure long; I looked down
and noticed that my champagne glass was almost empty.


"Please excuse me; I'm going to get some more
canapés." I told the small group, making a sorry face.



They all smiled artificially and nodded and I turned away,
erasing my smile and making my way to the long table in the
middle of the lawn.


The Embassy garden party was much duller than I expected.
There was hardly anyone I knew and everyone, even those
I knew, was extremely boring. I gestured to the waiter in
white to fill my glass, picked up a handful of different
canapés and walked around the clots of people chatting.
It was a summer evening, and the sky was beginning to go dark.
We were all buzzing around the tables outside, dressed
up in dinner jackets and evening gowns. The place reminded
me what a millionaire's house in Beverly Hills must
look like. It had large French windows that exposed the
extravagance of the embassy's inside; marbled floor,
chandeliers, paintings, all the chintz and fluff you can
imagine. Outside, a long lawn spread, aligned with trees,
flower beds and some conceptual art. It streamed far and
disappeared in the damp darkness.


"I must explore this garden, " I told myself.
"It is hard to believe that have such a huge English
garden in the middle of the city."


So I returned to the table, topped up my champagne and picked
up some more of the nicer biscuits and pastries to serve
as exploration rations, and set off. Cleverly I avoided
the small talkative groupings and soon, except a strolling
couple or two, was away from the party.


It was truly a beautiful garden, the lawn was short and springy,
cut in straight, meticulous lines, it felt nice walking
on. On either side of the lawn hedges and flowers were well
arranged, in the best British tradition. I stopped by a
bush and smelled its purple blossoms. They had a sweet and
heavy smell, real flowers. Old, tall trees were planted
here and there, marked with plaques explaining when, why
and by whom they were planted. I strolled like this for a
long while, looking back to see how far I've gone from
the reception area. It must have been some three hundred
feet or so, the people looked small and shining, like some
insects buzzing around the light from the building inside's.



"This garden is so fucking amazing, " I told
myself, having no one around to listen, "It like a
the space ‒ time continuum broke up, and I found myself strolling
in 19th century Sussex or in some fairy garden; it's
a whole universe hiding between these walls."


After some more walking I reached a hedge which probably
meant the end of the garden. With a sigh, I was prepared to
turn on my hills and make it back to the boring party. After
all, the garden couldn't have gone on forever. Then,
like suddenly seeing through an optical illusion, I saw
that a part of the hedge was actually a passage, secretive
and hidden. I looked closer, and it certainly seemed like
a passage somewhere. Glancing around, I wondered whether
anyone will notice me going in. But since there was no one,
I quickly walked on, and thinking to find only the gardener's
shed, went around the hedge. I found myself between two
tall bushes, like a corridor, at the end of which there was
small, waist high, laced iron-gate.


"How strange, " I thought, "surely the
garden can't be any bigger than it is. After all, we
are in the city..."


With some hesitation I pushed the gate and found myself
on top of a few steps which gave onto another sprawling lawn.
This one was circular and smaller than the one I just left,
but still wide and impressive. Though I wasn't sure
what to do, I finally descended the steps and started to
explore this new area. It looked much like the garden I just
left, and must have been the plot adjacent. Like the embassy's
garden, this one also had trees and flowers all around,
leaving wide, round lawn in the middle; I could also see
a spectacular building at the far end of it. Walking on,
I circled the clearing and looked at the flowers. The sky
was dark blue already and the garden lamps were sporadically
lit, making it probably look bigger than it really was.
It was quiet and I was completely alone, as it was deserted.
I could only make the faintest echo from the other party.
Rejoicing in my secret discovery I went on with my exploration,
but moving a few steps in it I was very surprised to find,
sitting on a wooden bench, hidden by the hedge, a girl a heavy
looking book.


I immediately froze. Her tranquility and absurdness in
her book made it clear to me at once that I have entered a private
garden of some sort. This was clearly no longer a part of
the embassy's reception area. My immediate instinct
was to turn around and leave, but somehow I couldn't.
The brief thought of returning to the boring conversation
was unbearable. So, trying to be as quiet a I could, I approached
the girl slowly, trying to have a closer look at her.


The girl sitting on the bench was half lit and half shadowed
by the lamp's light. She looked young, nineteen, twenty,
twenty-one but clearly not more. She wore a black dress
with some red and orange embroidery, and it looked very
simple and pretty, but something about it made it clear
that it was very expensive. Her hair must have been golden
brown, or maybe ginger blond, but in the shadows it was dark
and glinting, made up high, like for a gala night. The shadows
also made her face hidden, I could only distinguish a small,
delicate nose and partly parted lips, which seemed to be
whispering or reading out quietly.


I must have been about seven meters from her when I knew I
could stop. So I adjusted my black tie and said softly, trying
to be as calm and suave as possible:


"Good evening."


She sat up abruptly, clearly startled. Her rather big eyes
stared at me sharply, looking at first a bit frightened
and then annoyed. Now I could see her face I was certain she
was about twenty years old; she had a beautiful, clear face,
and her eyes were bright blue, and looked hard. Here and
there on her white cheeks there were tiny freckles, which
gave her the look of a naughty child. Gaining her composure,
her eyes jerked quickly around, looking for other people;
then said harshly:


"Are you from the garden party?"


I found this question rather amusing, standing there in
my dinner jacket and bow tie, holding a champagne glass.



"No, " I said, "I'm a gentleman-cambriouler."
I smiled, "I didn't mean to frighten you; I'm
just here for the crown jewels."


For a moment she looked puzzled. Then she smiled for a tiny
second before resuming her harsh expression.


"I'm afraid you're lost, this garden is
the ambassador's private residence garden, it is
not open to the public."


"Oh, " I said, stressing out my disappointment,
"I was just walking around admiring these beautiful
gardens, it is hard to imagine we're in the middle of
the city."


My comment seemed to reassure her a bit and she smiled again,
looking even lovelier. When she smiled, I could see her
small, sharp teeth glinting in the artificial light. I
was standing closer to her know, and could see the long pin
that held her hair together, the tiny flowers embroidered
on her dress and the shape of her body. Without looking,
I could follow the small round curves of her breasts and
her small waist. All this I did with a quick glance, that
she won't see me checking her out.


"Yes, they are lovely, especially in the summer.
I'm told they're even nicer than the president's
gardens."


I nodded and looked around smelling her garden air. She
also had beautiful English, a rich and flowing accent,
privately educated.


"Well, if this is a private garden, " I paused,
"what are you doing here? Are you escaping the beautiful
party?"


She looked at me with mock shock. "No, I live here."
She said, with a long, joking "ooo", "I'm
the ambassador's daughter."


"Oh", I said, and having nothing else to comment
I quickly imitated an old fashioned bow.


"I'm honoured. My name is Petrovich...Alex
Petrovich."


She laughed and held up her hand, participating in the exaggerated
gestures. I covered the distance between us in two steps,
grabbed her hand and kissed it, gentleman like.


"How do you do Mr. Petrovich, " she smiled,
again prolonging her "o". "I'm Elizabeth
Holmes."


I kissed her hand again and said in a grave voice: "I
apologise, Miss Holmes, on intruding upon you like in this
manner."


She laughed again and said, in a light jovial voice now:
"Oh, you were quite right, I was bored with the party
and came here for a moment; I should probably go back soon."



Then, in a gesture which made her look childish again, she
bit her lower lip and added:


"Would you like me to give you a short tour of this garden?
It has a lot of history, you know."


"I would love that, " I said, "and I could
not imagine a better guide."


"Good" she said and stood up, straightening
her dress with a quick flick. "But I actually don't
know that much about it."


So, in a very casual manner, we started walking around the
lawn, advancing towards the house in the back.


"The garden, " she started saying, waving
her hands about "and the palace which in now the embassy
and residence where bought by the duke of Wellington after
the Napoleonic wars."


"Bought?" I remarked in a questioning tone.



"Well, actually it was requisitioned." She
smiled.


I wasn't keen on starting an historical debate, so
only nodded knowingly. And we continued to stroll slowly
with no specific direction.


"Wellington certainly had an eye for beautiful things."
I remarked, looking around.


"Oh rather, " she laughed. "You know,
he was known to have seduced half of the noble women in Paris.
There is even a room in the residency with nude paintings
of all his mistresses."


"Nude?" I asked, trying not to sound too interested,
but clearly joking. "I'd very much like to see
it."


"Maybe some day, " she answered mockingly.
"May I ask you, Mr. Petrovich, how old are you?"



I was surprised at her question; it seemed so out of place.
But decided to play her game, after all, it was her garden.
So I laughed quietly and said:


"I'm twenty eight years old, " I said,
"and am an unemployed anthropologist."


"Really?" she said lifting her eyebrows, "how
interesting. Come this way, I want to show this part of the
garden."


We turned around and she led me that what seemed like a solid
wall of hedge; but turning a corner it opened up to a small
clearing. In the clearing there was a wooden bench and a
small stone fountain. The place, even more than the entire
garden, looked deserted and hidden; though I could see
the lights from the house blinking through the bushes.
I walked to the bench and put my champagne glass, nearly
empty, on it. Elizabeth walked to the fountain and started
brushing her fingers on the surface.


She looked around and said: "Beautiful, isn't
it?"


"Uh-huh"


"I imagine this is exactly the sort of place Wellington
used to seduce women in." She commented and turned
her back to me as she continued to play with the water.


I looked at her from behind, fully aware that this was far
from an innocent remark. She had a slender body underneath
that dress; her upper back was exposed, framing a white,
freckled square between the dress's straps. Below
that I could see the round lines of her ass; it was more hinted
than seen. I didn't take my eyes off her back, seeing
how the black fabric fitted itself around her waist and
hugged the roundness of her behind. Feeling enchanted,
and drawn like through magic, I stepped closer, and stood
right behind her, still not too close, but close enough
to see that she was clenching the edge of the fountain hard.



"And how do you think, Miss Holmes, " I almost
whispered in her ear, "that Wellington proceeded
to seduce these ladies?"


"Oh well, Mr Petrovich, " she said heavily
without turning, "I assume that, being a good solider,
he attacked them when they least expected."


As she said that she arched her back and I knew this was my
cue. So very carefully I stepped forward and placed my hands
on her waist.


"How cunning", I whispered in her ear and started
to kiss her neck.


She had a long slim neck, which smelled of expensive perfume,
the skin was smooth and tingling. I kissed it softly and
felt her breathing shake her body. Very slowly, like a man
catching dangerous animals, I moved my hips forward until
my loins where lightly brushing her butt. This made my cock,
deep within my trousers, leap. She made the smallest jump,
though I knew she wasn't surprised and I continued
to kiss her neck, slowly climbing up until I reached her
ear. It was a pointy, elfish ear, and I licked and munched
on her ear lobe, carefully avoiding her jewellery until
she moaned silently and said:


"Ohhh, Mr. Petrovich, you're quite a seducer
yourself."


"It's the garden, Miss, " I whispered
in her ear. "It has the strangest effect on me."



Removing one hand from her waist, I caressed her belly,
slowly going up until I reached her chest. I could feel her
shivering beneath the gown and carefully closed my palm
on her left boob. I only held it lightly, not wanting to mess
her dress, but could feel the round breast pressing into
my hand. With slow movements I massaged it through the light
fabric and felt the nipple getting harder under my touch.



I continued to do this, kissing her ear and neck and pinching
her nipple for a moment before. My loins started to slowly
move in circles and push her ass against the fountain's
edge. Inside my trousers, my cock felt hard, trying to be
become erect but limited by pants and trousers. My face
also felt very hot and sweaty, and I could hardly breathe
with my tight collar.


"Shall we go and sit on the bench?" I suggested,
panting a bit.


She nodded briefly and turned around. Our eyes met for a
minute and I leaned forward to kiss her. But she quickly
placed her finger on my lips.


"No, dear sir, you might ruin my make-up." She
said. Instead she took my arm and led me to the bench. I couldn't
really object to that, so followed.


Elizabeth Holmes sat on the bench and I stood facing her.
Her eyes looked at me from top to bottom and she gave a mischievous
smile. When she noticed the bulge in my trousers her eyes
stopped. Without a word she caught me by my belt and opened
my zipper. My mouth opened in surprise as she slid in her
hand. I imagined will make out a bit, but didn't quite
think this will happen. But obviously I didn't say
a thing. She looked up at me and leered. With a few movements
she pulled out my cock and held it softly. It was hard and
mostly erect, a long faintly red rod without a blemish.
I closed my mouth at once.


"The garden certainly has an effect on you Mr. Petrovich,
it seems like a tree has grown in your trousers." And
she pulled my cock closer to her. I was not in a condition
to answer her, and anyway couldn't think of anything.
The sensation of her hand holding my cock was immensely
pleasant; it simply erased all words from my brain.


I stared at her, and she stared back at me. Slowly, teasing
me with her glare, then, she bended forward and carefully
put her lips to the tip of my cock. A shudder went through
me, from my cock up my spine. I clenched my teeth but didn't
stop fixing her with my eyes. She smiled, with my penis between
her lips, and swallowed me a bit further. I gasped and quickly
undid my tie and top button to get some air.


The ambassador's daughter stopped fixing me with
her eyes and started to seriously suck my dick. She held
it with one hand and jerked it slowly whilst swallowing
it further and further in her small mouth. Her lips closed
tight on it and she sucked it between her cheeks. There was
no doubt this girl was a wonderful cock-sucker, taking
more of my cock with every gesture. Her mouth and hand worked
with perfect coordination, jerking and swallowing me
slowly. I wanted to grab something, but was afraid to ruin
her hair; so my hands felt restless. Finally I put them on
my waist and stuck my hips forward. We were both very silent,
I was breathing deep through my clenched teeth and she was
as quiet as a mouse munching his dinner.


Next she took my cock out of her mouth and started licking
it entirely. She licked it all, from the head, all the shaft
and down to my balls, which she took out of my trousers. With
her sharp, pointy tongue, which felt velvety on my prick,
she went down my shaft. When reaching my balls, Elizabeth
started to suck on the loose skin of the sack. Her hand was
sliding all over my wet cock now, squeezing and massaging
it. After playing like this for a moment she licked it again
all the way to the head and began sucking it once more.


"Ohh, yes..." I grunted, "Ohh, please
don't stop..."


My cock felt lovely in her mouth and a small moan escaped
my lips, adding to the sounds of the blowjob. It was an amazing
sight, seeing this beautiful and elegant girl, going down
on me in the corner of her garden. The fact that she was the
ambassador's daughter only made it better. Her mouth
was warm and wet and I slowly hypnotised by the movements
of her lips and hand. She increased her rhythm, jerking
my prick harder and harder and I could almost feel the beginning
of orgasm building in my balls. But this must have tired
her because quickly she slowed again and finally stopped.
She took it out of her mouth and looked up at me. Her lipstick
was still perfect, untouched by all the licking and sucking.
My cock was shining and bright from her saliva and she still
stroked it slowly.


"That was very nice, Miss Holmes, thank you."



"Please, call me Elizabeth, " she said leaning
back on the bench and slowly spread her legs. "Now
what shall we do next?"


I kneeled on one knee of the grass before her and put my hand
on her leg, slowly sliding it upwards until I almost reached
her knee.


"Maybe we can continue the tour." I asked, "There
is one flower that I'm particularly keen to see."



She smiled and slowly started to pull up her gown. She carefully
hoisted it as much as possible, revealing a lovely pair
of smooth and white legs and knees. She managed to pull much
of the dress up to her waist now and so spread her legs a bit
further. Looking me straight in the eyes, Elizabeth Holmes
gave me an inviting smile and lifted her dress a few inches
more.


I put a hand on each knee and slowly slide them to her thighs,
which were mostly hidden. They felt smooth under my touch
and I caressed them back and forward, looking at her the
whole time. She moaned softly and closed her eyes. I sensed
her thighs' muscles jerking for a second as her body
responded to my touch. Finally my palms went all the way
up her thighs and I felt her satin and lace panties.


Without seeing what I was doing, my hands found their way
around the fabric and touched the short hair of her pussy.
She gasped and put a finger in her mouth, sucking on it with
her eyes shut. I brushed her public hair slowly, feeling
her body nervous underneath it. Then I explored further,
tracing the lips of her vagina with my fingers. With slow,
careful movements I pinched and flicked around her pussy,
searching for her clit and snatch. All this I was doing without
looking, but keeping my eyes fixed on her face. I could see
her twitching and her face shining when I touched a sensitive
spot.


"Ohhh, " she whispered softly, her bosom rising
as she breathed in. "Yes, there..."


I smiled at her, though she wasn't looking, and continued
to massage her pussy. I finally found her wet opening and
slowly pushed a finger in her. She was dripping hot inside
and my finger explored her carefully. I felt the different
textures in her tunnel and caressed the smooth and the bumpy,
feeling her squeeze my finger. In the meantime my thumb
found her clit button and pressed it, moving it in small
circles. She panted deeper and I saw one of her hands was
grabbing hard the edge of the seat, while the other cupped
her breast.


"I suspect you enjoy this, " I said, almost
aloud.


She nodded without a word, absorbed in her pleasure.


I continued to massage her like this for a while, feeling
small orgasms going through her body. The joint movement
of stroking her clit and pussy together sent her shivering
every few moments. It was magnificent, controlling her
body like this with a couple of fingers. The sight of her,
slouched on the bench before me, her lips parted, her eyes
closed and my hands up her dress was unbelievable. Yet I
wanted more; I wanted to taste this place underneath her
black cloth. So, slowly with some hesitation, I pulled
my hand out and looked at my fingers. They were covered in
shining fluid and smelled the heavy perfume of her vagina.
I breathed in this smell and then wiped them on the clean
grass. With my hands, I pushed back her dress, as high as
it could go and with a careful bend, I went forward and put
my head under her gown.


It was dark and very tight between her legs. I could see nothing
and had almost no place to move. Her thighs were pressing
me from both sides and my head was brushing against the fabric
of her dress. But I could smell her pussy, right in front
of me, and touched her knickers with my nose. With a finger
and some difficulties I finally managed to move those knickers
aside, and could feel her public hair brushing my face.
The smell was unbelievably sweet and strong, intoxicating
me completely. I felt lost in a dark cave, unable to see or
move, but knew I was close to my objective. With my tongue,
as far out as possible, I searched in the darkness for her
pussy. I knew it was right before me and after a minute could
feel it; her wet genitals touched the tip of my tongue. Pushing
forward, I licked it slowly, forcing my head further between
her legs. Her pussy juices were sharp, almost acidic, but
sweet. Her thighs pressed harder on me as her body quivered
to my touch.


I licked her as much as I could, moving my tongue over the
different parts of her pussy in small thrusts. Finally
I found her clit and lapped at it like a poor cat. Though I
couldn't hear her, I knew she was enjoying this, her
body was charged with energy and the shaking of her thighs
crushed my head. My tongue felt the hardness of her clitoris
as its tip flicked on it quickly. Her sweat and cum covered
my mouth and cheeks, almost dribbling to my chin. As her
body trembled, I felt more fluids gushing out of her. She
came strong and hard, but with little movement, only short
spasms jerking her delicate body.


I felt great, buried in this velvety cave, but my mouth already
felt numb and my tongue was aching, I couldn't continue
licking her like this, and had to slowly retreat. Going
out, I wiped my mouth on her panties and thighs. Finally
my head was out and I straightened up to take a deep breath.
My body was hard and painful from the long bending and I wiped
my mouth some more with the back of my hand.


I looked at her. She seemed almost asleep, as if she was napping
on this garden bench. Her eyes were closed and she breathed
heavily, all her muscles seemed relaxed; but her legs were
wide open and the drawn dress exposed much of her thighs.
She was smiling in an absent manner, as if in a dream. I felt
hot and short of breath, and my penis was hanging out, mostly
limp. Without a word, I got up and sat next to her, panting.
She didn't move at first but finally opened her eyes
to a slit and smiled at me. Then her hand started strolling
on my lap and caressed my cock.


"Ahhh, " she yawned, "that was lovely,
I hope you enjoyed your visit down there."


I nodded briefly, too tired and painful to speak.


The ambassador's daughter and I were sitting like
this on the bench for w short while. Neither of us moved and
we were completely oblivious to the world around us. Then
slowly, I could feel her hand jerking my cock, it was getting
hard again.


"Do you want to fuck me?" she whispered in my
ear. "Do you want to fuck, here on the bench, or should
we go back to the party?"


I loved her posh English accent murmuring in my ear to fuck
her. Every time she said "fuck" my cock got harder.



"Here, now, " I said, "I want to fuck you
now."


She smiled widely as if she'd just won a prize in party
draw. Her hand squeezed my prick hard and stroked it up and
down. For a moment she seemed preoccupied but then she smiled
again and rose. I remained seated and watched her hoist
up her dress to her waist once more. Then she sat on the bench
and slouched until she was lying on it rather than sitting.
Her robe was gathered all up and she spread her legs as far
as possible, almost lifting them in the air.


"Come, " she said, gesturing between her legs,
"I want your cock in me like this."


I got up and stood in front of her, I could almost see all the
way down to her panties. Without hesitating, I unbuckled
me belt and dropped my black trousers and pants to the grass.
I couldn't help thinking, for a brief instant, how
odd we must have looked; me standing in a jacket and white
shirt, my tie undone and my trousers dropped and her, half
lying ‒ half sitting on the bench with her dress all the way
up her waist and a dirty look in her eyes. But these thoughts
didn't prevent me from carrying on.


Grabbing my prick in my hand, I crouched and advanced between
her legs. Soon my hand and penis disappeared under her dress
and I had to fondle in the darkness to find her opening. She
looked bemused at my expression, trying to locate her pussy.
After a minute I finally felt her knickers, and tried to
slide them to the side, but it wasn't that easy, the
damn things just seemed to prevent any access to her cunt.
I tried to pull them off, but they only interfered more.



"Dam, " I said annoyed, "Your panties
are getting in the way."


She giggled and looked at me teasingly.


"Tear them away then." She said with a smile.



Strangely, this dirty proposal shocked me. And after a
minute the idea of ripping her panties apart excited me.
I smiled and reached down with both hands. It took a to find
a place to grab them firmly, but after a minute or so I managed
to hold them and pulled. The damn thing wouldn't come
apart. I took a breath and pulled again, but succeeded in
only tearing away the lace on their edge. I cursed.


She laughed. "Pull them to my knees." She told
me, putting her legs together.


I did so, and even though now I had no access at all to her pussy,
at least I could see what I was trying to rip. I looked at the
black satin panties and tried tearing them again. Amazing
how strong this fucking tissue was, they were also wet and
hard to grab. Finally I found the sewing line on the side
and with a sudden movement split them apart. Without thinking,
I ripped at the other side as well, and held them in my hand.
She had nice panties, even though they were reduced to a
wet, uncertain shape with threads all over. I sniffed her
smell on them and displayed them to her like a trophy.


"Mission accomplished, Ma'am." I said.



"Give" she ordered, and I handed them over.
She squeezed them in her fist and looked at me again, with
anticipation, spreading her legs once more.


I crouched again between her legs and moved in until my hand
felt her hairs. My fingers explored lower and I discovered
her lips, lower still my finger met her snatch; she was wet
and ready to be penetrated. I had to use my hand to place my
cock near her pussy opening, and brushed its head a few times
on her clit, getting it wet. Our eyes locked, she nodded
and clenched her teeth as I slowly pushed in my cock into
her.


Her pussy was very tight, and I had to push hard to enter.
But it was also very wet, and soon I managed to slide more
and more of my prick inside. Her tunnel was squeezing me
and I was caught hard between her thighs; I grabbed those
with my hands and lifted them in the air, making her slide
even lower on the bench. With no hesitation, I pushed my
hips forward and felt my cock entering her deeper. She made
a small cry and grabbed the edge of the seat with a hand. Her
eyes were wide open and she bit her lip. I pushed again and
felt my cock ramming her further. Finally I did a series
of short pushes until all of it was in.


"fuck, " I grunted, "you have a tight
pussy."


Elizabeth didn't respond, and I knew that all her senses
were busy with the big cock in her. It was a fantastic sensation,
grabbing her thighs and feeling my penis being buried in
her pussy. The skin on her legs was smooth and silky and her
public hairs were brushing against mine. I could feel the
wetness of her clit on my crotch as I pulled back a bit and
shove my cock back in, hard and strong, seeing her body jump
when my hilt hit her loins. I did it again, feeling the passage
accepting me more every time.


Soon I was pumping in and out of her in fast. My hips went in,
burying my cock in her wet snatch and out, leaving only the
head in. I dropped one of her legs and put my hand on top of
hers, grabbing the edge of the bench. I was bending on top
of her, my ass thrusting up and down in the air, our eyes constantly
connected. I started fucking her with fast, short jerks,
feeling my balls bang against her pussy.


"You like this?" I panted, "You like being
fucked by a stranger in the park?"


She nodded but didn't say a word; a minute later she
started moaning and panting, asking me to fuck her more.



I took a deep breath and returned to pump in and out of her
with long, deep strokes. My balls felt hot and some cum was
gathering in my shaft, anticipating the moment to burst
out. I could feel the veins of my prick as it was rubbing inside
her; exciting her different spots. I loved the feeling
of her pussy lips closing on my prick every time I entered
her. My hips were almost moving by themselves, I was too
occupied by holding her up and staring at her. The penetration
rhythm increased and Elizabeth started saying:


"Yes, yes, fuck me hard, don't stop, don't
cum yet."


This made me to slow as I forced my hips to calm down and shaft
her slower. We were both panting hard and I could feel the
sweat tricking on face and sticking the back of my neck to
the shirt's collar. To vary the movements, I pumped
her carefully, in a relaxed rhythm, until I stopped completely
and pulled my cock out. I let go of her leg and felt the tiredness
of my arm.


"No, " she exclaimed, looking like an angry
child, "I want you to fuck me more."


I leered and said, "We're not done yet. Get on
your knees on the bench."


She gave me a dirty smile and slowly got up; by her movements
I could also see that her body was sore. After arranging
her gown she climbed on the bench, displaying her ass to
me. It was wrapped under the dress, but I could see she had
a perfectly round, well shaped butt.


"Like this?" she teased, wiggling her behind.



"Very good, Miss Holmes, now pull up your dress as
much as you can."


She put her hands on her butt and slowly started to pull her
dress. She revealed her white legs, the back of her knees
and finally her thighs. The dress went further and further
up, exposing beautiful, fresh thighs, which were almost
shinning. I could almost see her pussy from behind. Unfortunately
she was unable to lift the dress above her ass, which remained
hidden.


"Very good" I said, moving behind her and putting
my cock between her legs. "Should I carry on with the
fucking?"


She nodded, looking at me over her shoulder. So I sled my
hands carefully under her dress and managed to grab her
ass. Her buns were firm and round, the perfect grabbing
handles. She looked at me, turning her head backwards and
leered. I looked at her hair, which not long ago was carefully
arranged high and elegantly, was now a mess of falling locks
and stray hairs. My hands dug deeper into her ass as I looked
at the beauty of her back and shoulders, her shoulder blades
were writhing like wings.. Then I moved in my cock and navigated
it just outside her dripping pussy. With a single gesture
I pulled her towards me and felt my cock getting buried in
her.


"Oh, " she moaned, "I like it like this,
fuck me more."


I grinned and pulled her ass again, spearing her on my prick
once more. My hips stayed still, but I fucked her harder
and harder by moving her ass. She moaned and held the back
of the bench with both hands, her head jerked backwards
with every penetration, making her hair become even looser.
Slowly I increased the rhythm, until my loins started moving
again and I pumped into behind. My hands became metal claws
gripping her ass cheeks and I was shafting her stronger
with every stroke; I felt like a machine, an automate for
fucking.


Soon I was fucking her fast and deep. My hips jerked backward
and forward like crazy, living creatures, trying to penetrate
in as much as possible. She was moaning and screaming, grabbing
hard the rattling frame of the bench. I panted and started
murmuring through my lips.


"Fuck... yes...you like it, ah? Tell me you like it!"



Elizabeth turned her head backwards and looked at me. My
eyes were half closed but I could see that her teeth were
clenched hard and she had an almost mad look in her eyes.



"I love it darling, " she whispered in posh
English, "I love you fucking me like this."



Encouraged by her voice I fucked her stronger, driving
my cock deeper. Her beautiful back arched and twitched,
and I had to hold her butt tight to keep her on my dick. Spasms
were climbing up my spine and the pressure in my cock became
almost too much to bear. I pumped her hard and strong, feeling
how every stroke entered her fully. There was no slowing
down now, this was the final set and I wanted to enjoy it to
the end. Without control, cum was speeding in my cock like
a giant wave to the shore and my body was swept by it. My back
arched, my hips jerked back and forth in an unstoppable
speed and my mind was flushed by bright light.


"I'm cumming, " I cried softly. "I'm
cumming in your hot pussy."


She might have said something, but I couldn't hear
anything any more. Cum was pumping hard out of my cock and
into her pussy, it was almost painful. My eyes were closed
and I felt my teeth grinding each other. Electric spasms
went through my balls to my ass and to every other part of
the body. I felt them tickling the tip of my prick and making
the hairs on my head stand. More and more cum splashed out
of me and I was suspended in the air, floating somewhere
between heaven and earth; until I crashed down on her back,
panting heavily.


It took me a while to realize the smooth and wet skin of her
back wasn't the ground, and slowly my senses adjusted.
I could hear her quick heartbeats slowly slowing down and
her fast breaths becoming normal again. My cock stopped
oozing, but was still inside her, retreating outside.
After a minute, Elizabeth started to straighten up and
I sled of her back and collapsed on the bench beside her.
I was still breathing hard and feeling dizzy. My eyes were
shut and I was in a world of my own.


Sensing movement, I opened my eyes and saw that Elizabeth
sat normally and removed a rebel hair from her face. Her
face was red and shining; small drops of sweat made her forehead
glisten and her eyes regained the calmness of before. She
sighed and looked at herself. Then, with the panties she
was still holding in her hand, she started to clean her pussy
under the dress, soaking up the wetness. After this Elizabeth
Holmes stood up, adjusted her dress and hair and regained
her chilled expression.


I struggled to my feet and started lifting my trousers,
when she looked around and said loudly:


"Wilkinson, Wilkinson, you can come out now..."



To my shock and surprise, a tall security guard in a dark
suit came through the bushes not ten meters away. He had
no expression, and his tough face was stone. I stared at
him in disbelief, wondering how long he has been there and
what did all this mean. Then I looked at her, unbelieving
her calmness. My cock was still hanging outside in the garden
air and I tucked it in as fast as I could whilst arranging
my shirt in my trousers. I didn't know whether to look
at her or at the guard so stood there completely thunderstruck.



"I must go back for the toast, " she told him.
"Father is probably waiting me. Mr. Petrovich here
was lost, kindly show him outside."


I looked at her amazed, my mouth opened, but no word came
out. The ambassador's daughter walked towards me
slowly and put her wet panties in my palm; I couldn't
think of anything to say.


"If you'll ever want to have another tour of the
garden, Mr. Petrovich, show this to the guard at the gate."
She said and gave me the briefest smile.


Then she turned away and quickly walked towards the main
building. I followed her with my eyes until she disappeared
in the darkness.


I turned around and looked at the security guard, he stood
motionless and without expression. Not knowing what to
do, I walked back to the bench and sat on it, trying to understand
what just went on. I noticed my forgotten champagne glass
was still intact and some liquid remained in it. The guard
made some movements suggesting that I should get moving,
but I ignored him. I stood up and raised the glass in the air.



"Well, " I said to no one. "God save the
queen." and emptied my champagne.

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Members can vote on this response!

Wow! What a detailed and erotic essay

2/14/2008

Members can vote on this response!

that was fucking unbelievable!!! I loved it!

4/20/2008