This is largely a true story. Obviously, the names have changed to save any embarrassment, but otherwise, this is how my summertime of 2000 was spent. I will never forget it. It does set off a bit boring, but I had to set the scene so, forgive me that.


Summer 2000



My mobile earphone rang and vibrated on the desk in my web site office. I picked it up and glanced at the screen to see if it was a recognize number, perhaps even the caller's name. The cover told me it was the office calling.

"Hello ?"I said a second base after hitting the green answer button.

"howdy Brad, its Lucy here, I have Mr. Ash on the personal credit line for you. Just putting you through."The line went quiet for a moment.

Mr. Ash was the Managing Director of Ash Construction who had employed me as a internet site broker. I had been with them for only six hebdomad, two of which had been spent on holiday in Crete.

thing had gone bad when I returned to work on the construction of a new annex to a primary school. As I walked on site, I found a seventeen-ton 36o degree digger sitting astride a three-meter cryptic trench. The sides were crumbling and it had been raining all weekend.

To top it all, no oceanic abyss bread and butter had been put in place and Irish potato was asking for a ladder so he could get down to the bottom to find his hard hat. The machine was likely to tip into the trench and probably bury Irish potato at the same time.

To say it was a drollery of errors would be an understatement.

To cut a long narration shortly, I stopped the job on health and safe grounds. Tore a comic strip off the twist director who had been baby sitting my job while I was away and very nearly came to blows with the ground working sub-contractor who owned the motorcar and was losing money by the minute.

I guess I had been expecting the telephone call from Mr Ash and fully expected to be invited to fuck off.

"Brad, its David Ash here."He didn't sound too pissed with me."I understand you have stopped the job in Caterham."

I told him I had and the reasons for my calling a halt to the fury. I reminded him that I was ultimately responsible for what went on on-site and I had no purpose of being jailed because of some stupid activeness of a crazy Irishman and a Construction Manager, too lazy or dullard to see what was wrong.

"fountainhead yes, I see your peak. However, that wasn't what I was calling about…"He paused, perhaps to set aside me to stop spluttering.

"… I want you to descend into the agency, today, if you would. Your ship's company car is waiting here for you. It isn't a new one, but will do for now. I also want to go over a new undertaking with you. I need person to run a job we have, one hundred and eighty flats in Deptford that are being refurbished. We are sacking the two land site Managers who between them have fucked it up royally. Can you get here within the hour ? Oh, and by the way, your probation menstruum is over.

I was flabbergasted ; three calendar month probation had just turned into six calendar week. I guess stopping the job had been the right thing to do and I was getting a nice shiny car to flush. I called my wife to let her know.

And so, that good afternoon, stepping from my Ford Focus, I found the site I was to run. Two large blocks of brick built sociable housing that had been constructed just after the war as a warm solvent to the housing dearth caused by the bombing of British capital. The flats ( apartments ) were stacked on top of each former with a shared balcony connecting each battlefront door and a concrete staircase at each end. They were hideous and depressing to see at.

The internet site chemical compound didn't thrill me too much either. Three converted steel containers formed the site-office ; stores and an admin hut all encompassed with steel, ensnarl fencing material. It didn't looking at promising and I soon found out the extent that the two previous Managers had made a mess of things.

Each of the apartment was to suffer new UPVC replicate glazed windows, a new breast door, a new fitted kitchen, a refurbished privy and a new heating plant and hot water system. This was to modernise the living conditions of the flatcar and bring them up to an acceptable European standard.

The affair was though ; each flat was occupied and would be, all the way through the program. The upthrow to their daily sprightliness was incalculable and perhaps, that is where the two Managers and the Council, who was the client, had not understood the effect on their customers.

I knew I was in for a fierce ride and asked Mr. Ash a few twenty-four hour period later, if this was a punishment. He laughed and then told me it needed somebody with balls to run it and dig it out of hassle. I thanked him for his faith in me and told him he owed me one. Big time.

I took me a few days to get myself sorted and to understand the level of works in each flat. Some were having to a greater extent works than others and it really came down to my judgement of the existing term for the dwelling. It meant that I had to claver every family to survey each room and form a stipulation and agenda of works. That was when the fun began.

I can not remember exactly, the job was completed many years ago now, but I suppose it must have been about three hebdomad into it. I visited a flat on the fourth floor, having made an appointment.

The cleaning lady answered the bell in her housecoat and carpet slipper which I though a bit odd. It was, after all, gone ten in the sunrise, a bit late to be peel. Especially as she would have had to be up for her child, take them to school day, feed them and so on. I accepted her invitation to inscribe with my clipboard and machinate figure for various rooms.

This small woman, just less than five fundament with mousey hair and a little skeletal system, offered me coffee, which she put on the table in the living room. The study its ego took no more than fifteen minutes. I was ready for the coffee and sat in her living room to blab out her through the program and what to expect. I asked if she had any dubiousness at the end of my prepare speech.

"Any chance I can choose the roofing tile in the bathroom ?"She asked, her head cocked to one side and an puzzling smile on her face.

I told her that we only did diamond Andrew D. White. She sat opposite me in an armchair and shit ! Her smile grew wider and her pegleg parted to show she had no underclothes on. I had a grandstand view of her snatch.

"So no fortune of a nice light blueing then ?"

I don't remember what I said, but in fairly ready order she was on my lap, my hand buried up her hollow and her tongue down my throat. Man ! But could she worm. She smelled howling ; her perfume was insidious and intoxicating. The housecoat was discarded and her tits, even after childbirth, were well formed, not immense and didn't sag. Her paunch was nice and pissed and all in all, a corking package and willing to use her body to get what she wanted.

I fucked her over the arm of the settee, plunging into her willing physical structure, our juices squishing merrily at the rhythmic onslaught. I don't have it off how farsighted it lasted, but I do remember blasting a massive consignment into her grit and then, her saying we could not appropriate me to leave smelling of sex. This nutcase cleaning woman sucked off all of our essences.

acerate leaf to say, her bathroom was tiled in a Nice duck-egg blue.

Until this job, casual sex was not something I was overly conversant with. Not through naivety, but to a greater extent a lack of opportunity ; How that was to modify over the following twelve months.

Men may think they have the power, not so. The female of the species has the tools to make a turn man beg, cringe or become enslaved, all for the want of cunt. We are such sad dickhead really.

A misses Thomas Jonathan Jackson on the third base floor of block one showed me just how easily men would snatch at opportunity. My survey appointment took me lupus erythematosus than ten minutes, I was getting more technical at assessing the pauperization of each flat. She was inglorious. She originated from British Guiana and spoke with a distinctive accent. I was pleased to see she did not carrying the usual ‘ big swag'favoured by African women. Mrs Thomas J. Jackson was tall, around six foot and slender as a rake handle.

store fades what her particular deficiency in relation to the dwelling rise was, but I do remember how pink and hot her mouth was as it gobbled up my dick. Her dark centre never left mine as my pinko cock disappeared into her bequeath mouth. I thought it would never halt. She had my whole distance in her mouth and was throat fucking herself on me. She had the live mouthpiece I had every come across, or cum down as a affair of fact. Her nose was squashed against me so that every available in was twitching as deeply as possible. She maintained her stare as her tongue massaged my stopcock and then, just as I gasped I was about to hail, she managed to feel a few more millimeter to squeeze down her red hot esophagus. She showed no sign of swallowing, but it was obvious she had and her osculation of thanks carried that taste of man succus. I had never thought about having a black woman before. Any prejudice I might have carried was blown away by her expert throat action.

After her, any woman was fair plot.

The most memorable though was Sally. All she wanted was a alternative of semblance for her front door. Simple enough and just a thing of juggling the palette of particularize choices.

I sat at her kitchen table on a wooden stool, explaining the process she and her kinsfolk were going to be subjected to when the kitchen was ripped out and her bathroom was totalled. Sally kept her savourless very houseclean and scrupulously tidy. It was one of the enceinte units with three chamber. Her flatcar had the advantage of overlooking the communal garden with a grandstand prospect of the golf stroke park.

We were on a third week of a passing hot June, when even breathing was a trial. Instead of my usual lawsuit and tie, I was dressed casually, in a short sleeved, open air neck shirt and slackness. crack had a pair of bright white hot-pants on and a gingham print blouse, open at the straw man and tied under her breasts exposing her stomach.

I remember, as I sat at the mesa, dribbling on about the penury for her to pack clobber up in the kitchen, thinking that she was possibly the prettiest woman in the unhurt complex. Sally had her dark blond hair tied back in a ponytail. Somehow it just accentuated the breaking ball of her prospicient neck before the collar of her blouse obscured the perspective. I could see the myriad of veins and arteria just under her clear peel and wanted nothing more than to be biting her, just under the ear.

She had one kid, but was hoping for more. Her little girl was about to set about in chief school, but was having a holiday with her Gran in Sussex for a few workweek. Hubby was a saving driver for a tool hire troupe. He didn't make a not bad wage, but they managed.

Her blouse only had two push on it and only one was done up. I tried not to stare at the swell of her bosom that showed between the chess opening of the garment. She didn't make it any easier for me to brush aside those partially enshroud pleasure when she sat at the tabular array opposite me and lend forward.

Sally was slender. Not slim down in anyway, but I guess the chastise term would be cut back. Seeing her disclose belly showed that she had absolutely no extra fat and the flash of her hips was just gross. She had made her eyes up with a little gloss on the upper berth lid and perhaps a fiddling gloss to her back talk. Those lips that were working at forming words, but were saying to my sub-conscious, kiss me.

I suppose I must have gone off track or something because suddenly, Sally touched my arm to fetch me back from whatever fantasy I was wondering around in. I had to apologize and I know I blustered and she laughed. Her laughter lit up her beautiful face and put a sparkle in her eye.

I knew that I wanted her. I knew that I wanted to pretend bed to this gorgeous womanhood and for her to fall the passion. My creative thinker's eye had her naked and trembling in my hands while my back talk went to work on her like some starved vampire.

I don't know why or even what made me ask it, but I blurted out,"Would you like to go swimming ?"

She looked quizzical for a bit, and then smiled as the estimate appealed.

"Yeah, why not ?"

We arranged to get together in ten minutes. I needed to set my squad up for the afternoon and excuse myself for the remainder of the day. In record metre, I had closed up my site-office and had the car running by the time she came down the stairs.

It was insaneness of form. A consummate bit of irrationality, but immediately an appealing idea in the heating system of this flaming June we were suffering. I didn't have a bathing costume and had to buy one on the way to Tooting Beck Lido.

The plaza was rammed, heaving with trunk, all trying to get cool and receive a bit of personal blank space in which to put their towel. Of course, I didn't have one with me, but Sally had thought of that and brought two Bath towels which, as she found me when she left the changing room, were doing a damned fine job of obscuring her curves.

I had managed to fasten two sun seam at the rich end with a bit of tint from the burning sun. Sally placed the towels down and I had my first really good look at her form. She was as near to my idea of paragon as it was potential to be and my tool recognised the lust running amok in my vein. Her short curved into the scissure of her arse and just seemed to be caressing her cheeks and holding them in gait. I was mesmerised.

I had to jump in the water and thankfully ; the coolness shrank the stiffness of my pecker into a achievable condition.

sally swam like a fish. She laughed and relaxed as we splashed and messed around in the puddle. Her laugh was tinkling and a joy to get wind. The pleasance of floating and just being childlike was written all over her beautiful face. I guess I realised that I was in peril of falling in love with this delightful animal, but somehow, I didn't aid. I just wanted her company and if we managed to get horizontal as well, then that would be a bonus.

sortie's costume went virtually see through when she got out of the pool. As she dried her hair the lineation of her pussy was as if she had nothing more than gauze covering it and the darkness of her gloriole was plain to see. The Bikini she wore was ovalbumin, but at that bit, was skin coloured. She stopped rubbing her hair and stared at me staring at her.

"Like what you see ?"It was not a coy question and felt like an invitation.

"Very much so. Sally, you are beautiful ”. It was a simple statement of fact. I though her as gorgeous and telling her felt good.

"Shall we go ?"Sally picked up her matter and headed for the changing elbow room while I went to the men's cabinet room.

Ten minutes later, we were sat in the car with the engine running and the air-conditioning at full blow to make the estrus out of the stifling cockpit.

"Where to milady ?"I asked smiling.

"James, why not orient the car in a focus and see where it leads ?"She said this in a gentlewoman Penelope voice, posh and naught like her pattern spoken language pattern with its John Griffith Chaney dialect. We giggled corresponding children as I headed for the countryside of Surrey and a sealed place where steppingstones crossed the river Mole.

Her hand rested in my lap, fingertips drawing lazy forget me drug through my slacks and inching ever so slowly towards my crotch. My pecker was bent doubled and really uncomfortable. I shifted, trying to ease the discomfort without giving the game away, but Sally was on top of that.

"A bit uncomfortable are you Brad ?"It was a totally unnecessary enquiry, teasing if anything.

"Mm, yes."I tried to rivet on driving.

Suddenly, she had my zip down and had fished my poor dick out of my pant. And then, she was sucking the juice right out of it.

"That is so not fair."I told her, but it made no difference. Sally was on a mission to vacate my Lucille Ball and empty them she did, without spilling a drop. God knows how we didn't end up in a ditch as she slurped my cum down her throat.

Eventually, we arrived at the steppingstones and climbed out of the car, but not before I had managed to get my tool back to its rightful blank space. I had taken her to my favourite billet in the wholly world, near to where I had grown up and very likely, my heart's rightful nursing home. I loved this topographic point and sleep with every column inch of the River over a five mile stretch as it meandered around the invertebrate foot of Box Hill.

well-nigh everyone, who braved the parlous crossing of the hexagonal auction block of concrete, spaced at about a pace across the fast flow river, turned left and headed towards a bridge one-half a international mile away. But I had another small topographic point in mind, along a lilliputian used path, overgrown with Japanese orchidaceous plant and nettles. I knew of a secluded position, under a big beech tree, right on the bank of the river and away from walkers and excursionist. The opposition bank backed onto the lawn of a heavy country planetary house. In all the sentence I had spent in this picayune hideout, I had never seen anyone in the garden.

I had to do a bit of moving weeds out of the way as we headed to my favourite spot. A few minutes later, we sat between the murmur roots of the beech and silently watch the brown river microscope slide by.

I didn't have anything to say and I guess it was the Sami for wisecrack. Words seem incongruous and unnecessary.

She undid the one button of her blouse and shrugged it off. Her hot-pants were following, slipping them over her espadrille shoes until she was completely naked. Unhurriedly, I did the same, struggling to deplumate my feet out of my pant in this unfamiliar sitting position. She had brought the towels which were now dry and laid these out while I folded our garments and put them out of the way, draped over a low wall hanging branch.

Sally, naked, was an absolute visual sensation of beau ideal. I could not see even the smallest blemish on her skin. Her breasts stood out in perfect orbs, nipples pronounced at the freedom they would be unused to. I stared at her, marvelling at her peach and the way the dappled sunlight, coming through the overhanging leafage of the Beech, played on her skin. I was in awe, too mesmerised to put two rational number thoughts together in a string.

"Brad, will you do something for bed's sake, before I burst ?"She had knelt between my feet facing me.

I grinned at her willingness and looked into her centre, feeling like I would swim in them forever and die a glad man. She grasped my deal, turned it palm upwards and then guided it to her sex. She spread her knees a trivial to allow my fingerbreadth to brush against her folds and enter her body. Her hotness was incredible as was her wetness. I slowly finger fucked her, brushing my thumb against her clit as one and then two digit delved into her.

crack's top dog tilted back, her oral cavity loose and her deal clasped behind her back in a classic submissive pose. My finger hooked and began to massage her G bit while I continued to drink her trunk in through my eye. Her tits just had to be touched. Without missing a beat with my busy left hired hand, I caressed her breast, cupping it as if taking its weight. Slow flier strokes brought her pap to hardness with goose pimpled aura. I had to pinch it, not too hard, just enough to convey a gasp from between her split lips.

Sally shuddered and gasped as she came over my fingers.

"Oh my god."She sighed,"I've never done it in the open before."She reached down and grabbed my wrist, drawing my fingerbreadth from her snatch. I didn't know what she intended so was inclined to just wait and see where she was going.

Sally turned sideways on so her leftover side was facing me, but still kneeling. She grabbed my hand and again, guided it to her hillock. She run forward a little and gasped,"Use the other hand."

My left was entering her eubstance once again while my right field was cupping the peachy softness of her arse, stroking and kneading her flexible flesh.

"Put it inside me please ?"She was trembling, in anticipation I guessed, as I slid my fingers under her bottom to join those of my early manus. I pushed a digit in so that both hand were now massaging her walls. I thought that was what she wanted, but I was wrong.

"Not there. Back a bit."She hissed. The cent dropped.

Carefully and using the slick lubrication of her sex, I pushed a finger into her arse. The place was uncomfortable for me and somehow, I managed to bestow my legs underneath me so that I could get closer to her and change the angle. I had it just right after a bit of manoeuvring. wisecrack sat down on my finger so that I was supporting her between the two sets of digits that played in her golf hole. The thin membrane between arse and pair of virginals did nothing to mask the clasp her brawn had and the growing rut she exuded.

She grabbed my putz, Thomas More for bread and butter and to save her proportionality I thought. Her grasp was getting nasty and nasty as her second orgasm built to a crescendo. I had got into a rhythm method of birth control of swipe fingers, massaging both canals and plunging up and down.

Sally was almost standing now. Her feet were on the soil, her articulatio genus bent and spread wide. I had most of her system of weights balanced between my questing hands. She had one hand gripping my cock while the early supported her with her medallion flat on the bole of the Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree. She was gasping in metre with my thrusting finger's breadth and her groan became louder as her orgasm approached.

"There, oh my God ! Just there."And then, she began to tremble violently all over. Her bent knees could not hold open her up, but my finger and hands took her weight, keeping her in an upright position. Like a wino, she let go of my stopcock and threw her arm around my neck while she shuddered from head to toe.

"Jesus Christ Brad, that was fucking amazing ”. She at last managed to say as my fingers gently eased out of her body. Her knees were still shaky so I put and arm around her waistline and helped her into a sitting position.

"I don't think I have ever cum so hard."She said, her voice a lilliputian husky where she had been gasping for the last twenty dollar bill hour or so."spring me a moment and then it is your turn.

The thought of being buried balls deep inside of her invoke very much. My cock ached from being hard for so long and was still quite purple from her frailty like grip.

"That will be nice."I nuzzled her neck and cupped a breast, savouring her musk and the softness of her skin. The thought that I would love to be doing just this for the rest of my life banged around in my top dog. There was no room for my wife at that very moment.

"Do me in the arse Brad ?"She lent her foreland against my forehead."That is how I like it best."

I didn't get to reply. She turned so that she was virtually sitting on my lap and grabbed my dick to guide it into her rear incoming. My fingers had made the entryway quite slickness, but damned, was she tight. Slowly, she leant back, forcing the head into her sphincter muscle until the pass passed her outer anchor ring of muscle. As soon as her anatomical sphincter allowed for the head, then the rest period slid in with no opposition until I was oceanic abyss in her canal. She was red hot inside, the feeling was just high-flown. Sally set the pace while I helped abide her weight by holding her backside impudence. I couldn't see, but could feel her hand plunging into her cunt, creating a friction against my cock through the thin membrane of her two yap, both stuffed full.

"I won't last long Sally."Already, I could feel the roiling in my ball and my cock was as heavily as it had ever been. It wasn't often I got to bonk an arse ; it wasn't something my wife enjoyed. So, with the tot thrill of being someplace rare and thick inside a beautiful woman, my balls didn't stand much of a chance.

"You going to cum Brad ?"She asked me over her gorgeous shoulder."Are you going to cum in my bum ?"

"Yeah."I managed to gasp. Sally suddenly increased her yard, ramming herself down on my dick and stuffing her fingers into her pussy.

"Tell me Brad. Tell me when. I want to sense it pumping inside me. I want you to fill my gut up with cum and then I'm going to suck you so fucking dry. fall on you cunt. Cum in my fucking dirty arse you bastard."It was the number 1 time Sally had used such language and I guessed it was her way of helping the outgrowth. It did the trick.

Suddenly, I lurched up, driving my cock even deeper into her. She grunted as it bottomed out and then squealed as I yelled that I was cumming.

"I'm cumming in your filthy rotten arse you dirty snatch. I'm going to breed you from the inside out."I have no estimate where these words came from, but being in tune with her, knew that she would enjoy them.

"Argh."She yelled as my peter exploded, sending gallon of pent up spunk, deep into her colon.

And I, in routine, yelled"Fuck !"at the same time as I rammed into her with the final strokes of my climax.

We stayed still for a moment as the glow of a reciprocal sexual climax flowed over us and our breathing began to go under. My tool was still buried mysterious inside of her as she rested with all of her arse in my lap.

"Oh my shtup god !"She took several deep intimation."That was fucking awesome Brad. Thank you."

"No, give thanks you Sally."And I meant it.

She slowly wiggled her bum in my lap and I reached around her to lightly stroke her clitoris. It was a much more languorous love making, not really designed to bring either one of us off, Sir Thomas More of a current of air down as my cock softened inside of her. I could not believe of anything finer than still being attached to her as we calmed down from those dizzy heights.

After a few second and when I eventually left her epithelial duct, we washed ourselves in the river and dried on the sunk towels. It was fourth dimension to head back to realism and the normalcy of our casual lives. Sally dozed all the way home in the car while I relived the conniption and paid automatic rifle attention to driving.

I dropped her off a little way from the blocks of flats. Dusk was setting, it was quite late.

"You going to be okay when you get in ?"I asked, hoping that her married man wouldn't be calling the local hospitals by now and going unrestrained at her being missing.

"It's jimmy's poker night. He won't be in until recently, so no problem."She reached over and brushed my cheek."Brad, I really had a fantastic day. Thanks for taking me swimming and… well, you know."She smiled as a thought passed through her mind."I know you have fucked a few of the mums, but I would prefer that what we did didn't get out. Let's keep it between ourselves. Okay ?"

"I won't say a Good Book Sally. I haven't about anyone else. So how did you bed ?"

"We ladies like to gossip."Her smile broadened."It seems you are quite the Casanova on the quiet."She leant over and kissed me ; her lips parted and tongue exploring mine. All too quickly, she broke the striking and said good night as she closed the car door.

I wish that I could tell you that we repeated our liaison. I wish I could assure you that we continued to bonk and fall in sexual love, but it would not be admittedly. I didn't get to be with Sally again, but every time I saw her, she would smile and often wink at me in conspirital knowledge.

The job continued, gradually catching up to program. I fucked one or two of the alone housewives, but nothing compared to sally and my substance wasn't really in it.

I had to get her sign off an agreement that she was satisfied with the work and quality. I had an appointment and was really looking forward to having an opportunity to be alone with her again. My deflation when I spotted her small girl at home must have been evident on my face, because, as she signed with a brandish at the buns of the document, she said that it was a old only thing ; fantastic and far too grievous to bear been repeated. It boosted my ego a bit to know that it wasn't because I had failed in any way. We men are vain creatures in accuracy .