roses garden

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roses garden Page 3

by Desconhecido(a)


  He was younger than me by a few years, but what did that matter? I didn’t look my age; I was naturally slim and petite. My breasts were still firm and at least my hair was styled again! I revelled in my feminine charms; I had been ignored for so long that it felt wonderful to finally be appreciated once more.

  “Well…err…if you’re sure?” I said, licking my lips nervously. I could see Henry stalking a bird out of the corner of my eye and I fervently hoped it had seen him. I felt a little like that bird - helpless and easy prey.

  “I’m sure.” Ryan smiled. He tucked his hands into his faded jeans and headed back round the front of the house. I followed meekly, wondering just what the hell I had agreed to.

  * * * *

  Ryan turned up late one afternoon, two days later. I had spent all day outside, enjoying the warmth and clearing a sizable chunk of ground. I had been delighted to discover some of the old herb plants my mother had grown. They had been largely overrun by the more tenacious weeds, but given some TLC; there was a good chance they could be encouraged to prosper again.

  I was miles away when I heard the gate bang against the side of the house. Pushing my unruly hair back into my bobble, I rubbed my face just in time to see Ryan walking down the crazy paving path, a big smile on his handsome face.

  “Hey, how’s it going?” he asked cheerfully, taking in my dishevelled state.

  “Oh, not too bad!” I grinned, kneeling in the dirt. “I’m getting there slowly.”

  “Indeed you are,” he commented lightly.

  I stood up, my back aching slightly. I was startled when he reached out and rubbed my cheek with his thumb. For an endless moment, his face was inches away from mine and I could smell the faint odour of aftershave.

  “Mud,” he said by way of explanation. I barely heard him; my heart was thudding so loudly in my chest. “Right then, I’ll go and get some gloves on and make a start on clearing those docks down the side there. Okay?”

  It took a minute for me to register that he had spoken. All I could think about was the feel of his thumb on my face. My mind was running in overtime and playing an endless reel of erotic images to tantalise me.

  Hellfire, I thought crossly. I’m acting like a teenager with a crush! Get a grip!

  “Yeah that’ll be great. I’m going to make a drink - would you like one?” The question came out in a rush. I knew I needed to put some distance between Ryan and me. Maybe then I would actually be able to think straight?

  “Yes that would be lovely, Mrs. Elliott.”

  “Rose, call me Rose please.”

  “Okay, Rose. Lovely name - it suits you.” A flash of a smile again and he turned away to go and fetch his tools.

  I disappeared inside, catching a glimpse of my flushed face in the small mirror on the kitchen wall. It was ridiculous I tried to tell myself. The man couldn’t be flirting - he was just being nice. But I wasn’t so sure…

  The kettle boiled and I manage to control my feverish urges long enough to make two cups of tea. Ryan took his with a brief, “Thanks” and I went back to my painstaking clearing of the herb garden.

  Neither of us said a word for the next couple of hours although I spent way too much time ogling Ryan; especially when he removed his t-shirt and I was forced to look at his muscular torso. This was pure hell on my good intentions and I tried to concentrate on the job on hand with very little success.

  Henry watched from his vantage point on the fence. He seemed a little perturbed at the presence of another person in the garden, but eventually he jumped down and sidled over to Ryan, his tail high in greeting. Somewhat amused, I watched as my man-hating cat rubbed himself against Ryan’s legs, purring loudly.

  Phil had hated the cat with a passion. They had never seen eye to eye and Henry had frequently scratched him for no real reason other than bad temper. The cat had good taste in men it seemed; maybe I should have taken more notice. Henry obviously thought Ryan was worthy of his affection because he plonked himself nearby and watched curiously as Ryan dug up the mutant weeds.

  When the sun dipped low on the horizon, Ryan stopped working and leant on the fork before saying, “I’m gonna have to call it a day, I’m afraid. I have a football match later and I need to go home first.”

  “Sure, that’s fine. It’s good of you to come at all!” I couldn’t believe how much he had achieved in such a short space of time. It would have taken me weeks to clear all that.

  He picked up his t-shirt and put it back on, much to my disappointment. “I’ll be back on Friday afternoon to do the trees, if that’s okay?”

  “That’s fine. I’ll be here.” I replied, shading my eyes against the setting sun.

  Ryan reached down and rubbed Henry’s neck affectionately. “Nice cat,” he said. “I love cats.”

  “You’re unusual then - most men dislike cats.” I was thinking of Phil when I said this, but the truth was most men I knew were not fond of cats. They seemed to prefer dogs - more manly apparently.

  “Well I’m not like most men!” He winked at me cheekily. Then he was gone, leaving me standing in a shadow as the sun dropped beyond the trees. I shivered a little - and not entirely from the chill.

  “Okay Henry, time for a bath and food.” Henry looked at me unblinkingly before trotting inside, his tail flicking from side to side. I heard the faint sound of Ryan’s pick-up disappearing down the street and sighing heavily, I plodded upstairs to run a hot bath. As the water sputtered out from the ancient taps, I couldn’t help thinking wryly that perhaps a cold shower would have been more appropriate, given my over excited libido.

  Chapter 4

  As promised, Ryan turned up on Friday to trim the trees. This time however he wasn’t alone. A heavy-set man called Mick accompanied him and Ryan was all polite and businesslike. I began to think I had imagined the spark of attraction between us and I was shocked to discover how disappointed I felt.

  Maybe it was a good thing I tried to persuade myself as I pulled up recalcitrant weeds viciously. It would not exactly look good if I were to be seen entertaining a man friend whilst in the throes of divorcing my husband. Phil would jump on this and probably use it against me.

  “Who needs men anyway? Not me,” I hissed, throwing another dandelion into my bucket savagely.

  The wood chipper burst into life and my thoughts were drowned in a cacophony of harsh noise. Henry had vanished into the house. I soon followed him; I couldn’t stand the sight of Ryan flexing his muscles as he sawed through the thick branches with a chainsaw. It was like walking into a sweet shop and having no money to buy anything - pure masochistic torture.

  Many hours and several cups of tea later, the job was completed. The tools were packed away and I was left with some drastically reduced trees and a huge pile of wood chippings.

  “Thanks for that,” I said politely to Ryan and Mick.

  “No problem,” replied Ryan with a grin. Neanderthal Mick merely grunted in an unintelligible fashion. “I’ll drop the invoice off tomorrow, if that’s okay,” Ryan added with a surreptitious wink while Mick scratched his crotch unattractively.

  I smiled warmly, feeling a shiver of anticipation run like fire through my veins. Now I knew I wasn’t imagining things.

  “That’ll be fine,” I said blandly. “Any time will be okay. I’ll be around in the afternoon.”

  Ryan flicked his gaze down my body before focusing back on my face again. “Cool, I’ll be there.” There was a dark note of promise in the unassuming words and I jumped on it with glee.

  Fortunately Mick was far too engrossed in the detailed excavation of his ear canal to take any notice.

  The men drove away in a cloud of diesel fumes and I was left in a state of heightened arousal. It took me a long time to fall asleep that night and when I finally did, I was plagued by erotic dreams featuring Ryan.

  * * * *

  The humid and sticky air had been oppressive all day. As the afternoon lengthened, the sky grew ever darker, faint rumblings of thunder warnin
g of an impending storm. I flopped around the garden; it was too damned hot to do anything useful. Eventually, I settled in an old garden chair and tried to read a tattered paperback romance novel. Unfortunately, the dashing heroes and fair maidens did nothing for me whatsoever.

  I think I must have read the same paragraph a hundred times - my concentration was shot to pieces. All I could think about was Ryan - his face, his legs, and his bum - everything about him really.

  When the fat spats of rain began to fall, it jolted me out of my soporific state and I suddenly realised that all my washing was hanging on the line (including my bed linen) and it was about to be soaked. I didn’t have a tumble drier here so I was in big trouble if it got drenched.

  Jumping up quickly, I began to pull the clothes and linen hurriedly off the line. There was an almighty crack of thunder and the heavens opened in a tremendous deluge. Within seconds I was soaked to the skin, the rain bouncing merrily off the paving stones. Frantically I dashed down the path, pulling everything off and clutching it to my chest in a vain attempt to prevent it becoming wetter than it already was.

  “Need some help?” yelled a voice at me, barely audible above the sound of crashing thunder. It was Ryan. Without thinking, I thrust the wet washing into his arms and grabbed the rest of the clothes. Water dripped down my face as we dashed into the kitchen and out of the storm.

  “I tried your front door but I got no answer…” His voice trailed off and I stared at him silently. His t-shirt was soaked through, as were his jeans. I looked down at myself and realised that my white shirt was now virtually transparent. My nipples were prominently visible through the fabric and I knew Ryan had noticed.

  My cheeks flamed in embarrassment; this was not how I had envisaged our next meeting. I was intending to be dressed sexily with my hair brushed and lipstick on. Now my hair was plastered to my head in thick coils and my shorts were stuck to my backside. I must have looked a terrible sight.

  Turning away quickly, I stared out at the newly formed lake on my patio. The drain must be blocked, I thought irrelevantly.

  I felt rather than heard him step up behind me. His hands rested on my shoulder and gently pulled the wet hair away from my neck. I froze; my senses were tingling and all my nerves were dancing, awaiting his next move.

  “You need to get out of these wet clothes - you’ll catch your death of a cold.”

  I shivered at his soft words but not from the chill. My body felt feverish and hot. An unfamiliar ache throbbed between my legs and I sucked in a shaky breath before replying, “Yes, I know I’m wet…”

  He chuckled at the double meaning inherent in my statement and turned me slowly around to face him. I dropped my gaze; I couldn’t look at him. I just couldn’t believe that this beautiful man was interested in me. Surely it was a joke and he was going to start laughing any minute - at my expense.

  “Look at me Rose,” Ryan said firmly, tilting my chin upwards with one finger. Reluctantly I returned his gaze. “I can go right now, if this isn’t what you want - just say the word.”

  “I…I don’t know what I want. I’m afraid.” I admitted, feeling ashamed that I was so lacking in self-confidence.

  “You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he reassured me gently. “I won’t hurt you.”

  “But I’m older than you. I’m not beautiful or sexy or-”

  “To me you are all of those things and more!” he interrupted me with a grin. “And so what - you are older than me by a few years. Not a lot I imagine. I am thirty-nine and you can only be about forty one or so?”

  “I am forty five.” I admitted with a sigh.

  “Well you sure as hell don’t look it!”

  I blushed again. “Thanks…”

  Ryan smiled and bent to kiss me, his lips barely touching mine. I felt myself tingling a little; the contact so fleeting it was hardly there. It wasn’t enough and I instantly craved more, so much more.

  I could feel the damp heat of his hard body, pressed urgently against mine. It surprised me slightly that there wasn’t a cloud of steam emanating from between us; my feverish skin felt like it was burning up.

  Our lips meshed together, tongues gently tasting and exploring. My doubts fought for supremacy in my tortured brain, but my body was winning the battle. It had been too damned long and I needed to be loved a little.

  My hands splayed across Ryan’s chest. His nipples were hard little beads though the wet cotton and I brushed over them lightly. He shivered in response and pulled me closer, crushing my hands between our bodies. The edge of the worktop dug into my back, but I didn’t care; all I cared about was the feel of his hard body against mine.

  “Shall we go upstairs?” Ryan asked, reluctantly breaking the kiss.

  I nodded mutely and he took my hand, allowing me to lead the way up the narrow stairs and into my bedroom.

  The rain continued to slam down outside, the room dark enough to feel like night had already arrived. I shivered a little, more from nerves than cold, but Ryan noticed and pulled me between his thighs as he sat on the edge of the mattress. The bed had been stripped and all the sheets lay downstairs in a damp pile. I didn’t care, however; all I cared about was this man.

  Ryan slowly ran his hands up my body. He brushed against the sides of my breasts and I let out an involuntary gasp. It had been so long since any man had touched me and I was like a woman dying of thirst who was unexpectedly offered a drink. I wanted to gulp it down, but I knew I should savour it slowly to fully appreciate it.

  My nipples were hard and aching. Keeping his gaze fixed on my face, Ryan slowly began to unbutton my damp cotton blouse. I could barely breathe, the anticipation of his touch on my naked breasts was excruciating. One by torturous one, he undid the tiny buttons until eventually the blouse slowly parted, revealing my small but firm breasts.

  He slid his hands up my ribs and gently cupped the twin mounds, rubbing his thumbs across my pink crests. I moaned faintly and he smiled before pulling me close and taking a taut tip in his lips, sucking gently.

  “Oh Ryan…” I moaned. My eyes closed as I lost my reason in the hot feel of his mouth on my nipple. Tiny slivers of desire shot down my nerve pathways straight to my clit and I pushed my pelvis into him, seeking relief from the delicious torment.

  His hands crept round my back, gently stroking my bottom through the wet denim of my shorts. The material felt clammy against my heated skin as I pushed into the cradle of his strong thighs. I could feel his fingers deftly undoing the button and the zip of my shorts. Before I was even aware of it, the shorts were tugged down my thighs and they fell to the floor in a wet heap.

  Suddenly I was pleased I had spent so much time in the garden of late - my legs were toned and slim and my body was in as good a shape as it had ever been. I didn’t have the physique of a twenty year old, but I didn’t look half bad.

  My skimpy red knickers clung damply to my body. Teasingly, Ryan traced small patterns on my feverish skin, circling lower and lower, finally dipping between my parted thighs and stroking across my sex. I gasped out loud, my body jerking forward with the stimulation.

  Ryan’s fingers rubbed across the wet gusset of my knickers. My legs trembled involuntarily and I held onto his broad shoulders. His mouth had moved lower and he kissed my belly, licking the salty skin and nibbling a little. I didn’t think I could stand much more of this torment; it was agonising. The need for release was becoming unbearable.

  “Please…” I begged, barely coherent.

  “Please what?” Ryan asked teasingly.

  “I need…” I paused; it was so damned difficult to say the words. “I need you to touch me…” I gasped as he brushed over my clit and rubbed little harder. Oh god! I knew I was going to cum if he carried on touching me like this.

  He slipped my knickers down my thighs and paused for a moment, just kissing my stomach. Then he dipped his fingers into the honeyed cleft of my pussy, parting my lips and sliding inside me. It had been so long that I cried out with pleas
ure as soon as he invaded my tight channel.

  He rubbed my clit, his fingers wet with my juices, the pressure building as I squirmed between his thighs. I couldn’t imagine how he must be feeling. All I knew was that I didn’t want him to stop. I could feel my orgasm gaining momentum, the pleasure spiking higher and higher. I buried my face in his hair and he relentlessly increased the pressure and speed, responding to my moans and movements against him.

  Then it happened. I exploded into shards of light and colour; my whole body wiped out in a rush of rapturous bliss. For a few seconds I was oblivious to everything, then gradually, slowly, I came down from my high and realised to my horror what I had just done.

  I had let a man touch me - a man whom I hardly knew. I felt ashamed even though my body was humming pleasurably in the afterglow of an amazing orgasm. It was so unlike me. My husband had been the only man I had been with in a quarter of a century. God, what must Ryan think of me?

  I tried to turn away; I couldn’t look at him, I felt so bad. He must have sensed it because he pulled me back and forced me to look at his face.

  “Hey,” he said gently. “It’s okay. I promised I wouldn’t hurt you didn’t I? Trust me…”

  I dared myself to look at him properly. His blue eyes gazed into my soul, dispelling my fears and reassuring my heart that he wasn’t going to use me and cast me aside. Slowly my doubts faded and I ventured a weak smile.

  “Thank you.” I said simply. It seemed an inadequate token of my gratitude when he had just given me the best sex I had ever had.

  “No - I need to thank you for allowing me to be here.” He smiled and pulled me down for a kiss. I could feel my desire catching alight again, a tiny bush fire just needing a slight wind to waft it into an inferno. The flames licked through my body and I kissed him hungrily.

 

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