Outdoor Spring Sex: Sex in the Garden

For me, it is finally springtime, which means it’s time for outdoor spring sex.

Wait, no, I mean, it’s time to set up my garden. That’s what I was trying to do last week, anyway, before the outdoor spring sex.

At the end of the year, I inherited some raised garden beds from a neighbor who moved away. So, I was trying to prepare them for planting, including laying down string and filling up the bed with soil. The result? I spent most of the day bent over in shorts and a long-sleeved sports shirt, hair gathered into a bun.

I might have wiggled my ass at a few passersby, too. That’s how you garden properly, you see.

Well, the new neighbor liked the view, because he came over in the afternoon. “Sure are bent over a lot today,” he teased, standing behind me.

I wiggled my butt again at him. My inner slut cheered at the prospect of outdoor spring sex. I laughed at his innuendo, continuing to dig, arching my back.

“Something worth bending over for,” I teased him. Additionally, I spread out my legs a little more, letting him see that dip in my pelvis between them. My flirtation worked, as I heard an intake of breath behind me. “Yeah, I see,” he muttered. “Could you use a break?”

I looked back at him and then back at my seedlings. I really couldn’t take a break, but at the same time, hot sex is hard to find. So, my answer was to make a game of it. If he could get me to cum before I finished planting, I was his for the evening. If he couldn’t, he would be mine, but I wouldn’t let him cum.

The prospect of outdoor spring sex was too tempting, and he agreed to my terms.

Within moments, his hands were at my shorts, running his palms over the globes of my ass. I pushed back against him, letting him know I enjoyed the feeling. Still, I wanted to get my cabbage seedlings planted. Or at least, that’s what I told myself.

But soon I forgot all about the seedlings, especially as he took off my shorts and knelt behind me, his face pressed against my panties. He took a big whiff before squeezing my asscheeks again, his grip promising me filthy public sex as he enjoyed the feeling of them in his hands.

In the next instant, I felt his tongue through the fabric of my panties. Surprised, I ground back against his tongue. I bit my lip to keep myself from moaning.

When I suggested outdoor spring sex, I expected him to chase after his own orgasm. Instead, he wanted me to cum, meeting my challenge.

That idea really had me soaked.

In addition to my own wetness, his warm tongue moved up and down my cotton fabric, adding his own.

Soon, his fingers tugged my panties down to the side. The heat from his tongue seared into my clit. Despite trying to focus on the garden, I let out a moan. At the same time, I felt more lubricant drip from my pussy. My thighs trembled, trying to keep me upright.

He felt incredible, his tongue working my folds. For a moment, the tip of his tongue pushed into my hole. Then, he moved himself back to my clit, sucking and rubbing. At this point, I had to hold onto the edges of the garden bed, trying to stay upright.

It was a battle of wills: his and mine, and my garden was forgotten with the outdoor spring sex. But which of us won?

You’ll have to call me to find out! 😉

Call Elise 1-877-208-4254