Beyond the Garden

Every Monday and Thursday I drive an hour from my home to work in the garden of my wealthy employer, a handsome adman in his early thirties. For business-purposes I'll just call him Addison. Addison employed me sometime last spring when we met through a professor of one of my classes. I'm 21 and still in school and have a pretty tight schedule, which Addison offered to work around, while promising a pretty penny for my gardening skills.

Since then I've developed somewhat of an infatuation for Addison. Late at night when I'm showering for bed, or lying on the couch downing a glass of cheap red wine, my thoughts often drift to unrealistic fantasies of him having his way with me, hidden in his hydrangeas. My dreams, I know, will never be anything more than dreams, and not just because Addison is happily married. Still, I can't help blushing when I'm pruning his rose bushes and he walks past me, lightly touching my shoulder and thanking me for my "talents" with his garden. He's a very kind man, and very business. Addison rarely wears anything but crisp suits and never has more than a 5 o'clock shadow grazing his firm jaw, though always with a cigarette or, in the evenings, a cigar.

This afternoon began just the same as every day. I arrived at 9 A.M. and found Addison at the kitchen table having egg whites and black coffee. His wife was on her cell phone, still in her long silk nightgown, her dark hair falling down her back. Normally she was dressed in cardigans or silk blouses, but this morning she seemed a bit laid back, chatting aimlessly with a friend, walking in and out of the kitchen, dining room, living room.

"Good morning," Addison greeted me. I blushed and waited for my daily agenda. "I believe the Mrs. had some dahlias delivered yesterday evening after you'd left. She wants them on the east side of the garden, by the lavender."

I set to work through most of the afternoon. It wasn't until about half an hour after lunch that I reached down into my bag of gardening tools and grazed my finger across the shears. When I jerked it back out I saw it was a little deeper than a shallow cut and knew it wouldn't stop bleeding without some doctoring up.

I knew Addison's wife kept a first-aid kit in her upstairs bathroom and made my way up there. I was just down the hall from Addison's study when I heard clamoring from inside the door. It was open ever so slightly and I wondered if someone had hurt themselves. I grabbed some toilet paper and wrapped my finger in it and crept down the hall.

The closer I got the more I could hear. First I heard his wife whispering, then I heard Addison groan a little. When I reached the door I saw him reclined back in the leather chair from his desk and his wife before him on her knees.

My first instinct was to turn and run, leave them to this intimate moment. But the sound of Addison sighing with pleasure kept me very, very still.

Addison's wife was wearing a black corset that wrapped tightly around her midsection and squeezed her ample breasts, pushing them up high. She was wearing matching panties that hardly covered any of her round ass, connected to black thigh-high stockings with a garter. Her wrists were bound together with a pair of glistening silver cuffs and she was leaning over with all of Addison's rock-hard cock in her mouth. Her rouge lips were sliding up and down the shaft and every few seconds she would stop and drag her tongue from the bottom to the very tip of the head and then kiss it passionately, all the while moaning and mewing.

I wanted to leave them, but I wanted to be with them even more. I watched Addison throw his head back and growl with approval. He placed one hand on the back of her head and lifted his own to watch his wife suck hungrily on his throbbing cock. The pants of his suit were down around his ankles, the top half unbuttoned and thrown back from his chest. I could see how rapidly he was breathing, how badly he wanted her and I felt the pang of desire deep down inside of me.

Addison's wife swiveled her head back and forth, side to side, swirling his dick inside her mouth until her spit dripped down the long extent of the shaft. I watched him tense up in his chair and then gently push his wife back away from him. She obediently sat on her knees, like a dog begging for a treat, and watched him cross over behind his desk. When Addison returned he brought with him a black leather whip and a long red dildo.

As he returned, Addison shed the rest of his clothing. Stripped completely bare, I admired the way his muscles rippled as he walked, still in shock of what I was witnessing.

I watched him walk behind her, his wife still staring straight ahead, and grab her hair in his fist, pulling her head back to expose her throat. He traced her long neck and collar bone with the tip of the whip and then, with tremendous force, threw her to the floor. His wife let out a moan as she hit the carpet, but otherwise remained silent as Addison got down on his knees behind her and shimmied her black panties down her supple ass cheeks. For a long moment he knelt there admiring her, running his palm across the bare smoothness of her skin and relishing what was his. He spread her cheeks wide, ran one single fingertip down the extent of her crack and traced the puckered ass hole, groaning with pleasure. His hardened cock throbbed, pointing and alert, as he moved from her ass hole to her pussy.

Addison's wife lifted her hips up to present her freshly wet pussy and ass to her husband. In return he reared his arm back and snapped the whip across her soft flesh. The sound nearly made me jump, and his wife let out a sharp yelp and then moaned. He did it again, this time with even more force, but the opposite way. She pushed her ass out further, cooing with delight. Two bright red slash marks appeared on her skin in the shape of an X. Addison rubbed them with is palms.

Suddenly he bowed his head and buried his face between her ass cheeks. He shook his head to bury his face further, all the while she pushed back against him and cried out with desperate need. I peered closer to see that Addison was pushing his tongue deep into her ass hole. When he surfaced he fumbled with the ribbons of her corset, undoing them as fast as he could. He looked wild, while his wife remained perfectly still, poised as ever.

When Addison had removed the corset he reached for a small silver key on his desk, unfastened her cuffs and tossed the corset aside. As he threw the key and cuffs aside as well, he walked back behind his wife and ordered, "Finger yourself."

My hand immediately slipped down the hem of my jeans. I was soaking wet.

Addison's wife did as she was told, one hand keeping her up in doggy position, the other rubbing her slippery pussy and fingering herself. Addison took a firm stance behind his wife, stroking his cock and watching her for a moment before grabbing the whip and striking her three times across her long, slender back. She cried out, but never stopped fingering her pussy.

He continued to whip her, across the backs of her thighs, her ass, the backs of her calves, until finally he dropped back to his knees, threw the whip across the room, and snatched the dildo up off the floor. Almost angrily, Addison grabbed her hand and removed it from her pussy. She placed it back firmly on the ground and Addison replaced it with the red dildo, spitting onto her hole and shoving it in.

Very slowly, he pushed the dildo in until just the end of it stuck out. His wife was moaning and whimpering, and once it was firmly inside, Addison grabbed his cock and rubbed it against his wife's puckered little ass hole. He slapped her left ass cheek so hard it left a red imprint of each finger. When she cried out he shoved himself hard and deep into her ass.

His wife finally turned to look him in the eye over her shoulder and growled, "Fuck me." He tossed his head back, eyes shut, and moaned gratefully as he began to thrust inside of her.

The scene before me looked so animalistic, so primal. Addison clung to his wife, who was on all fours, by her large breasts and humped methodically, deep, quick thrusts that made her cry out each time. All the while she had to keep herself from toppling over with each thrust.

When it seemed like Addison was about to cum he pulled his dick out of his wife's ass, yanked the dildo from her pussy, and turned her over onto her back. She bent her legs and spread them as wide as she could, her breasts falling back against her, her lipstick smudged across her face.

"Where will I cum on you?" He asked, his voice low and hungry.

"Cum inside of me." She begged.

Addison used his left hand to stick two of his fingers inside of her glistening pussy and then lifted them to her mouth, driving them in between her lips. She sucked on them gratefully, and as she did, Addison began to jack himself off, wiping the juices from her pussy up with his right hand and using it on his cock. Still sucking on his fingers, Addison's wife accepted that her husband would not oblige her wishes, but instead lifted up her chest and offered her breasts, her swollen nipples to him. A few more strokes and Addison exploded his cum all over his wife's stomach, her breasts, and across her lips and chin.

When he finished I backed away from the door. I crept back down the hall to the bathroom, shut the door behind me, and finished myself off.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/1dfkn8/beyond_the_garden