She loved her greenhouse in the fall. As the garden slowed down she could daydream about all her projects for next year. Surrounded by the lush, tender plants that couldn’t survive a winter outside, she worked in a T-Shirt, leggings, and wellies. Her hands covered in soil, seed trays organized and waiting for her to grow the plants that would blossom in the spring.
As she wiped away a trickle of sweat rolling down her temple she didn’t notice the crunch of steps on the pea gravel walkway. She was still sorting through packets of sweet peas when she smelled him. The mint and musk scent brought a smile to her face, but she didn’t turn around to face him. Instead she bent over a bit more, displaying her round ass to best advantage. She heard a short pause in his gait as he entered the warm greenhouse, and knew he liked what he saw.
“Hello, Minxy,” he whispered in her ear as he ran his hands over her hips. “Miss me?”
“Always, Spicy,” she answered while enjoying the feeling of his hard cock as she ground against him.
He nipped at her earlobe in response, and she heard his belt being unbuckled. She looked down at her filthy hands, frustrated that she couldn’t touch him as she wanted. Then he chuckled.
“No touching for you, Minxy.”
She heard his trousers being kicked away and almost whimpered in anticipation. Another raised eyebrow from the drycleaner was in their future. But she knew better than to touch him with her hands when he said to not. Spicy was in charge tonight. With every beat of her heart her pussy clenched and more slick dampened her leggings. Finally, she felt his fingers enter her waistband.
*How can he stand going so slow?* she thought. But a high-pitched “please” was all that she uttered out loud.
“Please what?” he asked as he lowered her leggings and gripped her hips.
“I need you, please!”
“Need me to what?” he asked, now running the head of his cock through her folds. Clit to ass and back again.
“Fuck me,” she answered while attempting to capture the head of his cock in her grasping pussy.
“Have you been thinking about this all day too?” He started shallow, slow dips into her.
In response she leaned back, his chest to her back, and turned her face to kiss him and make moans of affirmation. He started fucking her deep, still slow and deliberate. As he sped up his hands slid under her shirt, over her belly, and up to her tits. Much more than a handful each, he held her by them. Pinching and teasing her nipples as his pace became frantic. Words lost meaning. They communicated through touch, groans, and growling now. He always touched a trigger inside of her in this position, as he well knew. Her legs started shaking and he took more of her weight as they started to give way.
“Hold the shelf,” he growled. As she grasped the shelf he let go of her tits. One hand on her hip, the other pulling her ponytail, but both grips bruising.
Her whines and groans had no end now. Just one continuous sound of pleasure punctuated by his harsh growls. The hand on her hip reached forward, her ponytail still in a deliciously painful grip. His growls continued as he started to strum her clit, but her whines were now interrupted by hitched breaths and incoherent shouts.
“10…”
*Oh fuck,* she thought.
“9…”
Her whining increased.
“8…”
Her pussy clenched his cock.
“7,” he choked out.
“6!” she shouted.
He laughed and continued fucking her, but stopped counting until her whines took over again.
“5…”
His breathing rasped harsher.
“4…”
She was squeezing him rhythmically.
“3…”
So close, so very close.
“2…”
They were both growling like animals now. He nibbled her neck as her held her tits again.
“1.”
They both cried out as they came together, while her pussy milked his convulsing cock. She swore she could feel the ropes of his pearly cum hitting her inside. And they stayed that way, standing locked together as they drifted down from their peaks. Finally, hearts beating normally again, he turned her head and kissed her as he pulled out of her. A mixture of his cum and her slick flowed down her thighs. Then he bent down, nipped an ass cheek, and pulled up her leggings.
As he left the greenhouse, his trousers over one shoulder as he hummed a cheerful tune, she looked at her potting bench trying to remember what she had been doing.
“Sweet peas!” she remembered dazedly.
And as she planted the seeds, instead of daydreaming about espaliered apple trees, she fantasized about riding him on a garden bench while surrounded by the scent of sweet peas.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ra580y/never_able_to_wait_part_one_the_greenhouse_mf