Fruits of the Bush

Four of us shared the rented house. Belinda was the dark horse, Jane the prude, and Christine the computer nerd. According to the girls, I was Melanie the mess. I believe it might have had something to do with the state I usually left the kitchen in, but can’t be sure. We lived as everyone would expect four teenage girls to live. Bras and panties strewn everywhere - mostly mine - pairs of tights hanging over the banister, CDs scattered over the lounge floor ... Whatever the state of the place, the house was homely with that lived-in feel about it. And we were happy.

We each had our little quirks, but didn’t get in each other’s hair or interfere in any way. I’d never taken any notice of Belinda’s peculiar habit of tapping on the lounge wall. I’d always assumed that she was drumming to music or a tune she was quietly humming. Jane would lock herself in her room for hours on end and pretend to be out, and I’d thought she’d just needed her own space from time to time. Christine also had idiosyncrasies, but we all got on well together.

It was only when I happened to be walking through the hall and notice Belinda with her ear pressed to the lounge wall that I thought she was acting strangely. As she tapped on the wall, I slipped into the kitchen before she caught me watching her. I heard her tapping again, a little louder this time. She then wandered through the kitchen, mumbling something about the dustbin, and went out to the back garden. Wondering what she was up to, I glanced out of the window to see her walk past the dustbin and disappear into the bushes at the end of the garden.

I’d been standing at the sink doing the washing up for about fifteen minutes when she emerged from the bushes and ambled back to the house. Her blue eyes frowned at me as she entered the kitchen. To see me washing up was obviously something she found not only uncharacteristic but also disturbing. Moving to the door, she turned and gazed at me. It occurred to me that she might have thought I was washing up as a ploy to stand at the window and spy on her. I flashed her an innocent smile and she finally tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder and went upstairs to her room.

Intrigued, I wiped my hands on the towel and wandered down the garden. There was nothing there, other than weeds and decaying leaves in a small clearing behind the bushes. I couldn’t for the life of me think what she’d been up to. She’d not had her mobile with her, so she hadn’t been making a private phone call. Besides, she could have done that in her room.

My intrigue grew until I became obsessed with Belinda’s clandestine activities. I watched her for a week or so, the wall tapping in the lounge followed by fifteen minutes hiding in the bushes. I’d been into the small clearing again and again, but had found nothing. I’d looked out of my bedroom window in an effort to see what she was up to, but the thick foliage completely shrouded her.

One afternoon while she was at work, I had an idea. Tapping on the wall, exactly as she’d done, I raced down the garden and slipped into the clearing. I didn’t know what I was waiting for, what to expect, as I looked about me. She couldn’t have been meeting anyone there, not unless they’d openly walked down our garden. I was becoming incensed over Belinda’s damned secret, and was determined to discover what she’d been up to. Birds were singing, the summer sun shining, a lawnmower whirring in the distance ... A perfectly normal afternoon in a quiet suburb. What the hell was going on?

As I was about to return to the house, I heard a shuffling sound followed by a dull thud. Glancing at our neighbour’s shed, I couldn’t believe the sight that met my wide eyes. An erect penis was poking through a hole in the shed. Staring open-mouthed at the veined shaft, the swollen knob, I froze. The shaft twitched expectantly as I gazed in disbelief at the organ. It obviously belonged to the man next door, the wall tapping signaling that Belinda wanted ... But he’s married, I reflected naively. Surely he wouldn’t... Almost in a state of shock, I didn’t know what to think.

Moving the branches aside and peering through the mass of leaves, I gazed at our house. The last thing I wanted was to be caught lurking in the bushes with an erect penis to hand. But I was safe enough. Belinda wasn’t due home from work for a while and I reckoned that Jane and Christine were in their rooms. It was best to creep back to the house and try to forget the sordid incident, I concluded. What Belinda did was her business. If she had something going on with the married man next door, it was nothing to do with me.

Gazing at the penis again, I had an overwhelming urge to touch it. If I did succumb to my inner desires and stroke the magnificent specimen, the man would think it was Belinda. Glancing through the bushes at the house again, I realized that I could do what I liked and get away with it. No one would know what I’d done, I ruminated, my panties wetting as I thought of bringing out the man’s sperm. I was between boyfriends and hadn’t had the pleasure of playing with a rock-hard dick for several weeks. And I’d never had the pleasure of such a huge cock. The thing was monstrous, absolutely immense. There was no point in letting an opportunity like this slip through my fingers.

Tentatively reaching out, I stroked the silky-smooth crown. The organ twitched, the knob swelling as I ran my fingertip over the small slit. My mind awash with wicked thoughts, I wondered what to do with the waiting organ. What did Belinda do? Wank it? Suck it? Gripping the warm shaft, I moved my hand up and down, running the foreskin back and forth over the swollen knob. If I wasn’t careful, the man would realize that it wasn’t Belinda’s sensual touch. There again, when they met face to face rather than face to cock, she’d say that she’d been at work and someone else must have been lurking in the bushes.

But there’d be no telling who it was. Belinda would have her suspicions, of course. She’d no doubt rule out Jane the prude and be in two minds about Christine. She’d probably come to the conclusion that I was the secret cock fiddler, but there’d be no proof. My stomach somersaulting as I stroked the velveteen glans, my feminine desires finally got the better of me.

Kneeling on the ground, licking the beautiful glans, running my tongue around the rim of the helmet, I felt my womb contract. The taste was heavenly, aphrodisiacal. I’d always prided myself on my ability to pleasure a man’s cock with my tongue. I knew just where to lick, just when to suck hard, and when ease off to prolong the pleasure. I’d keep the organ teetering on the verge of orgasm, knead the heavy balls and lick the veined shaft until he was desperate to come and I was desperate for spunk.

Kneeling before the monstrous organ, I parted my lips and sucked the purple knob into my wet mouth. Savouring the taste of the salty glans, the feel of the silky-smooth surface between my lips aroused me no end. Using my tongue, I probed the knob-slit, explored the rim and licked the beautiful sex-globe. Moving my head back and forth, repeatedly taking the bulbous knob to the back of my throat, I felt decadent in the extreme. This was my secret, I mused as I sucked and licked the solid plum. Mouth-fucking myself on a stranger’s cock, desperate to drink his gushing spunk… Some would say that I was a slut, a dirty whore. But this was my wicked secret.

Slipping the swollen globe out of my mouth, I licked the sperm-slit, trying to push the tip of my tongue into the small aperture. My saliva running down my chin as I gobbled and mouthed on the solid glans, I knew that I’d found my sexual heaven. Suckling like a babe at the beasts, I caressed the bulbous dome, licking, mouthing, gobbling, teasing … This was sheer sexual bliss.

Fully retracting the fleshy foreskin, I sucked the ballooning crown into my mouth again. My clitoris swelling, my panties soaked with my juices of desire, I felt lustfully wicked. I could do exactly what I liked with the organ. Wank it, lick it, suck it ... Imagining hauling my tits out and wanking the solid cock, spraying my breasts and ripe nipples with fresh spunk, I felt a quiver run up my spine. I needed to come as never before.

My arousal soaring to frightening heights, I was about to slip my wet panties down and run the purple-headed cock up and down my drenched sex crack when a low moan emanated from the shed. Sperm gushing from the throbbing glans, bathing my tongue, filling my cheeks, bubbling from my gobbling mouth, I repeatedly swallowed hard. I fervently sucked, drinking the flood of salty sperm as my yearning clitoris pulsated in anticipation. Once back in my room, I’d have to massage my pleasure bud to orgasm, I knew as I sucked the last of the sperm out of the twitching cock. Torrents of girl-juice streaming between my swollen pussy lips and soaking into my panties, I desperately needed to come.

The snake-like organ finally deflating as I slipped the glistening knob out of my spermed mouth, I sat back on my heels. Watching the saliva-wet shaft hang limply over the wooden planking of the shed, I focused on a globule of sperm as it emerged from the knob-slit and hung in a long white strand. I moved forward and was about to lap it up when the spent penis retreated into the hole and disappeared. That was it, I thought sadly. My prize had gone. Before the man had time to spy through the hole, I leaped to my feet and scurried back to the house.

Praying that no one had seen me, my heart racing, my hands trembling, I dived into the kitchen. The taste of sperm lingering on my lips, I pondered on Belinda’s naughty secret. How long had it been going on? When had she met the man next door? And what had given them the idea of drilling a hole in the shed? Perhaps he slipped his finger though the hole and massaged her clitty? She might even press her young breast against the hole, her erect nipple inviting the man’s mouth. Now there was an idea. I couldn’t wait for Belinda to get home. I wanted to tell her that I knew what she’d been up to. I’d have loved to have seen the expression on her pretty face, but daren’t let on that I knew her dark secret.

Jane and Christine were in the lounge, and I decided to slip up to my room and appease my yearning clitoris. Closing and locking my bedroom door, I slipped my wet panties off and lay on the bed. Parting my thighs, I ran my finger up and down my well-juiced girl slit, my naked body trembling as my clitoris swelled. Breathing deeply, I fingered my cunny hole, massaged the sensitive tip of my sex nodule. My pleasure heightening as I recalled sucking the sperm out of the man’s solid knob, I could hardly wait to suck him off again. Would I have the opportunity to swallow his sperm again? I pondered as my womb rhythmically contracted and my lust juices gushed from the tightening sheath of my hot vagina.

“God,” I breathed, massaging my clitoris faster as my orgasm suddenly erupted. Never before had I come so quickly. My almost painfully erect clitoris pulsating wildly, sending intense shockwaves of ecstasy deep into my pelvis, I arched my back. On and on my climax rolled, taking me higher to my sexual heaven as the wet duct of my cunt tightened. I needed a cock, I knew as I again thought of sucking the sperm from the man’s orgasming knob. I needed a huge cock fucking my tight little cunt. My pleasure peaking as I rode the crest of my mind-blowing orgasm, I desperately needed the man’s huge cock in my cunt, fucking me, spunking me.

My hand falling by my side as my orgasm finally receded, I lay trembling uncontrollably on the bed. My sex juices oozing from my burning vaginal sheath and running down between my firm buttocks, I slipped my hand beneath my thigh. Teasing the puckered eye of my bottom-hole, probing my hot rectal duct, I gasped and writhed as my clitoris fluttered, sending ripples of sex through my quivering body. I was about to masturbate again, take myself to another mind-blowing orgasm, when I heard the front door slam shut. Leaping off the bed, I composed myself as best I could and went down stairs. I’d masturbate again later, I promised myself, realizing that I wasn’t wearing panties.

Finding Belinda in the kitchen, I tried to come across as normal. But I couldn’t help picturing her kneeling behind the bushes with the man’s cock sperming in her mouth. As she chatted about her day, I focused on her full red lips, imagining our neighbour’s purple knob bloating her pretty mouth, shooting sperm down her throat. Did she bend over and slip his penis into her pussy? I wondered in my rising excitement. It would be somewhat awkward to fuck a penis that was sticking through a hole in a shed, but possible.

Watching her like a hawk that evening, I grinned when she discreetly tapped on the lounge wall. As she went down the garden and slipped into the bushes, I had it in mind to spy on her. I was going to creep across the lawn and peer through the foliage but, to my disappointment, she headed back to the house after only a few minutes. I dashed into the lounge and sat on the sofa, chatting to Christine in an effort to appear innocent.

Belinda walked into the room, her frowning eyes darting between Christine and me as we looked up at her. The man in the shed had obviously whispered something about the afternoon sucking session and she’d informed him that she’d been at work all day. She’d have guessed that one of us had impersonated her in the bushes. But there was nothing she could say, other than ask who had been drinking sperm from our adulterous neighbour’s cock. I doubted very much that she’d come out with such a question.

She spent the evening stomping around the house, obviously seething with anger and wondering as to the identity of the secret cock sucker. I didn’t know what she had to complain about. She didn’t own the man. After all, he was married. His wife was in her early twenties and, although a little shy, extremely attractive. She was building a home with her husband and probably planning to have children. To think that she was in the house while he was sticking his cock through a hole in the shed wall and having his knob sucked ... I felt sorry for his wife. But I was as guilty as Belinda.

The following day, after Belinda had gone to work, temptation outweighed my pity for the man’s wife and I tapped on the wall. He now knew that there was an impersonator on the loose. He was well aware that there was another female mouth thirsty for his cock. Knowing that Belinda was out, would he creep down the garden to his shed? Did he really care whether it was Belinda’s mouth or someone else’s he was sticking his knob into? He was happy enough to cheat on his wife, so why not Belinda?

I must admit to feeling a little guilty as I waited in the bushes. The man was betraying his wife, and I was aiding and abetting his infidelity. Wondering whether to return to the house and leave Belinda and the adulterer to their wicked ways, I grinned as his erect penis slipped through the hole in the shed. His knob-slit seemed to smile at me, beckoning me as I gazed at the inviting purple globe. He wouldn’t tell Belinda that one of her friends had sucked him off again. He’d lie to her, as he’d lied to his wife.

Gazing at the solid shaft of his penis, the glistening purple crown, I knelt on the ground. Weak in my arousal, I couldn’t help myself as I took the bulbous globe of his cock deep into my thirsty mouth. Tonguing his sperm-slit, breathing heavily through my nose, I mouthed and sucked the magnificent organ. Moving my head back and forth, my taut lips rolling along his solid shaft, I gently mouth-fucked myself.

Again, desperate for the taste of fresh sperm, I worked expertly on his beautiful globe. He was a very lucky man, I mused. With two young girls desperate for his cock, all he had to do was slip down to the shed and mouth-fuck and spunk until he’d satisfied himself. Taking his swollen knob to the back of my throat, I realized that I was a very lucky girl. No strings, no relationship arguments or jealousy… Just a beautiful cock to suck whenever I felt the need for spunk.

Low moans emanating from the shed, I knew that his full balls were ready to drain. The slurping sounds of cock sucking resounding around the bushes, I felt a gush of girl-juice fill my panties as my mouth flooded with warm sperm. Swallowing hard, I wanked the rock-hard shaft, bringing out the man’s orgasmic cream to the accompaniment of his stifled gasps of pleasure. His spunk dribbling down my chin, I sucked and mouthed on his orgasming knob for all I was worth. The lubricious cream hanging between my tongue and his glistening knob-slit, I savoured the aphrodisiacal taste, delighting in my oral games until the flow of semen finally stemmed.

Toying with the spent organ, licking the flaccid shaft, lapping up the spilled sperm, I prayed for him to re-stiffen. I had to have his cock inside me, fucking my tight cunt, sperming my cervix. Never had I been so desperate for a hard fuck. I felt wicked in the extreme as I mouthed and sucked, licked and gobbled. There was no embarrassment, no words… Just cold, raw sex. To my great delight, the sleeping monster awoke, the shaft inflating, the purple globe ballooning. It was ready.

Tugging my cunny-wet panties down, I was never one to miss an opportunity. After all, it wasn’t every day that a massive cock reared its beautiful head. Standing, I lifted my skirt up and grabbed the solid cock by the root. My hands trembling, I ran the bulb of his glans up and down my drenched pussy slit, massaging my inner folds, caressing my drenched valley of desire. My clitoris responded, pulsating delightfully as his ballooning cock-head teased the sensitive tip. Leaning against the shed to steady my trembling body, I became oblivious to my surroundings as I sank into a warm pool of illicit sex.

“God,” I breathed, pressing his silky knob between the softness of my dripping inner lips and taking his solid shaft deep into my aching cunt. Gyrating my hips, massaging my inner pussy flesh with his huge glans, I listened to the gasps of pleasure emanating from the shed. The sound of my squelching juices of arousal filled the air as I fucked the beautiful cock. Massaging my yearning clitoris, I stifled my cries of sexual bliss as the birth of my orgasm stirred deep within my contracting womb.

The gush of sperm coinciding with the explosion of ecstasy within my pulsating clitoris, I clung to the side of the shed as my legs sagged. The sheath of my cunt gripping the pistoning organ, a cocktail of girl juice and sperm sprayed from my bloated sex cavern, splattering my inner thighs as I rocked my hips. Digging my fingernails into the wooden planking of the shed, I gasped as my pleasure peaked. Again and again tremors of orgasm ripped through my tingling body, reaching every nerve ending, tightening every muscle until I finally collapsed to the ground in a convulsing heap.

I had to make my escape before the man spied through the hole. Crawling out of the bushes, sperm and girl juice oozing from the entrance to my burning cunt, I clambered to my feet and staggered towards the house. Dragging my panties up my trembling legs as I crossed the lawn, I crashed through the back door and almost fell into the kitchen. Thanking God that there was no one around, I leaned against the kitchen sink until I’d recovered from one of the best orgasms I’d ever experienced.

I’d always derived great pleasure from my bottom-hole, and couldn’t stop imagining the huge cock entering me there. The thought was wicked, I knew. But I’d never had my bum shafted. My previous boyfriend had shunned the idea, not even fingering my anus to satisfy my naughty yearning. I had to substitute a lovely cock with candles or deodorant bottles. I’d fuck my bottom with anything that resembled a stiff cock.

The next day, I greased my anus liberally with baby oil. Determined to have my bum fucked, I tapped on the wall and skipped down the garden to the bushes. Within minutes, my hidden lover slipped his erect penis through the hole. No licking, no sucking or mouthing… I wanted him up my bum. Lowering my panties and bending over, I backed onto the organ. Reaching behind my bum and grabbing the shaft by the base, I pressed the swollen plum hard against the delicate dark tissue surrounding my secret love-hole. Suddenly, the crown of his cock slipped past my well-greased anal sphincter and drove into my hot rectal tube.

The sensation of his cock stretching my anal canal was heavenly. I could feel his bulbous knob deep inside my bowels. This was what I loved, this was truly my sexual heaven. Swaying back and forth, fucking my tight bottom with his magnificent sex-rod, I slipped two fingers into the neglected sheath of my hungry cunt and massaged the creamy walls of my pleasure duct. I could feel my tight ring rolling back and forth along his veined shaft as I fucked and fingered myself.

His spunk came all too quickly. Gushing into my rectum, lubricating the illicit pistoning of my tight little arse, the orgasmic cream flooded my hot bowels as I swayed on my trembling legs. My clitoris exploding in orgasm as sperm dribbled from the seething cavern of my anal sheath, I massaged my pleasure bud with my cunny-wet fingers and let out whimpers of sexual satisfaction. Never had I experienced such immense pleasure. My rectal tube almost splitting open, my bowels flooded with cooling sperm, I massaged my cumbud and sustained my multiple orgasm.

Crying out in my ecstasy, the sounds of crude sex reverberating around the small clearing, I continued to arse-fuck myself on the huge cock until the shaft began to deflate and shrink inside me. Shuddering, gasping in the aftermath of my anal fucking, I finally staggered away from the shed. The cock leaving my spunk-brimming rectum, I again managed to yank my panties up my trembling legs and head back to the house.

In my room, I lay on my bed with sperm oozing from my sore anus. Quivering uncontrollably, my head dizzy from the crude fucking, I knew that I’d return to the bushes for another anal shafting. I couldn’t deny myself the pleasure of a huge cock deep-rooting my tight bum. I couldn’t deny myself the pleasure of having my hot bowels flooded with gooey spunk.

The weeks passed and I was more than happy with my share of our neighbour’s cock. Belinda seemed happier, and I knew that she wasn’t going without a good shafting. She either didn’t know about the man’s double adultery or didn’t care. But she did seem a little apprehensive when she said her goodbyes and left the house to stay with her parents for a couple of weeks. Determined to make the most of the adulterous penis while Belinda was out of the way, I regularly skipped down the garden to the bushes.

When the doorbell rang one evening, I was surprised to find the man’s wife standing on the step. Her hair was disheveled, her pretty face flushed, her eyes red. Had she discovered her husband’s adultery? I wondered fearfully. Announcing that she was going away, she asked whether we’d keep an eye on her house. A wave of relief rolled through me as I readily agreed. Christine said that she’d be happy to keep watch over the place and Jane even offered to water the garden. As the betrayed wife walked down the path to a waiting taxi, I wondered where her husband was.

“One of you might want to borrow these,” she called, placing a pair of scissors on the gatepost. “You might need to use them in your garden.” Jane fetched the scissors and handed them to me as the taxi drove off. Back in the lounge, we talked about the weird episode, wondering why the girl had lent us a pair of scissors. It occurred to me that she’d discovered what was going on and thought the culprit might want to cut her husband’s penis off. A woman scorned?

As I went out to the kitchen to make some coffee, Christine followed me. I felt that she was keeping an eye on me as I filled the kettle. When Jane wandered into the kitchen, I was very much aware of a feeling of awkwardness among us. Opening the backdoor, Christine wandered down the garden and hovered by the bushes. When she returned, she looked worried. Jane then announced that she was going to get her washing off the line and went out to the garden. When she came back a couple of minutes later, minus washing, we all sat in the lounge and sipped our coffee in silence.

Something was going on, but I couldn’t think what. The girl next door had done something in the bushes, I concluded. Had she discovered the truth behind her husband’s frequent trips to the shed and blocked the hole up? Perhaps she’d worked out what was going on and had tapped on the wall while he wasn’t looking. She might have waited until he’d gone into the shed and then crept into our garden to catch him red-cocked. But what on earth were the scissors for?

Leaving the girls in the lounge, I took a trip down the garden. Moving close to the bushes, I saw the man’s penis sticking through the hole in the shed. There was a length of string held with sticky tape around the base of his limp cock. The string was taut, the other end tied to a branch of a bush. That explains the scissors, I mused as I returned to the house. With his wife and Belinda away, it was down to me to cut him loose.
“I don’t need these,” Jane said, holding up the scissors as I closed the back door.
“I don’t need them, either,” Christine rejoined. “What would I do with a pair of scissors in the garden?”
“Have you any use for them?” Jane asked me. I shook my head negatively as she tossed them into the bin. “I think we’ll leave the gardening to Belinda.”

“She loves pottering around out there,” Christine smiled. “What with the rain we had this morning, weeds and things will be thrusting up everywhere. She’ll have quite a lot to do when she gets back next week. Shall we go out for a drink?”

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