The Garden
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2011 by Celeste Hume

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Penny is a married businesswoman, laid off, out of the corporate grind. She's bored and depressed at her loss in status but tries to do her best at keeping the house in order and saving money where she can. One day she decides she's going to try and grow a garden. A strange noise from the woods behind her home causes her to meet a stranger that changes her life forever.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Cheating   Swinging   Group Sex   Polygamy/Polyamory  

Penny stirred the mixture of grated soap and water in the little saucepan that she had picked up for two dollars for just this project. The bar soap was called Fels Naptha and was advertised as Heavy Duty Laundry Bar Soap. It certainly seemed heavy enough.

The bar was yellowish, wrapped in a relatively plain wrapper with pink stripes and white lettering over a green banner. The whole package had an almost old-timey feel to it. She had grated one third of the huge bar into the waiting saucepan with a dollar-store cheese grater and added six cups of water. Presently she had brought it to a boil and was letting the soap dissolve into the frothy water.

After a few minutes of stirring, she added the half-cup of borax and half-cup of washing soda. Once thoroughly convinced that the mix was completely mixed and dissolved together she would pour it into the bucket where four cups of steaming hot water was waiting. The boiled down mixture, plus the four cups of water would be stirred and mixed until homogenized, then another gallon and six cups cold water added and stirred. The completed mix would sit overnight and form a gel. After that, the two gallons of home-made laundry soap would be doled out half a cup at a time for a total of 64 loads worth of soap.

Penny smiled at the economy of the stuff. The entire batch had cost her seventy seven cents, which divided down to about one and a quarter cents per load.

Eat that Tide, she thought to herself.

She walked through the motions of her exercise in frugality, washed up the pan and grater that she stored in the laundry room, and took the still-warm bucket back there as well. She had another bucket just like it next to the washing machine, and the supplies from her recipe were stored above the dryer in an overhead cabinet. She noted with satisfaction that there was probably a three year supply stored up there.

She leaned against the agitating washing machine and looked out the back door toward the yard. The grass was beginning to green and the maple tree in the back corner looked to be budding out. Spring had arrived.

"April fools to me," she said aloud, having noted that it was April 1st on a nearby wall calendar. "Seven months."

It had been seven months to the day when Penny had been transformed from the most productive but highest paid associate in the consulting firm that she had joined just out of college, to housewife; another statistic of the depleted economy. She smiled bitterly thinking of what she had gone through to push herself up there. From Boardroom Barbie ... er ... Penny, to House-Wife Penny.

Her marriage to Mark had suffered as she had put in long hours, and been so worn out by the time that she got home that the passion they had once shared seemed to take a back seat. Now since she had become unemployed, the rift between them had become horribly apparent to her. Sadly she had no idea how to repair it.

Penny had tried to seduce him a time or two, but he seemed very down these days, so intent on keeping them afloat that he barely seemed to notice her. She felt terribly inadequate herself, not because of physical self-image. She still turned heads in public often enough, but the years of corporate politics and cutthroat boardroom antics had apparently taken her toll and she had forgotten what it meant to really be sexy.

She felt totally out of place without the power of business behind her, and that translated to an awkward self-consciousness that she had not had since junior high. And worst yet, she feared that Mark didn't desire her anymore because she had lost her persona as a business-woman. So she had done what she knew best and revamped their finances, organized the house and cut their living expenses in half. Still he didn't seem to notice.

She laughed aloud for a moment, a bitter throaty laugh. "Here I am, twenty-eight years old and going through my midlife crisis," she mused with only a hint of humor. "What the hell happened to me?"

Her mind went back a decade to her freshman year of college in an instant.

It had been homecoming week. She couldn't remember what day precisely, but there had been a party. During homecoming it wasn't hard to find a party no matter what night of the week. And there had been alcohol: horrible barely palatable beer and fruit punch so strong you could light a flame to it. She smiled at the thought.

And there he was; the guy that caught her eye. He was tall, probably at least six-foot-three. He had on Khaki shorts and sandals, a polo shirt that showed the definition of his chest and shoulder muscles very plainly, and sunglasses pushed up into his wavy brown hair.

She had been attracted to him partly because he didn't really belong in the trashy frat-house environment that she had chosen as her party grounds that night, and partly because the simple look of him had turned her insides liquid. And on that very spot, the young woman had made a decision that "House-Wife Penny" would have found unfathomable. Under her breath she muttered to herself. "I like that shirt on you. It'll look even better at the foot of my bed."

Two drinks later she had found herself the center of his attention, and by the flirting that they had thrown between one another had been more than evident of what was to come. The sexual tension grew so thick over the next hour that when she did manage to get out of the party and stumble over to his apartment they didn't even speak once the door to his bedroom closed behind them.

In an instant they found themselves tearing the clothes from one another. She undid his shorts and tugged them down while he fumbled with the buttons of her top. Once freed of her blouse she tugged the polo over his head and kicked out of her own shorts. They had fumbled in the semi-darkness of the streetlights shining in his bedroom window and managed to get themselves unencumbered by any clothing.

All preamble and foreplay lost to the angst of teenaged lust she fell upon him, taking him in her mouth. She sighed at the feeling of the hard throbbing cock in her mouth. She closed her lips around him and massaged him between her tongue and the roof of his mouth. He moaned and seemed to tremble at her attentions. She began to move her head and using her tongue she drew back and forth, sucking and licking as she went.

She looked up at his face partly visible at the light shining through the mini-blinds from the street. She drew back and spoke up toward him. "You're going to cum in my mouth now." She sucked him in again, relishing the feel. Above her he nodded, unable to speak and braced himself against a desk chair that he happened to be standing near.

He throbbed inside her mouth and she could feel him getting begin to lose himself in the moment. His warm pre-cum tasted bitter and salty on her tongue as she took him deeper and deeper. She felt him shudder and knew that his time was near.

With a lunge she opened her mouth wide, threw her head back a bit, grabbed his hips roughly, thrust him into the back of her throat and held him there. She relaxed herself and began to swallow as he moaned and jetted warm liquid directly into her throat, not a drop entering her mouth.

She slowly withdrew him before she began to breathe. Her gag reflex was easier to control as long as she didn't try and breathe. She licked and sucked him on the way out but she already knew that he was far too sensitive to take much and it would be a bit before he would recover enough to scratch her itch.

"Wow," he stammered, still breathing heavily despite his rapidly deflating cock. "I mean wow..."

"Not my first time obviously," she said with a smile. "My boyfriend in high school taught me a few things."

In reality her boyfriend had been just as shy and awkward as she. However he had been endowed with manhood that should have been destined for pornography had he not been such a right-wing fundamentalist prude. It had been her seduction that had led to his misadventures and it had taken her a time to learn how to get it all into her mouth, let alone inside her virgin pussy. What she had found, after he had gotten a severe case of guilt and broken up with her, was that she had learned to give a blowjob that would rival those that Senators and rock stars paid thousands of dollars for.

She also knew from experimentation and advice from her slutty older sister was that if a man was to last long enough to get her off, she would need to take the edge off of him first.

"Why don't you relax and when you get yourself put back together you can fuck me," she suggested.

"Fuck that!" he panted. With one hand planted firmly on her chest he pushed her to the bed behind her. She noticed that it was nicely made, which meant he had planned, or at least hoped that he see some action tonight.

She let out an indignant squeal of protest that died quite suddenly when his lips found her wet and very wanton pussy. She gripped the bed, taking handfuls of sheets and blanket in her outstretched hands. A groan escaped her lips and she threw her head back as he worked his mouth skillfully over her wet slit, then nudged her clit with his nose.

She screeched the pleasure of his mouth upon her like nothing she had ever felt. She had gotten very adept at sucking cock, but the one time that a boy had gone down on her previously had felt like he was slobbering all over her. It had felt pleasurable once she got past all the saliva but this? This was something else indeed.

The tremors struck her completely by surprise and she found herself screaming at the top of her lungs, the pleasure overwhelming her.

And then just like that he had donned a condom and was inside her. Their bodies writhed for what seemed like an eon, but had turned out when the smoke cleared to be more like five minutes. He thrust into her and she wrapped her legs around him and coaxed him deeper, harder, faster. When she began to lose her cool and let go she pulled a pillow over her face and cut loose screaming like a banshee. He groaned and came with her, his body slowing and his cock shrinking to flaccidity inside her as her own breathing and movements slowed.

She pulled the pillow from her face and found him looking into her eyes. He was flushed and had a satisfied look (similar to her own she imagined) and smiled when he saw her look at him in the dim light.

"That was awesome," she said after a moment. He nodded, still clearly out of words.

"I think I should tell you," he said after he caught his breath a moment later, "My name is Mark."

Penny rubbed her thighs together subconsciously as she daydreamed of the night she had met her husband. She shuddered to reality as she realized that the washer was on its spin cycle and she was sitting on it, the rhythmic vibrations sending mini shockwaves through her thighs into her pleasure center.

"Oh my God," she murmured. "I must be hard up if I'm using the washer as a vibrator."

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