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I left the gate ajar so all he had to do was push it to enterI thought better that than me open the front door to the postman or otherIt's a big gate and when I say left ajar you can't tell it is unlockedPerhaps unlocked is a better word than ajar as it isn't really ajar at allI will send you a photo of the gate so you can visualise it betterAll went according to plan and her entered through the gate into the garden and then there are 2 double doors into a sun room and that is where I was sitting.I had spent several hours getting readyNot a hair on my body except on my head and my body smooth and moisturisedI had a bath, washed my pair, washed all of me and my pussyI wore the outfit I had described and I sent you some photos yesterday that he took of me to show you how I looked. It was my black wet look dress, black bra, panties, girdle, stockings, shoes, ankle bracelet, earrings, collar and gloves. I left my hair down, blue eye shadow and red lipstick. I had rouged my nipples. "I'm close," I gasped, "Should I pull out and pump my seed down the drain, or ..." I paused for breath, picturing as I spoke, "...or anoint your back?" "God, no, don't you dare pull out. I can hardly wait until you gush your great gobs of goo into me - you can, I hope. I've never been with an older guy like you, so I never thought about whether you come buckets like guys my age." I began to fuck her sweet ass harder and faster. The way her sphincter ring tried to close around me on each stroke created the greatest sexual friction I had ever experienced. Melons seemed to be on the brink of another huge orgasm. I vigorously fucked her 'almost virgin' ass with my throbbing cock, racing to finish before the cooling water turned cold. Another orgasm surged within her as I fucked her ass more fiercely. Melon's entire body shook. Her cunt contracted around my fingers, coating them with her nectar. Her asshole squeezed and released my invading weapon as I kept right on fucking, until I.
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* The snow was halfway up the windows. Candles flickered and made the room look far warmer than it felt. Carol’s stomach grumbled, but she couldn’t find the energy to get up. A knock sounded. She should go to the door. But there couldn’t be anybody outside, not on Christmas Eve with the snow already four feet high and still falling. Her fantasy was playing games; loneliness was no doubt making her imagine things. Another series of knocks broke the silence, loud, insistent. She turned her head around and looked at the door. “Wha…” Her voice was inaudible, raw from crying. The knocking turned into a pounding. “Hello?” a muffled male voice asked from outside. “Is there anybody inside? Hello?” * A deep trench, almost a canyon, wound its way through the snow, and the older couple standing in front of Carol’s door, clad in thick down jackets and with their cheeks reddened by the exertion in the cold, looked relieved. They were both breathing hard and leaning on their snow shovels..

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