As they say, silence is consent. Mrs. Bowsmith took me by the hand and apparently navigating with her head lights led me to the swimming pool’s shed... The smell of chlorine was strong. She shut the door and I started to undress. I kept trying to figure out another way. When I had the swimming trunks on I had a look. They were certainly brief but all was in order, just. My wedding tackle was enclosed with no room for any thing more. I stacked my clothes on the lawn mower and considered what I’d. I want to scream and rip the clothes away, but you silence me with a look that says “be patient – enjoy the moment”. Your hands slide inside my top and caress my skin, slowly, slowly moving over my ribs and onto my breasts. You pull one breast free temporarily and cover it with your mouth. Another moan escapes me and my knees give way, but you catch me by putting your leg in between mine and I come to rest on your thigh. You draw me back up and continue on to the other breast, then cover them. More

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