The Lady Garden

Angela smiled. And nodded. And her hand found its way to her previously discussed lady garden.

For a woman who spent a good part of her working day digging and fossicking, Angela had remarkably elegant fingers. Jarvis had notice this when they had been working on saving The Old Corn Store at Widecombe. 'Gloves,' a voice in Jarvis's head said. 'And hand cream.'

'Hand cream?' another voice said. 'Cunt cream, more likely. Look at how she glistens already.'

'Quiet, you two,' Jarvis said.

Angela frowned. 'What?'

'Sorry. Just ... you know ... nothing. I sometimes think that I hear things. Voices. Obviously I don't. But ....'

Angela smiled. 'I know what you mean,' she said. 'I sometimes find myself head down in a trench, a trowel in one hand, a brush in the other, and a voice in my head is dictating my field notes. If it could just go the extra step and type them into my laptop. Now that would be really helpful.' And she laughed.

Yes. Jarvis liked Angela. And the voice in his head that had observed that she was already glistening was not wrong. Apparently, it was not just Jarvis's cock that was being affected by the sun.

'I think this might call for two hands,' Angela said. With the thumb and forefinger of one hand, she spread her outer labia, and with the fingers of her other hand she spread her juices and massaged the area around her now-prominent clit.

Jarvis upped his own tempo. He wanted the moment to last. But he also knew that it would not last forever. Perhaps if he could just distract himself for a while. Focus on something else for a moment or two. A bit of Shakespeare perhaps?

'Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,' he muttered in his brain, 'or close the wall up with our English dead. In peace there's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility: but when the blast of war blows in our ears, then imitate the action of the tiger; stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood ....'

But sinews -- or something -- had already been well and truly stiffened. And there was no shortage of red blood finding its way to Jarvis's sun-kissed cock. 'Oh, well,' he told himself. 'Go with the flow. Enjoy the moment. Here's to National Nude Day.'

The end, when it came, came quickly. Kapow. Kapow. Kapow. Jarvis's cock kicked like a small shotgun, its tip rising with each discharge, only to fall and then rise again.

'That's impressive,' the smiling Angela said. 'Let's see what I can do, shall we?' And she plunged two fingers deep inside herself and worked her other hand with the speed yet lightness of a humming bird gathering nectar.

Jarvis had only known one squirter before Angela. And Hannah had been more of a dribbler than a squirter. But Angela was the real thing. Angela was a squirter. A gusher. Well, she certainly was when she was naked in Jarvis's garden with the full sun upon her.

'And that is truly impressive,' Jarvis said. 'I happily concede.'

Angela just smiled.

For five minutes -- maybe longer -- they both sat there. Ambrose and His Orchestra had once again taken up residence in Jarvis's head. Jarvis wasn't sure what was going on inside Angela's head. But she was smiling. And then Jarvis announced that he was going to go and make a jug of Pimms. 'After that, we should probably think about some lunch.'

'Unfortunately, I have a couple of work things that I need to do,' Angela said. 'And I'm afraid they will require me to wear clothes again. But perhaps if you are not doing anything later ....'

'Well ... if you must. But perhaps you could come back for supper,' Jarvis said. 'Once the paving on the terrace heats up, it holds its heat for more than enough time for us to enjoy a leisurely naked supper.'

'Thank you. I'd like that. I'll bring a bottle of wine,' Angela said.

When Angela returned, a little after six, the sun was still in the sky and it was still quite warm. 'I have a confession to make,' she said. 'It seems that I may have misled you. Today is not National Nude Day after all. Today is National Butterfly Day. National Nude Day is not until tomorrow. Sorry about that. I don't know how I managed to get those two mixed up.' And she laughed.

'Well, the weather forecast for tomorrow is for another day like today,' Jarvis said. 'So, perhaps you could spend the night with me. And, tomorrow, you and I can celebrate the real National Nude Day. I mean ... it's not as if you'll need a change of clothes or anything.'

And Angela laughed again.