I have to admit, I did always have kind of a thing for the gardener. He was not my usual type at all. He was a brute really, but that’s what attracted me. He was very masculine, and I was so horny when he came to cut the grass last week. I went outside to tell him I was getting some shrubs delivered I wanted him to plant and he started coming on to me. He said he knew I wanted it, that he would bet I was wet. I started acting all indignant at his words and telling him he had a lot of nerve.
He told me he knew my husband was a worm that couldn’t satisfy a woman the way he could and he was just going to show me and he bent me over right there in the backyard. I grabbed onto a branch in front of me so I wouldn’t lose my balance, and he just unzipped himself and pulled up my skirt and let me have it. I felt like a slut, letting the gardener fuck me that way right there out in the open. I had to admit though, he had a very thick cock, and it had been a while since I’d been so filled up with dick.
He fucked me roughly and I liked it. Most of the more refined, cultured men I’d been with were not terribly aggressive in the bedroom. This one was, and he made me wetter than I’d been in years. I was soon cumming on his cock and he was growling in my ear calling me a whore. I felt him go off inside of me and then pull out. He was soon starting the lawnmower like nothing had happened. My husband soon came home and didn’t say anything, he just retreated to his study room like he always did until dinner. I was left with thoughts of my rough garden fuck the rest of the night and beyond.
