The greenhouse night
Farah and Cedric came through the app as a pair who already knew what they were walking into. She is thirty-four. He is thirty-seven. I told them the greenhouse at night, the slate floor, and the fact that I squirt when I cum and I want a mouth there for it. They said yes twice, once in text and once on my step, which is the version I trust. I have no boyfriend and no patients. This is my house. The plants are not a job I am performing for them.
I met them in the linen shirt and brown trousers, freckles warm under the grow lamps, red-brown braid over one shoulder. I stood between the benches so they could see the ordinary version first, shirt buttoned, soil on the wood, night black against the glass. I said Farah could lick my cunt and Cedric could fuck me, and that if I soaked her face that was the point and not a mess to apologize for. Farah laughed, low and pleased. Cedric asked where to put his hands. I like a man who asks before he is already in me.
We cleared a bench and then ignored it. I got the trousers off and kept the shirt open. Farah went to her knees on the slate and put her mouth on my cunt like she had been thinking about it on the drive. Her tongue was patient and then not. I held the braid out of my own way and told her softer, then right there, then do not be delicate. Cedric stood behind me, cock out, waiting because I had not said now. When my thighs started to shake I reached back, stroked his cock once, and told him to fuck my cunt while she stayed on my clit. He pushed in slow. The stretch plus her mouth made my voice go thin. I said their names so the glass would have something true in it.
I came the first time all over Farah. It was not a dribble. My cunt clenched around Cedric's cock and I squirted, a hot rush across her mouth and chin and onto the slate, and she moaned into it instead of flinching. I kept a hand in her hair so she would stay and take it. They laughed with me when I could laugh, wet and shocked in the good way, and nobody reached for a towel yet. Cedric fucked me through the aftershocks, cock deep, Farah licking the mess off my cunt until I built again. I came a second time with my forehead against a post, smaller and meaner, and a third time when he rubbed my clit with his thumb and I gushed down his cock onto her tongue. I wanted all three. I had said so.
He pulled out and came on the slate beside the puddle because I wanted the floor honest and my cunt empty for the mop. We rinsed faces at the utility sink, then the three of us mopped, still half undressed, giggling at how much there was. I sent them home with wet knees and no promise. I slept with the greenhouse door latched and a book on the pillow, smug and sore and not anybody partner.
