He shrugged. ‘Come with me,’ he suggested.
‘Can’t. Work,’ I said.
‘The shorts,’ he prompted, and I unbuttoned and lowered them swiftly, knickers and all, to my ankles. If I did this quickly it was much easier.
‘You’ve forgotten what I showed you last time,’ said Joss, and the anger was now replaced by disappointment. ‘Remember what I said he liked.’
‘Oh. Yes. Sorry.’ I should have kneaded my breasts for him and done the whole ‘Is this body part to your satisfaction, sir?’ thing.
‘I’ll have to get you here more often. More practice,’ he said. He had got off the mower and was leaning against it, tight shorts exhibiting an unmistakable bulge. He took off his sunglasses and his eyes were narrow and intent.
‘Are you going to make me do it now?’ I asked, hoping we could take all that as read and move on.
‘Of course I am,’ he said quietly.
I didn’t even think of arguing, though I sighed a little before handling my breasts then bending over to show him more. I reminded myself that he had seen it all, many times before, yet it was still uniquely embarrassing to display myself in this way.
When I straightened up, he was rummaging in a little haversack hanging from a tree branch. He brought out a bottle of sun lotion.
‘If we’re going to do this outside …’ he said, slapping a palm-full on his chest and arms.
‘Oh, right. Yeah. Don’t want sunburn as well as … everything else.’ I was thinking he might spank me today. Maybe sunburn would be the least of my worries.
‘No, we don’t. Will you do my back for me?’
He threw the lotion over and I caught it, blinking. I gave his back a considering look. It was broad and light brown, narrowing pleasingly to where the denim shorts clung to his hips. What an Adonis. I’d forgotten …
I reached up to rub the lotion into his warm skin, where it quickly melted, leaving a glisten and a sweet beachy smell. His breath was audible and occasionally he made an ‘mm’ of appreciation.
‘God, that’s nice,’ he said, once I was finished. ‘You have such talented fingers.’
‘Thanks.’ I poured some into my own palm, but he snatched the bottle off me while I was rubbing it into my face and neck.
‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘You must let me.’
‘Joss …’
His expression brooked no refusal.
I turned away from him so he could attend to my back and shoulders, which he did so thoroughly and with such heavenly precision of touch that I found myself edging backwards, seeking more in the way of skin-to-skin contact. His thumbs were strong, pressing upwards from my shoulder blades into the tenderer flesh of my neck in a way that made me gasp and then purr.
‘God, you should charge for this,’ I said. ‘Ohhh, that’s so good.’
I knew I should try and stop him, but this was the best I’d felt in about five years and I just couldn’t deny myself.
‘Relax,’ he whispered. ‘Let me …’
When he reached around to oil up my belly and then my breasts, I didn’t raise a squeak in protest. I leant back into him and let him smear the lotion thickly over every inch of bare skin. He reached lower and I could feel his breath on my neck and the tantalising brush of his whiskers. He lotioned my hips and my lower abdomen and then one hand cupped a buttock and caressed it in slow lubricated circles.
Between my thighs, I was already soaked and my clit was starting to weigh me down. My knees no longer existed.
He squirted more lotion into his palm and moved on to the other cheek, dropping the bottle into the grass so that his other hand was free to stroke my nipples.
This was a long way beyond anything we had agreed. I had never said he could touch me like this. But my body was saying it for me, saying much more than that, begging …
I was deaf, dumb and blind to anything but my body’s need to have his all over it. He slipped his slippery fingers between my bottom cheeks and I let out a little cry – of despair, of desire, of so many complicated things that all added up to one thing: have me.
I moved my neck a little as the desperate sound flew out of me, closer to his mouth, close enough for him to stop up all my little animal noises by pressing his lips to mine.