It was a beautiful June evening when William Clarke met Rebecca Stuart in the beer garden of the Mulberry Tree in the village of Brocklington, and they sat looking out over the river Deighton.
At the end of the evening William offered to walk her
home, Rebecca lived on the other side of the river.
It was a rather grand house that she inherited from her
parents which backed onto some woods that ran down to the river.
So, he walked along the bridlepath with Rebecca with
her arm through his, wearing his jacket against the night air.
They stopped in the trees at the rear of her house next
to her back gate and they paused in the darkness and kissed a long sensual
kiss.
“Good night” she said but he didn’t respond.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“My jacket?” he said.
“Oh yes, silly me” she giggled.
She took off the jacket and gave him another kiss.
“I could come in” he suggested.
“What you mean is you could cum in me” she retorted.
“That was the general idea” he said.
“I thought you’d never ask” Rebecca said and took him
by the hand and led him through the gate, and he didn’t come back out until
dawn.
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