David loves to watch me water my garden.

Partially, that’s because I am an avid gardener and our backyard is always a riot of colorful flowers. But also because I like to water the greenery while naked, and my backside is at least as appealing to him as the flora. He sits on a sofa in our sunroom and witnesses me being au naturel in nature. This is one of the reasons we live in California, where I can have flowers all year round. It’s always growing season for something.

Especially my blossoming libido.

David likes to watch me in all sorts of situations, actually — from naked in the garden, to naked while camping, to naked at the neighbor’s pool. I also stoke his fires by setting up a variety of encounters so he can catch me in the act of, well, having my flower watered.

Recently, I hired a professional gardening team to help out with some of the heavier physical jobs in the backyard. The foreman was tall and tan, with hair that had been sun-bleached and eyes like turquoise water. Or at least, that’s what I said when I described him to David.

“Turquoise?” my husband asked. “Really?”

I shrugged and said, “You haven’t gotten as close to him as I have.”

That let David know I’d fucked Greg while he was at the office. I wanted my husband to think about me with the gardener. I wanted him to imagine what I’d looked like when Greg had spread my pussy lips and slid his tool inside me.

David doesn’t mind when I have little flings. If I come home ravished by another man, he simply asks me to share every dirty detail. But he really loves it when he gets to watch. I was playing with him, though, when I said, “After the rest of his team left, Greg hosed me down.”

“You don’t say,” he responded, his eyes alight with lust.

I lifted my dress and lowered my panties so he could feel my wet slit. I wanted him to know that Greg had come in me, in case he wanted seconds.

He did. In a flash, he bent me over the table and took me while I was still hot and drippy from my afternoon lover. But even as my husband came inside me, I was already planning for the next planting. I let David know that if he was interested, he could watch my next encounter.

He didn’t have to wait long for it to happen. Saturday morning my husband was up with his coffee and the paper, and that’s when we both heard the sound of a truck rumbling into our driveway.

“Lisa,” he said, looking at me.

I gave him a quick kiss before hurrying outside and down the path to open the back gate for my hunky gardener. I didn’t even pretend to talk weeding. Knowing David was watching from the kitchen, I pulled off my sundress and tossed it to the ground. There I stood in my panties and green rubber gardening boots.

Greg kicked off his work boots and then stripped out of the rest of his attire. He didn’t ask me if my husband was around, didn’t pause for any questions. I could tell from the way he was looking at me that he’d been hoping this Saturday morning rendezvous — I’d asked him to come on his own — was going to be about more than my shrubbery.

I imagined David staring with wide eyes as Greg went on his knees in the grass and began to lick my pussy. I put my hands on his head and shouted at the sunny sky. My hair is long and straight and hangs almost to my ass. There was a light breeze that made the tendrils move this way and that. I moved this way and that myself, shimmying as Greg thrust his tongue deep inside me.

I tried to imagine what thoughts were going through David’s head. I looked over my shoulder, but I couldn’t see my husband. I could only see the reflection of myself and Greg in the window. That was even hotter somehow. Seeing my own image as my hunky gardener tended to my personal landscape added an extra thrill to the scenario. When he had me teetering like a honeybee poised on the edge of a flower petal, he pulled me down onto the plush grass with him.

I hoped David could see us clearly. I grasped Greg at the root of his stiff cock, and I drew him into me. Naked, he was like a burnished golden statue come to life. His muscles gleamed in the morning light as he plowed me.

I wondered if David was pressing himself up against the glass, if he had his own dick in his hand, jerking himself off while he watched us.

Greg pushed himself up on his arms and then lowered his body down onto me, piercing me to my core. My legs wrapped around him as I tried to keep his staff deep within me. I forgot momentarily that we had an audience beyond the buzzing bees and chirping birds. I felt as if the whole world had become only the gardener and myself. That is, until I heard the sound of one of our windows opening. Was David sending me a message or simply trying to get a better look? Greg didn’t seem to notice. When I gazed up at him, I saw that his eyes were shut, his shaggy hair swaying as he fucked me.

“Greg thrust into my pussy repeatedly, holding my hips to keep me steady.”

I was going to have grass stains on my ass, but I didn’t care. Greg suddenly moved us, and now we were facing the house with me on my hands and knees. My palms sank into the verdant carpet. I got dirt under my nails. Greg thrust into my pussy repeatedly, holding my hips to keep me steady.

He moved his cock from side to side, almost stirring me, and then he thrust in deep. When he let a hand run under my body to strum my clit in a rapid flutter of finger flicks, I thought of my husband and came. Greg followed me one beat later, although I was fairly sure he wasn’t thinking of David.

After we parted, I watched my handsome gardener slide his clothes back on. They were rumpled and wet from the morning dew, but he didn’t seem concerned. I told him to come by on Tuesday, and we’d talk weeding for real. Then I went into the house, a modern Venus naked and warmed from the sun, and I let my husband take me for my second tryst of the morning.

I know exactly how to make his pleasure blossom.

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