Lissa and Nancy: Secret Garden

[Marion]

Note: As with all of my stories, this will make sense as a stand-alone, but it’s probably more fun if you read them in order of posting.

We’re soaking in a hot bubble-bath together. It’s our second bath, so the water is fairly clean. We are feeling intensely relaxed, as you might imagine.

“Next time, we need a mirror on the ceiling.” Nancy says, stretching like a cat and sliding soapy skin over mine.

“Fuck yes. But not next time. Next time I want to play outside. I want to roll around in the mud with you.”

“Mmmmm. OK outside. Let’s make ourselves somewhere where we can play really dirty. I look forward to watching us in the ceiling mirror.”

I’ve never met such an impossible girl.
***
The lads from the landscaping company are giving us that look that men give us when they are trying to work out whether we’re fucking each other. For once I’m quite enjoying it. Nancy is having a field day, but then she has been the primary architect of this part of our little game. She has dressed up for the occasion, as have I.
I swish down the garden path balancing the tray with the lemonade glasses, heels clicking, and deftly duck the clothesline. When I round the corner of the shed I see that Nancy has things in hand. She’s dressed in denim overalls, cut off bum-hugging short, and a white shirt tied under her breasts and rolled to the elbows. She looks like a cowgirl in a porno movie with so much of her firm skin on show. She’s directing the wheelbarrows of clay to their proper place in the massive wet hole we’ve dug at the bottom of our garden.

“By the tall hedge please, where there’s the slope. Shallow water is very attractive for invertebrates, you know. Just there! Lovely. Melissa! Come and see our pond taking shape.”

Setting the tray on a metal garden table I approach the hole by walking tightrope fashion along one of the long planks that we put down for the convenience of the wheelbarrows. I catch Nancy’s eye and make a performance of keeping my balance. After all, it would be a sin to get such a pretty dress covered in mud. Nancy requested that I look ‘Stepford Wives’ this afternoon. I’m wearing a lemon yellow fifties style dress, stockings and matching heels. A long string of plastic pearls swings between my tits. My hair has been professionally styled in graceful shiny waves. Nancy knows I haven’t got any knickers on.

“It’s looking fantastic darling. Why does it go downhill like that?”

“It’s going to provide a sort of beach for all the frogs and things.”

“That’s nice. Funny, it looks just like a slide.” I can hardly keep my face straight.

“Just put the last load in a pile there, behind the sun-loungers.”

The loungers are wearing neat plastic covers as if we are expecting a shower of rain on this glorious afternoon.

“I’ll need some spare when the plants are delivered. We’re going to have neatly trimmed bushes.”

The younger of the delivery lads sprays lemonade from his nose, nearly dropping the glass he’s just accepted. Nancy beams innocently.

“Now then, that’s 3 tons of puddling clay at £40 per ton plus VAT, plus delivery, and a bit on the top since you were able to do us so quickly.”

While Nancy sorts this out I return the glasses to the tray, smiling breezily at the bemused and curious landscapers. The outsides of the glasses are slicked with clay and condensation but I act as if I’m utterly oblivious, smearing my hands. Nancy is trying to pass a sheaf of papers to the older lad but he doesn’t even hear her: he’s watching me casually wipe my hands on the pale lace skirt, streaking its full folds with shocking chocolate coloured clay.

“Oh and one last thing. I’m almost embarrassed to ask. Would you mind awfully helping me wrestle… the hosepipe down to the pond? The damn thing is so kinky. We’ll need to keep it all soaking wet tonight, you see.” she says, brightly, accompanied by a subtle roll of her hips.

I don’t know how she does it. My shoulders are shaking with laughter as the landscapers’ eyes practically bug out of their heads. I recline on one of the loungers next to the big pile of clay and drop my shades over my eyes, muddy fingers clutching my own glass of lemonade. Ice jingles. Nancy leads them back around the shed - “It’s like our own secret garden back there!” - and back to the house - “I’m sure Melissa can entertain herself for a minute!”.

I wonder if either of our poor marks noticed the sleek purple sex toy on the table. I think they might have done. They were both walking rather stiffly when they departed. Laughter bursts out of me and I accidently shower my skirt with cold lemonade.

***
Nancy holds the hose for me to rinse my hands. She needs help with the mirror. When I’m finished I angle my fingers close to the nozzle to soak Nancy in a fast mist of cold water. She grabs me, trying to retaliate, but when she drops the hose trigger the water stops and we just end up snogging instead. We are still on a giggly rush from our silly scene with the landscapers.

The mirror is huge and already has a long loop of nylon rope attached to the back. It was my idea to put a coat hook on the back wall of the shed. It takes two of us to lift and position the mirror. With the long rope we’re able to lean it at a broad angle from the shed wall so that it reflects the middle of the excavation.

“One of us is going to have to go down there and look up so that we can adjust the angle.” Nancy purrs into my ear. “Want to get down on your back in all that gluey mud? Rub it into your silky hair? Or shall I give you a show?” She strokes her hands over her own body, a pantomime of sensuality.

“You are utterly unable to delay gratification aren’t you?” I laugh, leaning into her.

“That’s right. I prefer to do it again.”

“I’ll need you to help me drag the sun-lounger over to the edge of the mudpit so that I can spectate in comfort.”

“So that you can spread your legs and play with yourself as you watch.” She pulls me tightly into to her arms and kisses my neck hard, almost biting. “I want you in the best seat in the house.”

When we have the lounger and table repositioned I scout around in the grass for the hose trigger. I want to help Nancy churn the clay into a slick, squishy playground. Finding the hose, I am surprised when I glance up and find her totally naked. Then I notice she still has her builder’s boots on. The contrast between her luscious naked body and the construction site she’s scrambling around in is getting me wetter. As she climbs to the top of the slope, that is in fact a slide, I take my seat on the sun-lounger and select a bottle of mineral oil from the table. I set it beside me next to the sleek purple sex toy making sure she is watching. I point the hose skywards.

“Nancy?”

When she looks up the arc of cold clear water hits her hard, instantly drenching her hair. She gasps and steadies herself on the sticky slope, leaning back to let the water rush in torrents off her body in every direction. I keep the falling water moving, pounding down on her belly, her shoulders, trying to overwhelm her with the delicious shocking cold. She’s panting when I stop, water streaming from her hair and her mouth, nipples standing out achingly hard. Water continues to pour down the clay slope for a minute in milky, muddy rivers. Mud foams in the huge wet puddle at the bottom.

She fixes me with her most provocative stare and slowly lowers her bare ass into the mud. But she’s instantly slipping! Nancy slithers inelegantly down the slope, sliding everywhere in her huge boots, and gathering soft mud between her legs. She sinks into the puddle with a bark of shocked pleasure. It’s far too late to tease; she’s up to her nipples in cold muddy water. She throws back her head and laughs, splashing, before rubbing blobs of clay over wet, glossy tits.

As predicted, I have been stroking my clit under my skirt. I now spread my legs, drawing my heels up on the plastic and throwing aside layers and layers of petticoats, and let oil from the bottle pour over my bare pussy. The cool trickling makes me imagine how Nancy must feel with her pussy sunk in the mud and my clit tightens blissfully. I watch her as I start to slide the toy along my greasy slit: she’s playing totally unselfconsciously, covering herself with wet clay. I upend the oil bottle again, relaxing under the cool flow as I smoothly push the toy deeper inside. I dip it in and out again, filling my pussy with gorgeously slippery oil inside and out. I use so much that my deepest thrusts with the toy make a squishing sound. Raising the bottle higher I start to pour oil all over my dress. It soaks and darkens the lemon yellow fabric under the lace, which becomes transparent. I’m reminded of pouring raw eggs into Nancy’s white silk knickers and crumple with lust. I realise Nancy is now watching me, lying sprawled on her belly in the mud, her skin streaked and painted all over and her hair plastered. The water has been absorbed by the clay and Nancy is caked in heavy mud.

“I need you to get me wet too, Liss.”

Oh god yes. Before I let go of the shaft of the toy I thumb a switch, setting it to buzz. This feels uniquely naughty under the blue summer sky. Directing the hose down into the pit and squeezing the trigger; I watch Nancy wriggle in the loosening mud. She looks even filthier as the clay turns to sloppy liquid mud and covers her skin. I tell her she’s beautiful, so beautiful; then I tell her she’s filthy and she rolls in it, mixing the mud with her lithe undulations. Leaning back I watch Nancy in the mudpit and Nancy in the mirror, performing for me in synchrony. The angle is just perfect. My fingertip finds my clit and I keep raining water down on her until the puddle is deep enough to cover her shoulders. Nancy sloshes and splashes, her face shining with happiness. When I finally take the pressure off the trigger she stills and holds my gaze for a moment before burying her face in the softened mud. She writhes with the whole length of her body and strokes mud thickly over the back of her own head. I start to fuck myself with the tingling toy again and watch her totally lose control, thrashing and bucking. She gasps desperate breath before sinking under again, spreading her legs wide and riding her pussy into the silky mud. The rolling motion of her hips sends sticky waves to crash between her legs as she comes: bending her knees to sink her body deeper and raising her clotted boots in the air over her muddy ass. Oil spills out from my brimming pussy as my own need intensifies and I thrust faster.
She opens startlingly bright eyes, shining with satisfaction in the middle of her totally muddy face, and she sees what I’m doing. Nancy gets to her feet in the mudpit, bringing us more or less eye to eye. Clumps of mud and muddy water drip from her tits and start running down her legs. I slow my thrusting, transfixed. She looks worshipful and timeless, some prehistoric Goddess of the Fuck.

“Rinse me, I want to try something.”

I take the hose in my free hand and direct the jet of water at Nancy. The effect is immediate and astonishing. Pale clean skin starts to emerge as the water beats down on her and thunders into the muddy pool. I stop when she is mostly clean. Mud still trickles out of her hair and lingers under her breasts and between her legs.

“Are you ready?” she asks.

“For what?”

“To start fucking yourself again.”

Nancy starts to splash with her feet, sloshing muddy waves up over her clean legs. I thrust with the toy as I watch. She splashes harder, stamping her feet and splattering her muddy crotch with the leaping mud. I find my thrusting falling into rhythm with her splashes. Watching her get herself dirty this way is intensely arousing. She’s mostly covered with mud to the waist and totally splashed above. Her speckled tits dance as she starts jumping. With every deep, squishy thrust of the toy Nancy drenches herself with great flying slops of mud. It drips down her belly and she runs her hands all over her breasts through the mud. I find the perfect sweet spot inside and keep her frantic rhythm, greasing my fingertip fast over my oily clit. I’m going to come any second. The toy throbs inside me.

And Nancy throws herself on her belly in the mud. She rolls and covers herself again, beginning with her face. The sight of her wallowing in the sloppy mud again sends me right over the edge and I come hard, grinding my oily clit and hammering with the toy. I’m conquered totally by the soaring pleasure, my spasms seizing the toy inside me, pushing me further up before I plunge into perfect gluey pleasure. I lie in the sun, soaked in oil and sweat, delighted with the heat and the mess and the sheer naughtiness of it all.

A shadow passes over my closed eyes and then thrilling cold wetness as Nancy crawls onto the lounger astride me. She’s glistening with creamy mud, holding her body over my hot oily dress. I dare her with my eyes to close the distance between her painted tits and the bright clean fabric.

We each give a little cry of pleasure when our skin touches and as we lock into a kiss I realize how much I’ve wanted to touch her, how badly I need her hot skin and strong arms. We’re both so slippery! When our kisses eventually start to slow I look down to admire the mess. Nancy looks like a woman sculpted out of clay, drying except where it has mixed with the oil. She’s still wearing the work-boots; one pressed into each of my flanks as she straddles my waist. But I somehow look much dirtier than she is with my pretty dress streaked and smeared with mud and soaked in oil and hitched up to bare my pussy. Greasy pearls slither round my neck. I can feel mud and lipstick wiped over my cheek. Nancy is looking at me as if I were something to eat.

“How do I look?”

“Debased.”

That gets us kissing again. She circles my tits with greasy squeezing fingers, leaving most of the mud on the dress.

“If you want to look for yourself, you’ll have to come and join me in the mudpit.”

She’s right. We get up. My heels sink deep into the clay as I make my way to the top of the slide, my legs still fluttery from my climax. I use the hose to soak the slope; we’re taking it in with us this time.

“Nancy, what are you doing?”

She’s put her knickers back on. Hot pink lace shorts that contrast richly with her dirty skin. In answer she simply leaps back into the mudpit, sinking deep with the energy of her fall and slopping down onto hands and knees.

“Slide in and help me get these dirty!”

Sitting down in the wet mud with my full skirt and oily pussy feels exquisitely exciting but the slide is over too fast. My heels sink into the mud at the bottom and I let myself follow, enjoying the mud sliding down my back and the decadent feeling of crumpling my petticoats into the mudpit. Most of my skirt floats on the surface but my long pearls dip into the mud and daub mud everywhere they touch. Nancy crawls towards me on her hands and knees through the mud; it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. She stretches her arms low in front of her, dipping her tits into the mud between my heels and raising the pink knickers in the air.

I cover my hands with mud as thick as cake mix and lather her ass with it, while she squirms and lowers her muddy face into my skirt. She drops and rolls onto her back, smiling, exposing the clean inviting front of the pink lace knickers. I lean down and kiss her upside down lips and as I stroke a handful of mud into my lover’s knickers and I can distinguish her own silky warm wetness mixing with its cool thickness. She laughs and squirms as I coat her pussy lips and play with her clit. Then, panting, she starts to stand up.

“Stay right where you are!” she tells me, and goes to reach for something up on the edge of the grass.

I recline against the slide and cross one leg, cocking my obliterated high heel in the air. I stoke the glutinous mud from my hands up my bare white arms; painting a pair of tall formal gloves. The sensation of my hair sticking to the muddy slope sends tingles up the back of my neck. Nancy has a towel or something in her hands, when she turns back she looks flustered. Perhaps it’s the mud sloshing around in her knickers as she walks. She drops her bundle on a drier patch and slumps down gratefully into the mud again in front of me.

“Don’t try to pretend you didn’t enjoy that, Nance, I thought I was going to come just from the sound it made squishing out of your slit…”
She basically pounces on me before I can finish. Her embrace gets me utterly covered in fresh, wet mud and I love it. I stifle a moan into her open mouth as she slicks her hands up the back of my neck into my hair. I buck my hips into her warm weight.

“You are not nearly dirty enough yet, Melissa.” She growls into my ear.

Holding me roughly she scrambles around behind me and sits astride my waist. The position reminds me of lounging in the bath with her. I help her pull my skirt out of the way. There is so much fabric and lace that more than half of it still hasn’t gone in the mud. Nancy exposes my oily pussy. I’m waiting for her to scoop up a handful of slick clay and plaster me with it. My clit strains towards her expected touch. Instead she covers her hands with the runniest mud and flicks it over my clit, splashing me. I moan with pleasure and frustration and watch Nancy do it again and again. I ache for contact with her fingers; I ache for a cool smear of the buttery mud; and I revel in her teasing. She’s going to splatter me everywhere. I feel her let go her embrace so that she can get into a more combative position. I sprawl in the mud with my skirts hitched up and let her rain silky splatters of liquid silt down all over me. I can’t stop laughing, it feels so good. Mud splatters my face and my dress and my pussy. Mud drips from my hair. I shut my eyes and let Nancy go wild. It feels wicked to be so helplessly turned on together.

When the splatters finally stop I need to wipe my eyes. I find a dry-ish patch of skirt by feel. Where’s Nancy? I cautiously part my lashes. She’s kneeling in the middle of the mudpit, posing like an underwear model and wearing the hot pink bra that matched the now unrecognisable knickers. I feel a deep twist of arousal: the bundle wasn’t a towel it was her clothes. Oh Nancy, you naughty girl. She crawls towards me again.

“Cover it.” her voice is quiet but thick with arousal.

Wordlessly, tenderly, I smooth wet clinging clay over her breasts, smothering the pink bra and gliding my hands inside the cups to stroke her nipples. She shuts her eyes and makes a raw sobbing sound of pleasure deep in her throat. I want to touch her all over now, I don’t want to stop. Then I catch sight of her crisp white shirt discarded behind her. Without taking both hands off her warm sloppy tits, I snag the shirt. She opens her eyes the instant the dry starched cotton touches her shoulder. She smiles at me complicitly and helps me get her arms into it; she’s very slippery. I re-tie the knot under her breasts with muddy fingers and drink in the sight of her before starting to cover her clean shirt. Her skin is thick with mud underneath the fabric and my hands slide so easily over her breasts, down her back. Her nipples are so hard I can still feel them through both layers. I decide to fill the cups of her bra with more mud, reaching through the buttons of the shirt. I can feel mud trickling down the backs of my thighs and sticking my petticoats to my legs when I kneel high to kiss her.

The overall-shorts complete her reverse striptease. It’s difficult to pull them over her boots; these are now lollypops of sticky mud, weighing her down. She looks utterly, utterly sexy, plastered in mud all over but dressed in clean tight denim. She’s glowing with pleasure: we got quite a lot of mud into her knickers when we pulled up the shorts.

“I want to watch you cover yourself again” I say.

When she sprawls back towards the wet centre I take hold of her ankle, pinning one of her boots into my lap. I have to dig the clay off to find her laces. When she sees what I’m doing she shoots me a grateful look and, while she has my eye she starts to stroke muddy hands all over herself. I watch her fill the breast pocket of the overalls and squeeze the mud back out again to pour down her belly. She gives me a show to the extent that it’s nearly impossible to concentrate on the boots.

As I strip both of her feet bare Nancy squirms on her back, stroking the mud under the bib of her overalls and into her hair. I realise that my grip on her ankles, restricting her wriggling legs, is pushing her towards another shuddering climax. Soft clay squishes noisily inside Nancy’s shorts.

I take her clean pink toes into my mouth and suck. Woah! She’s laughing; she’s bucking with her hips: she’s coming. My clit stiffens achingly in response to her ragged moans of pleasure. She sinks her head backwards into the deep mud as she starts to come, my tongue twirling between her toes. At the apex of her climax I dip her twitching feet into the cool soft mud and hold them there, stroking, prolonging her ecstasy.

I crawl up beside her, dragging my heavy skirts, and straddle her, stroking her and stripping her while she palms mud off her face. She can hardly open her eyes anyway she’s so exhausted and happy. She makes soft sounds and arches her back when I finally get her naked and stroke silky clay over her hot sticky skin. She puts her arms around my neck and pulls me down to lie in the mud with her and I sink into the welcome touch. Stretching out beside her; I remember the mirror and look up .

Reflected above me we lie in a sensuous tangle of limbs; Nancy naked and slick with her leg twisted into the sodden skirts between my legs. Remarkably my shoulders are still mostly clean above the ‘gloves’, as are patches of my dress. My sticky hair still holds most of its shape but now hangs over one eye like Jessica Rabbit.

“Nancy, look up.”

“Hmm? Oh! MMMmmm Fuck! Look at us!”

Watching herself, spellbound, Nancy languorously covers the remainder of the dress. The reflected image is making it adorably difficult for her to remember which is left and which is right. We can’t stop giggling. Eventually it’s too heavy to wear and we rip and strip at the weakened fabric until it tears down the bodice, spilling my oily tits for Nancy’s eager fingertips. Her slick lazy touch is heavenly over my hard nipples. I slide out of the ruin of the dress and wallow naked with her, stroking. The pearls snap and scatter everywhere, unheeded. The mirror reflects glistening tits, slithering hands; we’re so covered in mud that when I look up I find it’s difficult to tell where her body stops and mine begins. We are in no particular hurry; the pleasure is everywhere.

“OH HOLY FUCK!!”

We both freeze and look up instantly in the direction of the voice. Oh Holy Fuck indeed.

“FUCK. Sorry. SORRY. Fuck. We took your – I brought back – Ithinkthisisyourshovel!”

Nancy recovers first.

“Thanks mate. Leaning up against the back of the shed would be lovely.”

He looks at her, dumbfounded and then looks at the shovel in his hands as if noticing it for the first time. He props it behind the shed; knocks it over, props it up again and basically flees. After a few heartbeats we hear a cry of pained surprise and I reflect that I really ought to move that clothesline.

I look at Nancy and realise I’ve been holding my breath. We shatter into gales of helpless laughter, roaring laughter and clutching each other. We’re fucking again before we can finish laughing: we’re on fire, the hottest creatures in creation. Nancy’s tits slide over mine and come to rest heaving against my shoulder as she reaches her hand between my legs. Sinking on her back in the deep soft mud she pulls me tight against her. Her firm insistent fingers slide through the slick mess that covers my pussy, pushing me, driving me, torturing me with how good it feels. She pins my clit under a steady relaxed stroke that’s going to carry me over the edge any second. The clay squishes and sucks at us.

“Did it turn you on to get caught with all your clothes off, Lissa? Sliding around in the mud?”

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck yes Nancy just don’t stop!”

“He saw me fucking you in the mudbath...”

And I don’t hear how she finishes because my orgasm blocks out the whole world. I shut my eyes and melt into Nancy’s warm slippery skin as wave after wave of wicked pleasure surges through me. Oh holy fuck.

***

“Nancy?”

“Hmmm?”

“You didn’t by any chance switch shovels with that poor boy on purpose, did you?”

We’re soaking in a hot bubble bath together again.
This time it’s taken three.

[emmajones1982au]

Billiant story!! thanks for sharing xx