Free ConneXions by Isabella LaPearl Page A

child was the ultimate sensation I could live through.  It was nothing to what you gave me, showed me, shared with me and still do.
    Thank you my love.

 
    Page | 5
     
    Lunchtime Interlude
    Once upon a time, a hundred years ago, I worked in an office in Auckland close to a public park, with hectares of beautiful trees, duck ponds and private areas to walk or sit.  Idylli c spots abounded where one could cop a squat to enjoy the ambiance and beauty of such a magnificent place, with spectacular views to the Hauraki Gulf and where the great volcanic conical snout of Rangitoto Island rises up from the sea.  On any given day there'd be yachts aplenty with brightly colored sails and depending on the wind, spinnakers flying free and high as the sunlight sparkled like diamonds upon the ocean blue to bedazzle the eyes of the viewer.
    A favored place, I loved going to the park during my lunch hour; lived for the chance to escape outside and went there daily, come rain or shine.  When it was warm, I'd be there in a quick five minute walk, sprawled on the grass, removing the wide-brimmed straw hat I donned.  My high heels and suit jacket, if there'd been a nip in the air, would come off next and lastly I’d let down my hair from the knot I normally kept it in at work.  It was my daily treat to just relax completely for forty minutes or so and veg out in my favorite spot where I'd eat my sandwich and read my book in peace.
    The place I chose was actually quite private and shady with trees on all sides.   It was just off the beaten track and gave me the perfect blend of privacy, sun, and shade.  It happened that it was also in a slight depression so that I was almost invisible to anyone passing as I lay there in the grass, unless you happened to walk on top of me.
    One rather memorable day, I'd been reading about Ayla and Jondalar from one of Jean M. Auel's marvelous books from a series about Earth’s Children and had reached the part where Jondalar was sharing a ceremony with Ayla and the Mother's Gift of Pleasures.  After peering around to be sure I was indeed alone, I immersed myself in the story once more and became stirred to excitement as the erotic scene unfolded in front of me.  I undid a couple of buttons on my skirt and reached through and beneath my panties to stroke myself.
    Lost in a world of my own, captivated by the words on the page that were vividly playing out in my mind .  Lying stretched out on my side, the book now casually discarded beyond my outstretched hand that flexed and grabbed at the grass.  I arched my neck back and closed my eyes to the shafts of sunshine that caught me in the face through the tree branches.  Panting softly, I felt the heat rise , my juices flow and surrendered to the fantasy and the sheer naughtiness of the moment.
    On the verge of climax, the sound of a zipper unraveling instantly startled me into awareness again.  I found myself staring into the eyes of a handsome young stranger about my own age.  He lay on the grass opposite and facing me, my straw hat tucked firmly under his arm.  Perhaps the light breeze had picked it up and flung it his way.  He'd slid a hand into his underwear, released his cock and was stroking himself slowly from crown to root and back again in front of me.
    Frozen, stilled into shock by his sudden appearance, I simply stared unsure in that moment what to do.  How could I not have heard his approach?  I remember the rising heat of the blush that flamed my neck and cheeks; how I couldn't breathe yet felt my heartbeat thundering madly in my veins.  My first instinct was panic, to flee; to leap to my feet and run off.  I’m laughing as I recall as I was a long distance runner in those days and what I lacked in speed, I made up for in stamina.
    But he just smiled at me, brought his fingers to his lips in a shushing motion then gazed to where my wet fingers still lay before moving lower and to the view beyond.  He licked his lips and he really