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A Sarratt StoryLiving on my own in London in my 20s after graduation from University I was lucky enough to meet (via a contact magazine) and have a relationship for several tears with Sarah, an older lady in her early 50s. Sarah was very much ‘in charge’ of our games and had a wicked and experienced imagination, which I was only too happy to go along with – the combination of her experience and my youthfulness was extremely sexually powerful, and much more fun than any girlfriends of my own age that I had.One Friday after work it had been arranged that I would go up to meet her for dinner; as ever it was made very clear why I had been invited, and so I hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything else. Sarah lived in a village called Sarratt, near the M25 in Hertfordshire, a nice quiet place just on the edge of the ‘Green Belt’. We had arranged to meet in one of illegal bahis the local pubs a bit later than normal, and by the time I got there it was after 9. Sarah was waiting for me at a quiet table by the window looking as ever stunningly made up and with a drink already on the table. We chatted away as usual, playing footsie and generally teasing and flirting, until Sarah said ‘There’s something I’d like you to do for me this evening’, and then pushed my a camera over the table. ‘Oh, and by the way, under my coat I’m starkers!’Sarah outlined her plan for the evening. We would leave the pub after dark, and then we would go for a walk around the village, where she would pose an flash while I captured the moment with the camera. It was all very risky, and very exciting – particularly when she went on to tell me that some of the places she wanted to pose were illegal bahis siteleri outside her friends’ houses. Last orders came at 11 o’clock and by this time we were both giddy with lust and excitement. We finished our drinks, Sarah went to the loo to get herself ready, and then off we went. She had our route all planned out; at each house she would pose either by the house name or number, or by her friends car registration plate. She would undo her buttons, I would get the camera ready, and then ‘flash!’, in every sense of the word! Under her black coat Sarah was wearing a pair of black heels, hold ups, and a black choker round her neck – good as her word, nothing else, which meant that her full figure with large boobs, generous belly and luxurious dark pubic hair was displayed to absolute perfection.The first few photos were a bit rushed, but as canlı bahis siteleri things got quieter and there was less chance of being disturbed we both got bolder, with Sarah cupping her breasts, leaning back making a provocative V sign with her fingers either side of her pussy lips, and generally getting off on being a complete show off. We went back to the pub car park and over to the Churchyard until eventually we were out of film. We walked back to Sarah’s house, by now so aroused that as soon as we were inside the door we were up against the wall fucking each others brains out, kissing wildly while she urgently bent her knees and stuffed my raging cock into her sopping wet pussy.A few weeks later we met up in the pub again ad Sarah passed me an envelope with the photos in. Some were a bit rushed and blurry, but there were lots of good ones too. I asked her what she was going to do with them and she said keep them herself tucked away, and then when she was meeting any of her friends have a little look and get a thrill from her wanton secret displays in their front gardens.I wonder what happened to them?