In the garden with a banana

Zuzana Z. chose the garden that afternoon because the chill had driven everyone else indoors. Sunlight warmed her bare skin as she lounged in the wicker chair, legs parted, a bowl of fruit balanced on the cushion beside her. Juice from the last peach glistened on her fingertips; she licked it away and reached for the banana. Its yellow curve rested heavy in her palm, firm, slightly curved, almost suggestive. She peeled it slowly, the skin whispering down, then trailed the tip between her thighs. The first touch sent a shiver through her. She rubbed it along her slit, coating the fruit with the slickness that had started the moment she pictured her boyfriend’s cock. When she finally nudged it inside, her breath caught. Inch by inch the banana disappeared, stretching her in a slow, deliberate thrust. She worked it in and out, hips rolling to meet each push, free hand pinching a nipple until it stood tight and pink. The garden stayed quiet except for the wet sound of her cunt taking the makeshift toy and the soft, needy sounds that slipped past her lips every time the fruit bottomed out inside her.