Such community work led to lunches and dinners, in which he had to go to; she had told him that she felt embarrassed as other husbands were also involved in community and social work. The hind was that to make her more acceptable he also had to get involved.His job was to landscape around a back fountain that had been out of action for ages; clean it up and its surrounds. The back section was surrounded by a high stone wall but in the corner was an iron gate, that surprisingly wasn't locked, just bolted. It led out onto a gravel road which the refuge trucks used to take away what wasn't wanted.He was getting weary of the volunteering work for he quickly found out the workers were exploited, the council didn't even supply a lunch, let along a morning tea, you supplied that your self, they wanted work done but were not ready to pay to have it done, the good old volunteer would do it for free – COME IN SUCKER.He finished his lunch and had returned to work, he didn't hear the woman. Her face, round with the gentle fleshiness of womanhood, its aristocratic line of a nose and full, tempting mouth, schooled itself into an alluring pose of feminine knowledge. A sense of mystery and timelessness shone from forest-colored eyes. That ripe, full-figured body tempted him, distracting him from his work. The copper hair rained down past her shoulders and over her pendulous breasts as lava rained down a mountain. A bright red apple balanced upon an outstretched palm. Dougray tried vainly to see her as line, color and texture. The only line he could see was the deep cleft between her bountiful breasts, the only color was the blush-pink of her arousal when they made love, and the only texture being the silken temptation of her skin. A feral smile revealed the dainty white teeth and sharply pointed canines. Those teeth had fed several hours earlier. “Alexa, please. Less fang, more smile,” he cajoled. He was growing ever more frustrated and more aroused with each passing.
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