Sanna

I’m forty years old, thrown on the 'scrap heap' of employment due in no little measure to my... how shall I say... my ability to understand the needs of the fairer sex. Husbands and thereafter employers did not take kindly to my attempts to engender 'savoir faire' between the sexes. I was, its true, on a one man mission.

So now, seeing kids safely across the road is my 'raison d'être', and I’m good at it. I have put the fear of hell and eternal damnation into any motorist that dares to speed, or otherwise make the lives of the kids uncomfortable, not only on the crossing but along the entire road, in this tiny urban corridor over which I have control during periods of the day. Many were the persuasive lectures I willingly gave to recalcitrant road users; oh yes, cyclists and pedestrians too.

SANNA

Sanna is the antithesis of me. Of Scandinavian descent, she is blonde, blue-eyed, pale-skinned and petite. Beside my six-two she is tiny at five-three, like a doll that could be carried to school in a kid's bag. When I first saw her my heart went boom and other parts of my anatomy competed for attention. She arrived out of the blue, a new teacher at the school outside of which I am a school crossing warden.

Each morning she brushes by me as I hold up my ‘STOP’ board to road users; motorists, cyclists and other alike. This morning I winked down at her and I was rewarded with a smile and a shake of that tight little tush as she bounced off on her high heels. Now, at the end of the school day I wait, all the kids have left but I wait to usher the little blonde across the road, for I have in mind to check out how willing she will be to a suggestion. As it turns out it is she that surprises me. Without a falter in her quick steps by me, she presses something into my hand and as she continues down the road, swings her butt with exaggerated movements like the best sensual movie star.

It is not until i return to my little apartment that i unfold my hand which is gripping the object that Sanna pressed there. A square of paper is revealed, I carefully and with anticipation unfold it, lying within is a small square of foil that contains something soft. I turn the foil over but there is nothing on the outside that gives a clue to what it holds. I read the note; ‘05 55 796’. That is all that is written there, until I turn open one of its flaps that has remained folded. In the same hand as the before is written;

‘If on this day he should make,

to be too bold is his mistake,

for the morrow shall be the day,

when he and she and ‘it’ shall play.’

Naturally I am intrigued, the number I recognise as a local telephone number but with three digits missing, am I supposed to guess the final three? The words “too bold” are obviously significant; I am not to try to establish the number? What about the foil package? So as not make it obvious I ‘feel’ it, and as there is little prospect of hiding what it contains, with excitement I establish that the foil encapsulates a ‘preserver’, a condom.  So as not to be at too much of an disadvantage I decide that in the confines of my apartment the little minx will not detect that I search the telephone directory for an ‘S’ of her first name. It is futile, she has been clever, there are too few digits in the number and too many S’s to ever discover her location.

 So now, this morning, I wait for her to appear because I intend to question her, to ask what this little game is all about, and what are her intentions. But she is way ahead of me, for as I wait at the school gates, after all the children have entered class and the parents have left, I see her, in a classroom; she nods in my direction and smiles briefly. This lady has my blood flowing, my libido rising, my brain racing and my excitement increasing. Her note said, 'on the morrow', that is today yet she has avoided me; deliberately or...?

During the day I have been unable to do the things I normally do, I cannot concentrate, my mind is trying to discover what it is that the pretty little blonde wants, it is exhausting yet exciting.

---

I stand at the side of the road this afternoon chatting idly with Anita my friend with whom I enjoy 'privileges'. She smiles a lot, those annoying all knowing smiles, does she know? Is she in league with Sanna? Then the blonde appears and Anita scuttles off as if at a given signal.

Instead of crossing the road where I control the traffic, Sanna walks down the road from the school, as she reaches a small trash bin she lifts the lid, looks straight at me and carefully places what appears to be a folded piece of paper in the lid. Once again the blonde looks straight at me and smiles.

As soon as I have discharged my duties at the crossing place I make haste to the trash bin that in my mind has been growing in prominence until it is virtually the only object I see. My heart has pounded each time anyone gets near it for fear they will see and take the treasure, my treasure, hidden there.

Opening the lid I reach for the white square of paper, I pause with my fingers gripping it, before finally releasing it from its cache. With my heart pounding like that of a teenage man whose fingers have finally reached the moist warmth of his young girlfriend's crotch, my trembling fingers unfold the note.

'Wary be of words that warn,

for to the stocks he shall be borne,

if he should cross the verdant swath;

or a missed opportunity he shall mourn.

Let it be from here to there,

in wooden confines if he dare,

a consummation of the pair,

he, and she of golden hair.'

Jeeez! I am a simple man! What does it mean? I unfold another flap to reveal three digits; 777. Do I now have the whole of a telephone number; 05 55 796 777? Yet another folded corner of the note has written on it, 19:00, it looks like a time. I am desperate now, I am sweating, I am in a state of panic. I must understand what it is that I have to do, but how? I am driven by the only words that seem to make sense; 'a consummation of the pair, he, and she of golden hair'. The 'pair' has to be, please the gods, me making love to Sanna.

I wait until the hour that I believe is meant by the '19:00' of the note then dial the number on my landline. Despairing when it continues to ring, I am about to admit failure when a male voice bursts into my ear; "Hello? This is a public telephone, you must have dialled the wrong number... hello?"

I am stunned and am barely able to answer, "Yes, yes! Don't go, tell me where you are... please." My voice has the sharp edge of desperation.

"Oh hello, okay, well, it’s at the green, opposite the Golden Lion public house of course... you know." The man states, as if I could possibly know where he is.

"Right, must go, it's going to rain and there's a pint of beer with my name on it in the bar, cheerio." he chuckles.

As I yell, "But which fucking village...” I hear a click that appears so loud as to burst my eardrums as the line is cut at the other end.

I am on the edge of despair, my mind clouded by panic. But suddenly the cloud parts and the brilliant light of hope shines through. Of the many jobs I have had, one has given me the knowledge of how to acquire information from a telephone number. Firing up my trusty laptop computer I type in a URL and wait in expectation; why is it, when one is pressed for time that inanimate objects become recalcitrant and moody? Finally I am in and all is working as expected, I steal a glance at my watch; 19:15. Success, I am able to login with an old password, then punch into the search field the number ‘796 777 05 55’ and  hold my breath, muttering to myself, “please the gods” over and over. As a new screen is displayed I leap in the air and yell and whoop at the top of my voice; there in front of me is the location of the public phone that I called moments ago. It is now 19:38, am I late, there is no way of knowing.

---

As I enter the village my speed is a little too high and as I brake to stop at the public telephone the car skids on loose gravel, knocking over a small sign. Hurriedly I search the area of the telephone for a message but there is none; now what do i do? I read the note again, but it still makes no sense.

I realise that to onlookers I appear a vandal so I move to put up again the small sign that I knocked over. As I push it down into the grass the words painted on it register in my slow brain; ‘Do Not Walk On The Grass’. The note in my pocket reads, ‘Wary be of words that warn’, of course!  What an idiot… and; ‘if he should cross the verdant swath’, the green grass! If I walk on the grass shall I be thrown into the stocks? Where are they? I solve one part of the mystery only for the rest to become more undecipherable. ‘From here to there’… here is by the telephone but where is there, is it across the grass… it must be.

On the far side of the grass area are only two buildings The Golden Lion public house and a cottage overgrown with nature’s green arms of a creeper that will before too long take the abandoned building into its deadly clutches. Is it to the ‘pub I should go, if so why am I directed to break a local request not to tread on the grass, when it would be so easy just to walk around? So what if once, a pair of shoes desecrates this hallowed turf? After only moments the blades of green will return to the upright and evidence of my passing will be all but totally erased. 

I am a man, a big man, fearing very little so why do i hesitate? Has the blonde minx and her words brought upon this trepidation? One foot falls onto the green swath, then the other, my eyes seeking any further clues that might be hidden there but there are no such clues. As I reach the other side I look up, I am facing directly between the ‘pub and the forlorn cottage, and almost hidden between them is my goal, there, is the ‘there’ of her words on the note.

Unseen from any other angle is a small wooden building set so deeply in vegetation that only a person of my height would notice it. With no obvious path before me I push through the bushes and brambles, thorns tear at my clothes. Then I am at a doorway surrounded in green creeper, there is a knocker on the door and under it a note. From it I read;

From light to dark he must perform,

before inside he will be borne.

He who has dared to flout a rule

must prove that he is not a fool;

for his cloth she does insist

of it all he shall divest,

If as upon this world he came,

then he shall all entry gain.

Tied to the door knocker is a long silk scarf. Now I am becoming attuned to her thoughts, this blonde minx, this woman of infinite tease. She requires that I blindfold my eyes then strip naked on her doorstep before allowing me to enter. The final words on this last note burn into my mind’s eye so that now that I can no longer see, the words appear as if projected onto the darkness; ‘then he shall all entry gain’. Am I right to guess, to assume, that by ‘all entry’ she encourages me to believe that not only shall I enter her wooden portal but also the portal of flesh at the conjunction of her thighs, and possibly more?

As my pants drop to the floor and I step out of them, my ears made sensitive by the lack of the sense of sight, detect a small sound and I feel a movement of air as the door opens. Slim fingers wrap around my flaccid phallus and gently tug, leading me in from the cool of the exterior to the warmth of the building.

The smells here are delicious; perfume and joss-sticks; mix with that the warmth of slim fingers rippling as they tug at my penis leading me deeper into the room, and blood begins to flow, so that my member begins to increase in thickness, in length and in heat. There is to my heightened senses an almost imperceptible aroma, one to which I have long been partial. The woman standing close to me is transmitting to my sensitive nostrils a message of her desire. I have discovered that many, if not the majority of females are totally unaware that they effuse the musk of their arousal before even they are aware that they are truly aroused. I have used this knowledge and sensitivity many times to my advantage.

In my darkness I slowly spread out my arms in order to determine if the female is naked but she is too clever and evades me. Then at my buttocks I feel the warmth of her skin, at my back the coolness of breasts; she is naked. My right hand sneaks between our bodies and reaches to cup the prize between her thighs; she is hot; she has that slight bloom of a raised libido that precedes the flow of juices. She allows the hand’s intrusion but when a finger attempts to infiltrate the closure that covers her passage, she moves. With the movement goes my blind fold, I blink in the dim light of many flickering lamps.

Some steps away from me now, Sanna stands erect, feet apart, hands held lightly at her buttocks, her magnificent breasts held proudly high, there is a slight swell at her belly  and her rear curves tightly above shapely legs made more curvy by the white high heels on her feet; she is magnificent. I move to step toward her but with a slight movement of her head i am told to stand where I am.

Sanna now walks around me, inspecting, proding here and there with a finger, then, standing before me she bends at the waist to see better my genitals, moving aside my cock with the back of outstretched fingers, raising my balls, again with the back of her fingers. She nods in approval.

Against one wall stands a structure in the form of a giant 'X', it is constructed of wood and from it hang ties of silk; I am directed to stand in front of it. By her own actions Sanna informs me that i am to form an 'X' with my body and to stand close to the wooden one.

When I am in place she moves to tie my ankles to the wood. Then she pulls from the either side of wooden cross dowels that allow her to climb to a height to tie my wrists. Climbing with one foot either side of my body, her nakedness is pressed to mine, her breasts caress my body, her crotch pauses as it reaches my cock and teases it. At the height to tie my wrists her breasts press to my face and slide teasingly either side until my face is buried. i kiss and lick whatever I am able, while I am able. On her descent, her face presses against mine and briefly her mouth covers mine in a sensuous, kiss.

Now back on the floor Sanna grasps my cock, first in one hand then the other, she strokes it using alternate hands then judges its erection by letting go, and she nods with approval. Dropping to her knees the blonde looks up at me and moves her lips to kiss the tip of my penis then slowly begins to suck its length into her mouth. I am of good length yet this temptress swallows my cock in its entirety, then proceeds to masturbate it with just her mouth. Soon saliva drools from her mouth and drips to run over her knees then to the floor. All of this is new to me, and although exciting I am able to resist from displaying sexual emotion.

Satisfied that my cock is as she wants Sanna stands and turns her rear toward me. Within a foot from my cock she bends at the waist presenting her ass to me. Feet apart she reaches to grasp my tool and places the head at her vulva. She draws in a breath and with one swift and hard movement impales her vagina onto my cock until her ass strikes my groin.

The air rushes from my lungs in a loud and deep grunt, the blonde turns her head and grins. Rocking forward on those high heels she denudes my staff of its tight, hot sheath, then once again impales herself on it, my balls slap her ass and my cock throbs at this attack. There she waits until she feels no more throbs then manipulates the internal muscles of her vagina in a pulsing action the feel almost like she is wanking it with her channel.

My senses are unused to this action and despite my best efforts, after five minutes of her fucking my cock, I feel my balls protesting to be allowed to pump pent-up seed to my cock. I resist as long as i am able then as I am about to give in Sanna reaches to her pussy and rubs hard at her clit. The sensation of her subsequent orgasm is stupendous as wave after wave of contractions masturbate my erection. I use every technique I know to prevent my ejaculation; I insist on cumming when I decide!

But my blonde Scandinavian goddess is not finished with me yet. Turning and once again on her knees her sensual mouth envelops my phallus, her eyes fix on mine, they sparkle with mischief. In other circumstances I would claim that now I am fucking her face but it is she that mouth fucks my cock. To add to this her hand grasps firmly around my tool and masturbates it in coordination with her lips, the thumb presses on the urethra in a milking action. The other hand cups my sac and manipulates my balls.

I vocalise the impending ejaculation with a mighty roar, as I do Sanna takes my cock as deep into her throat as possible, and my ejaculate pumps down her throat. She smiles briefly while sucking me dry, allowing some of my product to overflow her lips and dribble over her chin then slide down to her breasts.

The blonde stands and climbs the ladder again dragging her coated breasts over my body. Reaching my head she places her sweet lips over my mouth and as I share with her my tongue, in return she shares with me my juices. We kiss with a fever, with a passion, the like I have never before experienced.

What does this goddess plan for the rest of the night?