The Indoor Fountain

It was still day light when we arrived home, both drenched, having been caught in the rain whilst looking at sundews. Martina had to have proof that sundews existed in Australia and I'd taken her to see them. It was a lovely way to spend a day of our holiday, and best of all we could afford it.

We had lingered there, perhaps a little too long, and tested the globules of digestive juices that clung to the leaf hairs with our fingers. It had been fun watching her as she tentatively leaned forward, stretched her finger out and withdrew it, with a shriek so fast after she had touched.

I wasn't sure that it was her main interest, as she bent down to touch her shirt hung low and I was able to see the contents inside. Certainly, she wore a black bra and her breasts seemed very willing to escape their imprisonment as they bulged above her bra. She had taken some photos of the sundews, selecting the ones with the best flowers and one of me as I looked on.

The run to the car had been fun too, her squeals of delight and our laughter- we both knew we were going to be drenched. We watched each other as we ran. Her breasts catapulted around inside her shirt and I had the impression that she was checking that I was watching. When we finally got to the car she announced,

"Look at me! I'm soaked!" and indeed she was. Her shirt, stuck to her bra, had become transparent and I could see her bra through it. To emphasize the point, her breasts seemed to be thrust forward provocatively. I quickly kissed her cheek as I turned the key in the ignition. First dates are always awkward I find.

Arriving home the first thing I did was light the fire, it's always set ready. She sat and watched. I found clothes she could wear but she hesitated with the offer.

"Tea or coffee?"

"Coffee please, white with none."

I didn't take long. When I returned she was still in the chair some distance from the fire and shivering. I found a blanket and spread it on the floor in front of the fire and suggested that she sit close to the warmth as I loaded the fire with wood.

"Good idea," she said as she sat on the blanket, making herself comfortable. We both watched the fire as we drank our coffee. I suddenly remembered the marshmallows I had in the kitchen, and together we stuck them on wire and held them in the fire to cook. She laughed when I dropped one and we watched it sizzle. I kissed her cheek again and this time she turned to me and quickly I kissed her lips. We were both still wet but the room was warming up so I took off my shoes and socks and left them near the fire to dry. Then I took off my jumper and draped it over a chair to dry.

She watched without comment but stuck another marshmallow on her wire and held it to cook in the fire.

"Some wine would be good," I offered.

"Yes, I was thinking the same thing. Do you have a red that isn't too dry?" I wasn't sure but I went and got my two bottles of red and some glasses.

"This one!" she chose. I opened it and poured. "Good wine," she said," I don't like the ones that skin my oesophagus," she giggled. I grabbed some cushions off the lounge and together we lay back, feeling comfortable. Then she sat up again. There was a slight hesitation before she took off her jumper. She leaned over and draped it on the nearby chair. She sat for a moment looking into the fire. I sat too and loaded more wood into it. She sat, cradling her wine and sipping it.

When no more wood could go in I closed the heater door and picked up my wine. She leaned towards me and kissed my cheek. I was a little surprised. She sat, looking into the fire as it sent licks over the new wood. I returned the kiss. My shirt was still wet. I started to undo the buttons. She watched, smiling as her eyes followed my fingers. Her look was approving as I peeled the shirt off. When I reached to get the shirt I'd offered her she put her hand on my shoulder and said

"It's ok, it's warm enough without it," and she quickly kissed my lips. She took another sip of wine, placed her glass on the floor and turned to face me.

Without a word she slowly started to undo the buttons on her shirt. She watched my eyes as I watched her peel her shirt off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. I kissed her, my lips finding hers and sat back to enjoy as she intended. It was a wonderful experience of sightseeing, not quite knowing but realizing the capacity for surprise.

One of her hands went behind her back and her bra retracted. She was biting her lip as one hand now held her bra to her breasts and the other pulled a strap off her shoulder. With one arm free she changed hands so that she still held the cups to her breasts and freed her other arm of its strap. Then with each hand holding a cup she lowered them, slowly revealing her breasts to me. They were beautiful with large dusky pink areolas and well defined nipples. I leaned forward and kissed her again.

She smiled broadly and sat indicating that she was waiting. I lay back on the rug and pulled my belt undone. She watched carefully as I undid the button on my pants, pulled the zip down and arched my back as I slid my pants to my knees. Her eyes didn't follow my pants; they were staring at the erection under my jocks, an erection that was testing the elastic at the top of my jocks. She bit her lower lip again as I kicked my pants away.

I put my thumbs inside my jocks to remove them, she reached to catch my hand and stopped me. Her eyes were on mine, she leaned forward, kissed me and sat again. Both hands reached towards me, her fingers went under the elastic of my jocks and slowly she stretched them away from me and lowered them. She watched my cock throb as she slowly exposed it. I lifted my hips as she pulled my jocks down. When my jocks were at my knees I kicked them off.

She reached again and held my cock, feeling its warmth and the soft skin over the hardness. She gathered my balls in her hand, feeling them, their roundness incomplete. With both hands she separated them for comparison as she sucked in her lower lip. Her hands returned to my cock, one hand above the other and she stroked it as it throbbed. One stroke, two, three, four, five strokes, I counted as she felt the skin glide over the solid core underneath. I started to murmur my dissent, worried that I'd lose control. Did she realize that this tourist exhibit is interactive?

Martina smiled and as she bit her lower lip, with both hands she started to stroke me purposefully. One hand left my cock, the other slowed as she put a hand under my knee indicating I should lift it. I raised both my knees and her hand pushed them apart, indicating I should spread them wide. She watched as my balls moved in their sack. She picked up the tempo and stroked me in earnest. It didn't take long, the first spurt sprayed over my belly.

"Oh!" she squealed with delight and the next spurt squirted over my shoulder.

"Mmmmm!" she said as the next spurt decorated my belly. She giggled as she watched the semen fly and continued to stroke till there was no more. Still holding my cock she watched as it warped into wrinkles and my balls did their little tricks of adjustment. When there was no more she leaned over, kissed me and said,

"Beautiful! Thank you!" Then she lay down beside me and held my hand.

"You know, people travel all over the world to see a fountain. Aren't we lucky we have a better one here! I think we'll work on making it run regularly over the holiday." She giggled and her breasts rippled as we contemplated our coming tour itinerary.