Pissing On The Lemon Tree

How did it all start? Opening that second bottle of wine probably had something to do with it. Neither Tom nor Mandy had started off with the intention of opening another bottle of wine. They had already consumed the contents of one bottle of Pinot Grigio. But it was a perfect early-summer evening and... well....

'I think there's still an open bottle in the fridge,' Tom said. 'Probably enough for a small glassful each.'

Mandy smiled. 'You'll be getting me tiddly,' she said. 'But why not? Do you realise that tonight has been the first night that it has really been warm enough to eat out here in the summer house since last summer?'

'Yes. I suppose it has been,' her husband said.

Tom got up from the small table -- where they had just enjoyed a casual supper of grilled chicken with Tuscan bread-and-tomato salad with lots of home-grown basil -- and made his way across the neatly mowed lawn to the door that led to the kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned.

'Sorry. It must have been my imagination,' he said. 'We seem to have drunk the last of the white. We'll have to have a small glass of red instead.'

Tom cracked the seal of the Argentinian Pinot Noir he was carrying and poured a generous slosh into each of their glasses. 'Bonne chance,' he said, raising his glass.

'Oh? Do I need good luck?' Mandy asked.

'I think everyone needs a bit of luck, don't they?' Tom said.

'I suppose so,' Mandy said. And she too raised her glass.

And then Tom frowned. 'Damn.'

'Damn?'

'Yes. I... umm... meant to have a pee,' he said.

'That's OK. You can pee on the lemon tree,' Mandy told him.

'The lemon tree?'

'The lemon tree. A bit of piss is supposed to be good for them.'

'Oh? Says who?'

'I read it somewhere,' his wife said. 'Can't remember exactly where. In a magazine I think.' And she laughed. 'Come on. I'll give you a hand.'

Tom looked at his wife and smiled. 'A hand? Thank you. I may be getting old, but I don't think I've quite reached the stage where I need help to pee. Do I?'

'Maybe not. But it will be better with my help,' Mandy told him.

'Are you sure?'

'Certain,' she told him. And she led Tom from the summer house before he had a chance to say anything further on the matter.

'Zipper... down!' Mandy said, as she lowered his zip. 'Cock... out! And let the fun begin.' For a moment or two, they stood there, in front of the lemon tree, with Mandy holding Tom's cock. 'Yes? No? A change of plan?' she said, suddenly sounding more than a little disappointed.

'It... umm... sometimes takes a moment or two these days,' Tom said. And then the flow began. At first it was little more than a trickle. But then, after a stuttering start, the flow began to increase.

'Nice,' Mandy said. And she nodded approvingly. But nothing lasts forever. 'Yes. Nice,' she said again, as the stream from Tom's cock slowed to a dibble. 'Very... umm... sexy. What do you think? Was that fun?'

'Sexy? Umm... yes. I suppose it was,' Tom said with a grin.

'Good. Because I certainly enjoyed it. We should do it more often.'

Tom laughed. 'For the benefit of the lemon tree?'

'Oh, fuck the lemon tree,' Mandy said. 'For the benefit of me. There's something about pissing outdoors. As I say... very sexy. Don't you think? Especially when I'm holding your cock.'

'That's about all it's good for these days. Pissing.'

'These things happen,' Mandy said with a little smile. 'You're not the only guy in the country who's... well... slowing down. And we can still have fun. We can still find ways to be naughty.'

Tom laughed. 'There was a girl at university -- many, many years ago -- who used to line up with the rest of us guys behind the pub.'

'So that she could hold your cocks?'

'No, no. She used to stand facing the wall, along with the rest of us, then she would spread her piss flaps, and... well... let fly. No girlie squatting required for Dory.'

Mandy nodded. 'Oh, yes. I used to like doing that. Want to see?'

Tom laughed again. But Mandy didn't really need an answer. She unfastened her shorts, let them drop to the ground, and deftly kicked them in Tom's direction. 'Here, you look after these,' she said. And then she did the same with her knickers. 'Ready?' she asked.

Tom grinned but nodded. And, as Mandy directed her own stream, the lemon tree was watered for the second time that evening.

When Mandy was finished -- well, finished for the time being anyway -- Tom went to hand her back her shorts. But Mandy shook her head. 'First I need you to tidy me up,' she said.

'Tidy you up?'

'Lick up the last few drops. I think I might enjoy that. You might do too.'

Tom looked at her. And then he nodded. 'OK. Why not?' he said. And he gently pushed his wife back into the summer house. 'Perhaps if you sit on the edge of the table,' he said. 'And perhaps I should use a chair. Getting old is not for people with wonky knees.'

Again, it was fun. What started out as a quick tidy-up turned into a full-on tonguing and finger fuck. And, yes, if her vocal accompaniment was anything to go by, it was evident that Mandy did enjoy it. (There were certain advantages to be had from living some distance from one's nearest neighbours.)

'Would you like your shorts back now?' Tom asked when they had returned to sipping their wine.

'Thank you. But not just yet,' Mandy said. 'I'm rather enjoying having the evening breeze wafting across my naked snatch. Well, naked save for my profuse bush. Obviously. You might like to try it.'

'Alas, I don't have a snatch,' Tom said. 'Naked or otherwise. And, as I said, my cock is not as reliable as it once was. But it's good that you seem to be having a revival.'

For a moment or two, Mandy looked down at her hairy mound. 'Yes,' she said. 'I'm not sure what has brought that on. But, still, long may it continue.'

'Enjoy it,' Tom said. 'Make the most of it while you can.'

Mandy smiled. 'Perhaps we should try a full-on golden shower,' Mandy suggested. 'I've never done that.'

'No. Me neither,' Tom said. 'To be honest, it's not something I've even thought about. But... well... who knows?'

'Who knows indeed?' his wife said.

Later, when Mandy and Tom had shut up the summer house for the night, returned to their real house, and were preparing for bed, Tom returned to the matter of Mandy's apparent mid-life libido revival. 'Perhaps we should see if we can find you a toy boy,' he said.

'A toy boy? Oh? Are you abandoning me?'

'Not at all. I'm just thinking that you might like... you know... a bit on the side.'

'You mean...?'

'Just a fuck. Just someone with a more reliable cock. I'm not talking romance. Just purely for sex.'

Mandy laughed. 'And who did you have in mind?' she said.

'I didn't,' Tom said. 'But... you know. Just something to think about.'

Mandy smiled. 'Are you serious?' she said.

'I think I am. It's certainly something to think about.'

For a moment Mandy said nothing. And then she smiled. 'Janice has a secret toy boy,' she said.

'Although clearly not a very well kept secret,' Tom said.

Mandy smiled. 'Not a very well kept secret?'

'Well, it would seem that you know about him.'

Mandy laughed. 'Janice may have had one glass of wine too many. And, anyway, it's a woman thing. Even secrets have to be told to one other person.'

'And who would you tell?'

Mandy thought for a moment. 'I think I'd probably have to tell you.'

'Probably?'

'Well... definitely.'

'All the details?'

'That would probably be up to you. Would you like all the details?'

For a while Tom stared up at the ceiling. Then he nodded. Slowly. 'Yes. I think I probably would,' he said.

'OK. All the details it shall be.'

'Does Henry know all the details? About Janice and her toy boy?'

'I'm not sure,' Mandy said. 'Henry has his golf.'

That night, neither Mandy nor Tom bothered with any pyjama pants. 'Unfortunately, I don't think I'm going to be able to get hard enough for full penetration,' Tom said. 'But perhaps a bit of mutual masturbation?'

'It has already been a busy night,' his wife said with a broad smile. 'But I'd definitely be a starter for another round of busy fingers.'

Tom just smiled again and nodded.

* * *

The following day also started out warm, but it was not the clear summer-breeze day that Monday had been. While Tom and Mandy were still on their first cup of coffee of the day, a bank of cloud rolled in from the southwest and what should have been a clear day turned a bit murky and uncomfortably muggy.

'I think it's probably going to rain,' Tom said. 'However, that may be no bad thing. It'll clear the air a bit.'

'Are we still going for a walk?'

'Perhaps a bit later in the day.'

A couple of times it did start to rain. But in both cases it stopped again almost before it had begun. And then, at about three-thirty in the afternoon, the cloud suddenly just melted away. 'Well... that seems to be it,' Tom said, scanning the horizon. 'For today, anyway. All that cloud for half a cup of precipitation.'

'So time for a walk?' Mandy suggested.

'Why not?' her husband said.

'Where do you want to go?'

'I don't know. Abbott's Wood perhaps?' Tom suggested. 'And then back past the quarry?' And they headed for Abbott's Wood. But they had only travelled about three-quarters of the way along the bridle path that led to the woods when Tom stopped and held out a hand, palm up. 'Oops,' he said. 'Perhaps the quarry will have to wait for another day.'

Many frowned quizzically. And then she too held out a hand. 'Ah. Yes,' she said. 'We probably should have brought an umbrella.'

Without further discussion, the two of them turned and headed, briskly, back in the direction of home

'We could head for the shelter of those horse chestnuts,' Tom said. 'But I suspect we'll be drowned before we get there. At least it's not cold.'

By the time the reached home again, they were, indeed, more than a little damp. But the rain had stopped almost as quickly as it had started.

'Typical,' Mandy said.

'I'll go and make us a jug of Pimms,' Tom told her. 'And I'll grab a couple of towels. Go and make yourself comfortable in the summer house.'

When Tom arrived to join Mandy at the summer house, his wife was stark naked and her clothes were draped over one of the chairs. Tom handed her a tall glass of Pimms and a towel.

For a woman who would not see 60 again, naked Mandy was certainly a sight to behold.

'Yes... well, that's certainly one way to deal with damp clothes,' Tom said.

Mandy laughed. 'Try it,' she said. 'I can thoroughly recommend it.'

Tom hesitated. But not for long.

'Better?' Mandy asked, as Tom added his damp garments to his wife's collection, and then re-arranged his limp cock.

'It is.' And he raised his glass in a toast. 'To daily exercise.'

Mandy laughed.

For 20 minutes or so, naked Tom and Mandy sipped their drinks and chatted about nothing in particular. Even after more than 30 years together, they were seldom at a loss for things to discuss. And then Tom had a question. 'Since you seem to be the citrus-growing expert...,' he said, nodding in the direction of the lemon tree.

'Expert? I wouldn't call myself an expert,' Mandy told him.

'Well... more of an expert than me. I didn't even know that you were supposed to pee on lemon trees.'

Many laughed. 'Well, now you do.'

'But I still don't know how often one is supposed to pee on them. I mean... is it OK to pee on them two days in a row? Or should I go back to the house and use the loo in the bathroom?'

'Oh? Do you need to pee?'

'I do.'

'I think two days in a row should be OK,' Mandy said. 'In fact, I'm sure it will be OK. Providing, of course, that I'm holding your cock.'

'In which case, it's just as well that I have you at hand -- so to speak,' Tom said. And he got up from his chair and went and stood in front of the lemon tree. Mandy followed Tom's lead. And then she took her husband's cock in hand.

'Unless I am mistaken, your cock seems to be a little excited at the prospect,' she said.

'You think so?'

'I do,' she said. And Mandy 'weighed' Tom's cock in the palm of her hand. 'Yes.' And then she stood between Tom and the lemon tree. And spread her feet slightly. And then, after spreading her luscious piss flaps with her left hand, she wiped the head of Tom's slightly fattened cock along her warm cuntal valley. Once. Twice. And then a third time. 'Ready?' she said.

'You want me to piss on your cunt?' Tom asked.

'On my cunt. In my cunt. Just when you're ready.'

'You're the expert,' Tom told her.

'Oh, fuck, yes,' Mandy said as her husband's piss began to flow. And then she let go her own stream. 'Piss play,' she said, when she had drenched Tom's cock and balls.

'Piss play?'

'Yes. That seems to be the unofficial term,' she said. 'There are whole websites devoted to it.'

'And you know this how?'

'I've been doing some research,' Mandy said. 'I've book-marked a few of the more interesting sites. I'll show you after supper.'