A flash, he winced as her hands, through the towel, felt the rippled muscle of his stomach. A thought crossed her mind, is he gay?
Another blinding flash, it lit up the dark room. She understood, "you don't like lighting." He looked away-embarrassed, his blue eyes, frightful.
Cold drops of water landed on her feet, looking down, she saw his shorts soaked. "Your going to catch cold." His shorts were pulled down, she helped him step out. Her eyes feasted on his size, his soft size, thinking how much bigger it would become. Liz stood, they stared into each others eyes. She could still see his fear, but she liked how his gaze was burning. "I 'll put these in the wash room." As she turned, his hand pulled loose the knot of her robe. She let it fall down her body as she went to the other room.
The door blew open when she came back. The hardness at seeing her tone naked body fell as white light filled the sky. Liz slammed the door and locked it. She saw him winching as a fabulous bolt tore across. She yanked the curtains closed.
The towel was big enough so they could dry each other. Her breasts and stomach were splattered with rain. His groin and ass were damp from the pool. They kissed, passionately, comforting, their tongues embracing before he winches again.
Liz holds him, he is close to tears, shaking. The storm is so intense, she becomes scared. But in his arms, she takes comfort, and gives it. She kisses him softly, feeling him quiet when she does.
He's much calmer, and so hard. Everywhere her fingers touch, there is strength. In between her legs, she feels engorged steel. She rubs herself on it, heat building, wetness coating it. His fingers burn her skin. His mouth sucks her aching nipples. She moves herself faster on him, deep growls and whimpers mix in her. Their arms wrap around, so close, skin on skin. She rubs, faster and harder, his sex rising up to her.
She grips the back of the couch, her body tenses, then locks. A deep release, she moans blissfully, her body twitching.
Her rub slows gently, her orgasm still running its course. Deep shakes, cum slow, like thick syrup, dripping out of her vagina. Her mouth forms a perfect o, surprised at the strength of her orgasm.
"I want to taste you," he whispered.
Liz standing, the gardener sitting, she bends her knees, hands on his head. His tongue goes wild, tasting, licking, invading her womanhood. His hands squeeze her perfect ass, bringing her forward to his mouth. Her fingers curl his hair, moving him forward into her. Her legs shake, she bites her lower lip. Toes stand on end, a rushing of warmth-heat, like before, but stronger-urgent. Liz breathes heavy, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She tries to say it, nothing. She's shaking harder, feeling his tongue do unspeakable things-until...until...blood from her lower lip enters her mouth. Cum enters Jim's. Her body spasms, sweat runs down her back. Waves of pleasure make her giddy.