The Fountain Pill

It was Friday morning and it was sunny. The trees were just starting to bud and the tiny house sparrows and cardinals that lived in the neighborhood flitted and squabbled between the bare branches.

Sun poured through the windows and Mya and Tom sat at their kitchen table, which looked bright and happy with its blue-and-white checked tablecloth.

Mya was sitting forward in her chair, leaning her elbows on the table and scanning her husband's face.

He was sitting with his shoulders slumped and his eyebrows knit, his hands folded in his lap. He wore a loose white t-shirt and gray gym shorts, his brown hair laying haphazardly on his head, unkempt and about four weeks too long between haircuts. The stubble on his face was at least a day beyond a five-o-clock shadow, stray hairs standing out at odd angles at the corners of his jaw and curling down over his upper lip.

He was staring at the little white pill that sat on a small brown envelope on the table between them.

For several long seconds, neither Tom nor Mya spoke.

"Where did you get it?" Tom finally asked, without taking his eyes off the pill.

Mya hesitated. "I got it from Molly," she said finally.

Tom's eyes flicked to Mya's face and she felt her shoulders tense.

"Molly?" His voice was sharp. "You told Molly?"

Mya sat back in her chair.

"She's my best friend, Tom. I tell her lots of things."

Tom leaned forward on the table and his gaze turned back to the pill. "Now she's going to think I can't get it up or something."

"She doesn't think that," Mya said. "That's not what I told her."

"And anyway," she continued, "Molly wouldn't care even if she did think that. And who would she tell? She's half-way around the world."

Tom looked at his wife for a second then back to the pill.

"Well what did you tell her?"

"I told her the truth," Mya replied. "We were just talking. We talk about sex sometimes and... well she's my friend, so I told her we were having a little bit of trouble, that's all. And she was really sympathetic."

"And she thinks this will help?"

"If anyone would know, it's Molly," Mya replied.

"What is it?" Tom asked.

Mya paused again. "I don't know exactly," she said. Tom snorted in response.

"She didn't say what it was," Mya continued quickly, "just that it might help you... you know, get there."

Tom raised an eyebrow and exhaled heavily through his nose. There was a long silence as he sat staring at the little white pill on the table.

"It was just an idea," Mya said finally, pushing her chair away from the table. "You know Molly, she means well."

Tom didn't look up as Mya picked up her brown leather tote bag from the table and walked around behind his chair.

"You working today?"

"Yeah," he said, without looking up. "Just for the morning though. I have to finish reviewing these documents for the Paris client but I'll be finished in a few hours."

"Well," she said, "don't enjoy yourself too much while I'm gone."

"Mm," Tom said, eyes still on the pill and its little brown envelope. "Probl'y just watch television or something."

"Right." Mya sighed to herself.

"Do you want me to get rid of that?" she asked and paused when he didn't answer.

"I'll do it," he said finally.

Mya took her car keys off the hook on the wall.

"Okay. Well I'll see you tonight. Love you."

"You too," came his reply from behind her, as Mya closed the front door and strode down the walkway to her car.

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It was a short time later and Mya was lost in thought.

She was remembering the previous weekend, the feel of the floor digging into her knees through the towel she'd laid down and of the ache in her neck as she bobbed her head back and forth on Tom's cock, desperately working and willing it to orgasm. She remembered the feeling of Tom gently pushing her away from him and his thin smile as he picked her up off the floor and said "It's okay babe, I don't think it's going to happen tonight."

She remembered sitting on the edge of the bed with her hands clasped between her knees as Tom hugged her to him and suddenly feeling very, very naked.

"So anyway, the bathroom looks great, but we're going to have to replace all that tile. Do you think we could use that to negotiate the price down a little bit?"

Mya's attention snapped back to the furnitureless, sun-filled living room. Her voice echoed slightly off the bare walls and empty parquet floor. "Hm? Oh, the tile." She fixed her face into a practiced professional smile. "You know, it doesn't hurt to try. Let's add that to the list. Did you get a chance to see the laundry room yet? It's just this way."

She extended her arm in the direction of the laundry room and her clients, a pair of thin, bespectacled mid-thirty-somethings meandered past her toward the rear of the house, gawking at the moldings and the doorframes and the off-white paint on the walls.

The corners of Mya's mouth fell as she followed behind them. She thought again of her husband, of his promises to discuss the matter further with Dr. Ward (which he'd done), his efforts to exercise and eat healthy (which had been successful) and his determination to ease up at work and reduce his overall stress level (which is exactly what had happened).

"It's got nothing to do with you," Tom had said. He'd said it many times. And Mya knew it was true. But it didn't make her feel any better as she followed the bespectacled couple into the back of the house to see the laundry room.

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Mya's feet felt like lead weights when she got home. She'd taken the bespectacled couple to half-a-dozen houses that day and they just seemed to get more demanding as the day wore on.

She hauled her legs out of the car, then climbed out behind them and locked the car door. She heaved a sigh and slumped against the frame of the car as she saw her messenger bag still in the back seat, the ache in her knees and lower back suddenly feeling overwhelming. She left the bag in the car and made her way to the house.

When she opened the door, Mya was stopped in her tracks by an incredible aroma. After a moment of puzzling, she recognized the savory smell of roasting fowl and herbes de provence, sauteing mushrooms and hot butter. She heard the clatter of metal utensils against steel prep bowls and the dramatic strains of french opera. She slipped off her shoes and peered cautiously around the corner into the kitchen.

Tom was dressed in tight gray trousers that hugged his now-muscular legs and backside and a black polo shirt that showed off his chest and arms. Overtop, he wore the faded, frilly kitchen apron that they'd bought half as a joke on one of their first weekends away together. He stood in front of the stove surrounded by bowls and whisks and bottles of oil and jars of seasoning, a large cast-iron skillet sizzling and spitting in front of him. A bottle of wine stood open on the counter next to a pair of stemmed glasses, one of which was half-empty.

Tom turned around, saw Mya and smiled. His hair had been cut and now lounged with easy, stylish confidence over his handsome face. He'd shaved, and his beard now carefully traced his jawline instead of obscuring it behind neglected fuzz.

For a moment, Mya forgot about the aches in the soles of her feet.

"Ah!" he said. "Bon soir, ma belle! You are just in time." He grabbed the fuller of the two glasses of wine from the counter and slid gracefully across the kitchen floor in his socks to where Mya was standing. He pulled her to him and kissed her before pressing the glass of wine into her hand.

"Hello darling," he said. "How was work?"

Mya smiled and raised her eyebrows at her husband.

"It was... fine," she said. "I mean, no, it was terrible, but... fine. How was your day?"

"Oh you know," said Tom as he let go of Mya and turned back to the stove. "Worked for a bit, took a walk, got a haircut."

"Hey," he turned to face her again. "I figured we could maybe have a bit of a date night at home tonight."

Mya's smile broadened.

"That sounds... perfect," she said.

"Perfect," he said in a sing-song voice, then turned back around and prodded the merrily sizzling mushroom slices with his spatula. "Well good then, why don't you go get rid of your work clothes while I'm finishing up here? It'll still be another 20 or 30 minutes."

Mya walked to the stove and leaned her head on Tom's shoulder.

"That," she said, "is a good idea," she said. As she passed through the doorway into the hall, she noticed the kitchen garbage propped open. Among the potato peels and empty grocery store wrappers she saw a small, crumpled brown envelope.

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It was two hours later. The duck and the mushrooms had been rich and tender. The wine -- both bottles -- had been sultry and complex. They had started the meal sitting across from each other, but as the evening progressed Tom had moved his chair closer and closer to Mya's.

Mya's stomach had fluttered when she felt Tom's knee brush against hers under the table and when he lightly touched her elbow or her shoulder. Tom was animated and effusive -- moreso than she'd seen him in a long time -- and she felt lighter and lighter the more she laughed at his jokes and his teasing.

Tom talked with his hands and the closer he got, the more he emphasized his stories with a hand on Mya's shoulder or her knee. Eventually, Tom had pushed himself right next to her so that their knees were touching and he rested one hand on the back of her chair as he spoke.

The conversation itself had become more and more spirited and they were both rocking with laughter.

"Wait, wait, wait..." Tom said, covering his eyes with one hand in mock astonishment, "you're telling me that you two just walked into these people's yard and jumped in their pool? And you didn't know them at all?"

"No! I mean yes, we did do that and no, we didn't know them at all!" Mya could feel her face flush as she spoke. "Nobody was home, though."

"And you just happened to have your swimsuits?"

A mix of embarrassment and excitement tugged at the corners of Mya's eyes as she remembered the incident. She shook her head.

"No swimsuits? So what, just your underwear?" Tom was looking right at her now, his eyes widening and a suggestive smile spreading on his face.

Mya shook her head again.

"You jumped in naked?" Tom exclaimed.

"Molly did it first!" Mya quickly replied, "And I didn't want to just be left by myself!"

"I can't believe it," Tom leaned back in his chair.

Mya scrunched up her face. "Is that embarrassing?" She asked. "I feel like that's super embarrassing."

"Not at all, " Tom said, his voice softening. He leaned towards her.

"Actually," he said, his voice getting husky, "I'm just sorry I wasn't there to see it." His lips were soft and relaxed as he kissed her and Mya felt a tingle between her legs.

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When the two of them finally retreated to the bedroom, it was as though they were opposite poles of two very strong magnets.

Mya pulled Tom closer and she felt his hard cock pressing into her belly through their clothes. She felt him run his hands up her hips and along the sides of her body, felt the hem of her top slip up and over her head exposing her bra.

Mya pushed herself away from the wall and unclasped her bra, letting it fall off her shoulders and her breasts tumble out, bouncing slightly against her chest.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this ache for him.

She felt the smoothness and warmth of Tom's palms as he cupped her breasts in his hands, gasping as he circled her nipples. He growled low in his chest, a hungry, impatient sound and in one swift motion, slid his fingers into Mya's thick hair and pushed her back against the wall, pressing his mouth against hers and thrusting his tongue between her lips. She moaned and ground her pelvis against him. Her hands frantically gripped the hem of Tom's shirt, pulling it up over his chest and tossing it into a corner before reaching lower.

She scrabbled with his belt buckle until his pants fell open. She pushed them over the swell of his ass and reached down.

Tom's cock was as hot and as hard as she had ever felt it. She groaned and felt her wetness seep into her panties. Mya stroked his cock slowly, sliding his foreskin back and forth and letting her thumb brush feather-light over his frenulum.

Tom pulled away and Mya pressed her palms into the wall behind her as he knelt in front of her, quickly undoing the button on her jeans and sliding them down. She felt the cool air of the bedroom against her already slick pussy lips as her panties were peeled away and obediently stepped out of her pants until she stood naked in front of her kneeling husband.

She barely had time to look down at him before he plunged his face between her legs. She sucked in a breath and spread for him, then moaned as she felt his lips caress her, brushing lightly against the skin just above her clitoris.

She felt his wet, warm tongue slide between her lips and down towards her opening, its path made smooth and effortless by her wetness, before gliding back up and finding her clit. He circled it, gently at first, then more firmly. Mya groaned and buried the fingers of one hand in Tom's hair, keeping her balance on the wall with the other.

Suddenly, Tom was on his feet and Mya felt the room blur and roll as he swept her off her feet and onto the bed, climbing between her legs and positioning the head of his cock at her now puffy and soaking wet opening

Mya gasped as he slid his entire length into her in one, smooth motion. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he began to push in and out of her, slowly at first then harder and faster, gripping her hip with one hand as he held himself up with the other.

Mya wrapped her legs around her husband, aching to feel him even deeper inside of her. She started moaning again, almost surprising herself with her increasingly desperate sounds, until she was crying out for Tom to fuck her deeper, harder, to giver her his huge, hard cock. She felt her abdomen begin to tingle and tense as Tom increased his cadence, their hips making thick, wet slapping sounds as he thrust into her again and again.

Tom began to groan and grunt with each push and when Mya felt him grab a handful of her hair she knew he was getting close.

"Wait," she gasped, "not yet!"

Tom stopped abruptly, his cock still buried in Mya's cunt, and looked at her, breathing heavily.

"Here," Mya said, as she scrambled out from under him, "over here."

She slid off the bed and onto the floor, settled onto her knees and looked up plaintively at Tom.

"I want you to finish in my mouth, baby, please... cum in my mouth!"

Tom smiled and quickly moved to stand next to her, his throbbing cock standing at rigid attention just in front of Mya's face. She took it in her hand, felt its slick coating of pussy juice, smelled the sex on it. She slid her lips over the head and she could taste herself, her thick, slippery fluids with their musky tang, and pushed Tom's cock as far to the back of her mouth as she could. It felt huge in her mouth and she stretched her jaw around it as Tom groaned.

Mya held the base of Tom's cock with one hand as she bobbed her head to meet the gentle thrusts of his hips. She slid her other hand down between her legs, finding the wet, thick folds of her labia, then the little button of her clit and her fingers began to dance.

She began to moan around his cock, furiously rubbing her clit.

"Oh god, baby, I'm... I'm gonna..." moaned Tom and suddenly Mya felt his cock swell even larger then tasted the first deluge of cum. It pumped and spurted into Mya's eager and willing mouth, quickly filling it until cum leaked out around the seal of her lips and began to dribble down her chin.

Mya pulled away from Tom's cock, and a gush of cum poured out of her mouth before she could close it. He kept spurting, over and over, his semen splashing onto her chest and neck and stomach. She smelled the the salty, almost briny smell of semen as it mingled with the smells of pussy and sweat and sex. It kept cumming, a torrent like nothing she'd seen before, pouring out onto her as Tom bucked and moaned.

Suddenly Mya caught a flicker of movement from the corner of her eye and glanced to her right. She saw herself in the full length mirror mounted on their bedroom door. She saw her curly black hair, now disheveled and wild, saw her large, round breasts, and the crease of her hip where her legs folded underneath her and her hand pulsing between her legs. She saw herself as a kneeling, dripping cumslut wantonly masturbating as she was covered in a hot, wet mess.

Mya screamed as she came, arching her back, her pelvis and legs and belly clenching and grasping. She screwed her eyes tightly shut, still seeing the image from her mirror behind her eyelids, and squeezed her hand between her legs as the world disappeared and she could feel only intense, overwhelming pleasure.

Mya's muscles began to slacken as her orgasm receded. She slowly opened her eyes and saw Tom sitting on the bed staring at her with an open-mouthed smile. They locked eyes and Mya smiled back, as he collapsed back onto the bed, his cock still oozing cum out onto his leg in a slow, steady trickle. With a supreme effort, Mya pulled herself up and fell into bed next to him, rolling onto her back. She looked down at herself. There must have been a full quart of cum coating her body and as it cooled and thinned it began to drip down her sides and between her legs, tickling her swollen pussy lips and sliding across her ass to the sheets.

The two of them lay there together, breathing heavily, already dozing off, Mya dimly registering the feeling of Tom's hand holding onto hers and the sensation of being wet and warm and sticky.

"Please remind me to send Molly a thank-you card," Tom mumbled, and it was the last thing Mya heard before she fell into a deep sleep.

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When she awoke the next morning, Tom was already in the kitchen making breakfast and Mya was a mess of dried cum and sweat. As she'd stood under a hot shower, she thought back to the image in the mirror and felt her pussy instantly begin to tingle.

She would often think about that image in the days following. She thought about it when she rode her husband to loud mutual orgasms. And she thought about it when she lay awake at night quietly rubbing herself to smaller, quieter ones. While Tom never had much trouble getting off after that night -- and the date nights and dinners and passion became regular features of their lives -- he didn't cum like that again.

And satisfied though she was, Mya sometimes found herself yearning for another look at the dripping cumslut from the mirror.

Molly was delighted to hear all of it when Mya eventually confessed these things to her on one of their regular video calls.

"Well," Molly had said, "that is not entirely what I expected. I mean, I knew that's what Tom was in for, but didn't know it would have such an effect on you. Hm."

And Mya blushed and smiled a mischievous smile as Molly wrote something on a small piece of paper just off-screen.