Hothouse Orchids

From the corner of the greenhouse where he inspected his varied collection of orchids, Cal watched Laura work. She was efficiently filling the bottom third of three dozen hanging baskets with polystyrene in preparation for repotting the Rhynchostylis, a portion of the orchids they were busily preparing for the wedding of Cal's niece the following spring.

His sister had asked for a large variety of blooms. As a result, Cal had spent even more time than usual in his greenhouse, preparing pink and white Miltoniopsis, and waxy Angraecum leonis, among others.

"Let me help you out over here," he called to Laura, and made his way back to the work table.

Cal had worked closely with Laura before and kept his desire for her firmly in check, but there was something about the day, the humidity, the smells, and the closeness of her that rocketed that desire to a fevered pitch. Perhaps it was the steady patter of rain on the glass roof or the way he'd watched Laura run in from it, skipping over puddles and laughing like a girl as she'd covered her hair.

Perhaps it was the simple fact that Laura had neglected to wear a bra that day, and he could see the subtle movements of her small breasts and outlines of her rosy nipples through the clinging t-shirt she wore. Her long, light brown hair curled just enough to frame her delicate face. A stray beam of sunlight made its way through the rain and touched one lock, turning the strands deep, honeyed gold.

Cal reached out and caressed it. He was so absorbed in studying it that he didn't realize Laura had completely stilled.

"I know I should start repotting," he mused, watching the way her lashes swept over her cheeks. "But all I want to do is kiss you."

Her eyes met his and he was gratified to note that the color had deepened with mutual desire. "Then what are you waiting for?"

It took only those few words of permission and Cal's mouth met Laura's, first smoothly exploring the petal-like softness of her lips, and then more vigorously as she met his pent-up enthusiasm with her own.

Cal lifted Laura's shirt and she gave him a long, lustful stare as she raised her arms and allowed him to remove it.

He loved what he saw. Laura was tall and slender, with firm breasts, just the right size to cover with his hands or hold in his mouth. He pressed her to him, tangled his fingers in her hair and began trailing kisses down the side of her neck, over her collarbone, and down to her breasts.

"Fuck me, Cal," Laura whispered to him, and at her words his entire body stilled for a moment. "Fuck me, right here, on this table."

Cal wasn't about to argue.

Snaps were released, zippers came loose, and boots were impatiently kicked off as jeans hit the ground. When they were both splendidly naked, Cal lifted Laura easily upwards and planted her ass squarely on the hard surface of the work table. It was littered with polystyrene, potting soil, bits of leaves and old compost, but neither cared.

Cal kissed and licked his way down her body, leaving behind trails of dirt from his hands. He dipped his tongue into her navel and moved lower, to where her pussy was damp with wanting him. She spread her thighs to give him access and cried out in disappointment when he skirted the area and continued kissing and caressing her legs.

"Damn it, Cal," she cursed him, and he smiled as he obligingly returned to her dripping cunt.

He slid one finger inside her and she whimpered. He placed his tongue on her clit and her back arched. He slipped one more finger inside and began moving his tongue in rapid fire motions. When she began to moan, long and low, he plunged two more fingers inside her and sucked her clit while she came.

He almost came himself when she licked and kissed her own juices from his face, along with a bit of soil that had somehow clung to his chin.

"You like that?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," she murmured with a wicked grin and licked her lips.

He captured her tongue for a moment and then lifted her from the table. A gentle pressure on her head told her what he wanted, and she obediently kneeled and took his enlarged cock into her mouth. She watched his face while she sucked, stroked, and licked him, twirling her tongue around the head of his cock and then taking the entire length into her mouth.

It was almost too much. He tugged on her luxurious hair and lifted her once more onto the table. This time he followed her.

She knew the time had come and she rolled over on her abdomen, lifting her ass into the air. Her backside was streaked with soil and bits of debris from the table and her entire body was framed by a sea of color. He thought he'd never seen anything lovelier.

"Fuck me, Cal," she demanded, and shifted backward to meet his ready cock. He slid easily inside her, relished the feel of her tight cunt around his cock. He clutched her hips in his hands and pressed lightly on her head so her breasts were pressed against the table and he was able to fuck her deeper, harder.

Laura grunted and groaned while he moved, and pressed her ass backward to meet his thrusts. He slipped a hand beneath her to rub her clit, and she came once more with a high, keening scream. The contractions around his cock brought him near to climax as well, and he withdrew from her, roughly turning her over. A few baskets flew from the table, scattering polystyrene, but he didn't notice. All he saw was Laura's ready and smiling mouth, open to receive him.

He came, over her face, over her beautiful tits and inside her mouth.

When they kissed, their two flavors became one. The scent of sex mingled in the humid air with peat, charcoal, and the hundreds of blooms that surrounded them.

And they each envisioned growing older, nurturing their plants, and fucking one another regularly in the greenhouse.