For a while that was all I allowed. He wasn't touching me, and neither was I, at least not with company. I went home and stroked myself alone, in the ...ark, like I was just now.After a while, though, I stopped being so shy, and it was a matter of trust between us that this was something neither of us would show anyone else, but that we could do together. I'd watch him slide over the strange skin of his cock, and I'd find the courage to touch my dampness. I'd see his eyes on me. It would be. I could hear him moving about a bit and the water still running and thought I heard him sigh and grunt. Fighting down the naughty thoughts, again, I marched determinedly down the hall, taking the steps two at a time to remove myself from temptation. My half-full wine glass was still where I had left it and I grabbed it in one hand, taking the almost empty bottle with the other, and marched out to my gazebo. As I walked up I recalled how badly I had teased the poor guys that built it for me. . More

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