On mid-afternoons of the hottest days, Celia has Burke carry the plush red wing chair and the matching ottoman out to the courtyard. Burke is adept at stroking himself while fanning Celia. Celia loves to watch Burke work his large cock. The flesh darkens as he becomes more and more aroused. His cock-stroke slows, but the fan maintains its cooling flutter. The motion of the air pebbles the skin of Celia’s breasts. Her nipples fatten and lift toward the sun. She shifts her bottom and lifts a leg over the wing-arm, allowing her sex to open, allowing Burke a glimpse of her distended clitoris.

Burke knows not to rush. Nevertheless, the inevitable spot of gleam appears in the slit of his penis. Sometimes the first jet of Burke’s ejaculate overshoots the ottoman. When this happens, Celia is sure she can hear the sizzle of the semen on the hot stone floor. Most of the warm cream lands safely on the velvet top of the ottoman. Celia likes to watch the milky puddles sink slowly into the fabric.

Through Burke’s orgasm and for some time after, while Burke’s erection flags, the peacock fan lifts and falls, lifts and falls, its steady but slight breeze not enough to evaporate the sweat which begins to coast down Celia’s sun-warmed skin. Neither the current of air nor the trickle of perspiration will make it through the fluffy tangle of Celia’s pubic hair, but there is more than enough moisture in Celia’s cunt, so that when Burke’s cock regains its rigidity, penetration will be fast and full.

Usually, the stand-up fuck lasts until shadows cover the courtyard, and it is time for tea.