Coverage
by Mat Twassel
Copyright© 2025 by Mat Twassel
Erotica Sex Story: Aroha is innocently watering the patio plants when Royce shows up and wants to get involved in the watering. Illustrated.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Interracial Masturbation Water Sports Illustrated .
So I’m out on the patio watering the plants, drenching them, actually, cuz I’d neglected them these last few days, or make that weeks, though they still looked pretty perky, when Royce comes out, and he sees that I’m naked, cuz, well, I don’t know why, and he says, “Hey, I didn’t know this was a nude porch,” and I go, “It’s not. It’s a nude patio,” and he goes, “Oh, well in that case,” and just like that he strips off.
Then he watches me, and I watch him watching me. Royce, as you know, doesn’t have the biggest dick, but it’s still a nice size, and it’s stiffening, and I realize my watering is missing the pot, splashing all over the brick. Royce laughs.
“You think this is funny,” I go, and he says, “No, well, maybe a little,” and I go, “Cuz you distracted me,” and he says, “So you want me to go, to leave you alone?”
“I’m done anyway cuz I used up all the water,” I tell him, and he says, “Well, you can always water me.” I’m not sure what he means, what he has in mind. Like does he want me to pee on him or something? No way will I get close to that.
“Like what do you mean?” I go, and he says, “I don’t know—I was just making conversation. Anyway, what’s wrong with your watering can?”
“It’s empty,” I tell him. “No,” he says, “I mean what happened to the end, you know, of the spout?” “It broke off somehow,” I tell him. “But it still works just fine,” I add.
“Maybe I could fix it for you,” he offers.
I give him a funny look. “How would you do that?” I say.
“I could screw it back on,” he goes, “Or glue it or whatever.” “Yeah, but the part is missing. Lost. And like I said, it works okay the way it is.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t spray,” he says. He spreads his hands and arms out. “So you get better coverage,” he says. “Coverage,” I say. He smiles. “So you’re an expert waterer,” I go. He shrugs. Then he kneels next to one of the pots, reaches his hand in, and pulls out the missing piece of the spout. He sticks it back on the end.
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