swirling she allowed herself to drift. her mind joined her body in the frothing water, which had now taken on the task of digesting a plentiful sunday morning brunch. he had shooed her out of the kitchen after she had finished eating. a smile played across her lips. breakfast, as usual for sunday, was... interesting. crepes. strawberries. whipped cream which _he_ insisted on making himself... how he had playfully fed her overstuffed forkfuls of the thin pancakes, how the fruit kept "accidentally" falling off the fork and into her lap (which he felt obligated to clean up... with his tongue). or him kissing her after every third or fourth mouthful to taste the strawberries still on her lips... and farther back in her mouth. her body drifted, cushioned on a pillow of bubbles, as she waited for him to finish cleaning up in the kitchen. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ all in all, he was pretty satisfied with the morning. sundays were always his favorite day of the week - the only day he and she ever really got to spend together without other distractions. he would get up early... sometimes as early as 7:00 and begin preparations, kissing her ruffled hair as he untangled himself from her. he knew that much of the muss and fuss and tangle was his fault... sometimes he would stay in bed an extra half hour, propped up on his elbow, looking at her... the way the hair half-covered her face while she slept, her hands almost in a prayer-like position under her cheek. he would get up, prepare breakfast, and the rest of the day was theirs. he also insisted that he clean up afterwards. after all, it was "my bloody mess, so there... nyah nyah nyanyah nyah." he loved to cook. it was so... concrete. so much of the rest of his life was based on abstraction. after all, he took for _granted_ that he was working with something he couldn't see without a lot of gold and a scanning electron microscope. and lots of luck in finding a strand of it. in the six years that he had been working on his various research projects, he'd never once had the desire to take the time to see it. but an egg... there was something different. lightly oiled pan, and the white immediately polymerizing into a long chain of peptides instead of the free-floating soup that the eggs and yolks usually consisted of. damn, he thought, this is as close as i get to seeing what i do... this morning wasn't an egg morning. no omelettes, either. he had run out of cheese last weekend and hadn't gotten around to picking up any more. plenty of fruit laying around, and a half-unused carton of whipping cream... crepes it was. an hour later, he gently nudged her awake, kissed her forehead and said "morning luv. howdja sleep?" a half mumbled response let him know that she had slept well... he grinned. must have been the rather exhaustive earlier part of the evening, he thought. he remembered how her body had gone completely limp after she tightened her legs around his back, not letting him move more than an inch at a time to finish her off. and then a few more muscles tightened around him, and he gave in to the inevitable. the memory left him grinning devilishly as he headed out back to the whirlpool where she waited for him. patiently. she was always patient. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the sound of his bare feet on the wooden deck drew her out of her reverie. she smiled. (did they ever _not_ smile around each other? well, yes, but most of the time this was not the case.) she opened her eyes and watched him take the last few steps to the pool, dropping the towel behind him about three steps before he put his feet in the hot and turbulent water. he eased himself in to get used to the temperature difference. she noted with quiet pleasure that he paid rapt attention to her breasts floating freely (or as freely as they could... not much of them to float... just the way he liked them), and getting a 'positive' response out of him. as he finally sank the rest of the way down, she could see the head popping up above the water, making tiny eddies in the water surrounding it, just before he shifted over to kiss her hard, on the lips. the intensity of the first kiss was more than she had expected it to be. teasing tongue play at the gates of both mouths... clashing and concession across and around, into and through, each other's lips. hands met involuntarily, gripped tightly to each other. skin, already flushed from dilating blood vessels (could she ever _not_ throw in a scientific bit of trivia into their lovemaking?) was much warmer than his... he felt cool to the touch, and it made her shiver, starting at her breasts - nipples hardening immediately - along her spine and finally centering at the opening. a few sparks of pleasure made her arch her back. a hand unclasped. who let go first, she didn't know. felt it slide below the water line. down her belly, into the sparse pubic hair. her hips arched to meet his fingers, now working their way down past the thatch of hair and across her clit. the other hand let go - her doing this time. wet hands around his neck and into his hair pulling him tighter as he worked his fingers into the folds, one finger, then two placed inside of her... she was lifted off the bench, lips still locked together and both fingers still inside her. moving, drifting... she couldn't concentrate on anything except the fingers... working in and out... palm now against her clit and thumb rubbing it... she felt a sudden increase in the tempo of his fingers, not realizing at first that the change was not from anything he was doing so much as that he has placed you over a jet, his hands cushioning the force of the water. she tried to bring her legs together. intensity was too strong as he pulled his finger out of her... the first few streams rushed past and into her. he let her adjust before beginning to remove his hand, but keeping his body between her legs so she couldn't pull them together... the force of the water hit and battered her clit, the inside of her pussy... a thousand screaming fingers all wanting admittance at once. breathing became unimportant and he held her down over the jet. little chirping noises escape her lips. he took one lobe of her ear in his mouth, rolled it, sucked on it, pulled it while his tongue pressed the back of her ear. her entire body bucked, mouth opening and closing, finding his and clawing the back of his head trying desperately to hold his face tighter to hers. soon, she couldn't even concentrate on that and just held him close to her, breath between clenched teeth... he pinched her nipple, which sent shuddering shocks of goose pimples throughout her body... a last gasp... low groan starting in the back of her throat, getting louder as it built up speed. he was no longer holding her down. grinding her hips to the jet, letting the jet torture her clit with pleasure... one last groan, sounding more like a purr... then her body slid off the bench and into the deeper part of the pool... one last kiss on her closed eyelids before she let herself go... drifting again....