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Could she? Could it be that easy? Just pretend he was Nash and not Graham? No, no, that wouldn't work.
Melody: You are so young. You can't even drink yet, for Christ's sake.
Melody: I shouldn't even be touching you. Rosa would kill me.
Nash: Technically, you didn't touch me.
Nash: I touched you
Nash: And licked
Nash: And sucked
Melody groans loudly. He is insufferable.
Nash: You don't have to touch me, Melody.
Nash: Let me do the touching.
Nash: Please.
Fucked, she is so fucked.
She throws her phone on the pile of clothes she dug out of her bag. Leaning with her back against the wall as she stares into the restroom, lost in thought.
After a few moments, the adjacent door crashes open as Nash walks into the bathroom.
No shoes, large gray sweatpants hanging low on his hip, and shirtless.
He was truly a magnificent specimen. The shirts he wore hinted at a great foundation, but what lay beneath is a work of art. A patchwork of tattoos claim his arms and chest, she is too far away to tell what they are, but she finds herself inching closer for a better look.
He stands before the mirror, brushing his teeth, when his eyes find hers in the reflection. His whole face lights up. He spits out the toothpaste he had in his mouth and gives her a dark smile. He turns so his back is to the mirror, showcasing an impressively muscular back. She can see them undulate and move as he opens the shower door and turns on the water.
She should look away. She needs to look away.
But then, he turns back to the mirror, looking directly at her, and pulls down his sweats. His erection jutted out from between his thighs proudly.
She can't not look. It's impossible.
Her eyes rove over his body not knowing which part is her favorite. Before she even realizes what's happening, she sits at the edge of the doorway, looking up at him as he steps into the shower. He doesn't say a word, and neither does she. He knows she is there. He looks right at her as he grabs a bar of soap and lathers up his body. She has never been jealous of an inanimate object before, but the way that bar of soap moves across his body makes her feel a whole lot of jealousy.
The bubbles left behind are starting to obscure her view, so she growls in frustration. Nash moves the bar over his erection, giving it a tug.
The bar of soap is forgotten then as he gets under the spray of water. She inches closer, fully in the bathroom now, the steam providing enough cover for her to feel safe in her voyeurism.
He gives himself another tug, as a long groan escapes his lips. He doesn't look at her, which is probably a good thing, too. If he did, she may combust. She can feel her body responding to his groans and his movements. A deep ache wells up in her belly as her eyes remain glued to his hand.
He begins to move, hand jerking and tugging in a rhythm she was all too familiar with. Her core tightens, legs squeezing together as wetness gathers between them.
"What are you thinking about?" She whispers, surprising herself.
His gaze collides with hers, eyes heated, pupils dilated with lust. "Your pussy." He responds plainly. Her face flushes. She is by no means a shy maiden, but damn if his honesty isn't a turn on. He closes his eyes, bringing himself under the spray again, left arm braced against the wall in front of him as his right hand brings him pleasure. He groans again, pulling her out of her own thoughts, and back into the present.
"You know Melody.” He starts, voice low and husky. “I spent a lot of time thinking about you in this shower growing up. But I have to be honest, nothing compares to memory of my hands on your ass.''
His movements are getting more rhythmic and urgent. Eyes glued to him, Melody can't speak. Watching his strong muscular frame jerk himself, giving into the pleasure that he is taking from himself is more erotic than she could have imagined. He groans again, longer than before.
"The taste of your pussy after you came undone for me, your big thighs squeezing me while I sucked on your clit and bit at your legs." His movements are more erratic, moving faster. He shifts his position, his gaze laser-focused on hers through the glass door as he spills himself empty, his hand pumping slowly as the final bits of cum slide over his hand.
