AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I swallow hard.
Unlike last night, I have no problem getting hard.
In fact, my cock twitches and presses painfully against my jeans. Just the sight of her in the shower, her perfect body, causes my stomach to tighten as if there’s a cord pulling me from the inside – pulling me towards her – and I find myself stepping into the shower fully clothed. Tipping my head back I open my mouth, letting the water fill it before letting it overflow, washing away the staleness.
All I can do is stare at her, paralyzed, overcome by how much I want her. She lifts her hand to touch the bruise at my eye and I wince. My whole body feels bruised, and every muscle protests any movement. I miss the alcohol numbing the pain, but having her naked and in my shower is better than any glass of whiskey, even the most expensive Macallan. I can almost guarantee that her cunt will taste just as sweet too.
Besides, I want to feel this. I want to remember every fucking detail.
The hot water feels so good, washing away the dirt and sins from last night—it would take more than just one shower to wash away all my demons.
She runs her fingers over my chest and down to my abs, undoing the button and pulling down my zipper. I step out of my wet jeans—heavy and awkward – and kick them to the side while she grabs the sponge and runs it over my shoulder and across my chest, leaving soapy bubbles in their wake. I let her clean me because it feels good, and I like watching her. Purposefully she positions her body flush to mine so I feel her erect nipples slide along my soapy chest. My balls pull tight, and fuck, it is taking everything in me not to slam her against the shower wall right now.
Instead, I drop to my knees like I’m praying at an altar, because I’ve wanted to taste her pussy since the moment I met her. I’m practically salivating for it. Her bare cunt is at my eye level, and I’m mesmerized at how the water flows over her mound and magically disappears into her slit. I run my thumbs along her outer folds before I spread her open revealing her world to me, and the excitement is heightened by the feel of her hands in my hair, pulling at the strands while I slip my tongue inside to taste her.
I’m a horrible person—a horrible son—for wanting this so much, for taking pleasure in the sight of this woman’s bare cunt, in light of everything that happened last night – in light of everything I’m running from, but this is too good, and her low, sweet moans take me to a place even the bump of coke didn’t last night.
If I have to run, I will run to booze and pussy every time – it’s my character flaw, but as I draw my finger up her length to expose the nub of her clit and feel it pulse like a living, breathing thing – I will take this character flaw over any other.
I look up her body from my position kneeling before her, and watch as her eyes flutter closed and the water falls over her plump lips while I bring her close to climax. I’m mesmerized, so fucking gone as I watch beads of water fall over her skin onto her breasts and down her stomach where I collect them with my tongue like a starving man as I kiss and lick her pussy.
I’m driven by basic biology, the release that only fucking can resolve. Her sweet moans are muffled by the pounding water as I eat her, gripping her hips while she rocks into me, harder and faster until her palms hit the glass with a force that threatens to break it. Her pussy grips my fingers, pulsing around me while she cries out.
Reaching outside the shower I grapple for my jeans, trying to find the pocket and pull out a condom. I can’t seem to get it open fast enough. My balls are aching, and my cock is throbbing against my stomach. I want to fuck her against the shower wall, to thrust into her until the water runs cold and she begs me to stop.
We haven’t spoken, not a single word since I stepped into the shower, and yet, she understands what I need.
I need her.
That’s exactly what she gives me.
I hold her up as she wraps her legs around me, her chest flush to mine, nipples hard and rubbing against my skin. The friction and feel of her runs through my veins and straight to my cock. The minute I sink into her I can’t stop, and nothing satisfies the ache inside of me. I want more and more until her breaths are nothing but short gasps and my muscles ache from the strain. She feels too good, and I am too far gone to be gentle. I don’t feel it until the last minute, too late to stop myself from coming apart, and as I do, every emotion in my body starts to unravel like a ball of twine falling off a table. My body shudders against hers and I sink my face into the side of her neck, resting it there as I feel everything let go, my cum, my anger, and mostly, my grief.
The water is now lukewarm but it still hides the hot tears that spring from my eyes because I’m suddenly struck with the notion that I’m alone. The only person I have is a fucking prostitute I paid to fuck me so I can forget that my parents are dead.
The shower stall becomes too quiet, and I’m all too aware of my own breathing. I set her down gently, slowly unfolding myself from her, but I’m still not able to look her in the eyes as I step out of the shower, not bothering to grab a towel or worry about water dripping all over the floor.
As an afterthought, I slip off the condom, depositing it into the trash. From behind me I hear the shower turn off as I shake the water from my hair, continuing out of the bathroom. I push the hair from my forehead and stop dead when I see Rausch with his arms crossed over his chest standing in the living room.
If anyone has the power to make my cock limp, it’s Rausch.
I’m surprised to see a few wrinkles in his normally perfectly pressed dress shirt. To my right, his security man stands in front of the door, blocking my exit – not that I would while still being naked. I notice Alistair stand from his perch on the couch, still in his boxers, a solemn look on his face as if he’s a child waiting out his punishment.
“Your parents are dead, and you trash a hotel room.” His blue eyes look past me as he adds on, “And apparently fuck hookers.”
I follow his gaze to see Evangeline coming from the bedroom, her hair still wet and dripping onto her shoulders while she holds her shoes.
“What makes you think I’m a hooker?” she asks as she slips on her heels.
Rausch assesses her carefully, his mouth pressed firmly in a tight line. “An educated guess.”
“Don’t talk to her like that, Rausch,” I tell him angrily after seeing her shocked expression.
“Touching,” he says in an annoyed tone, turning his gaze back to me.
I give Evangeline an apologetic look.
“Jesus Christ, Darren. Do you know how much this will cost to fix?” Rausch gestures dramatically to the trashed room. I notice the TV mounted on the wall is cracked, and I just now remember that I hit it on my way out of the room last night, looking down at my knuckles to notice the bruises only just now.
