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Briefly I thought about running just cold water, but the stiffness in my neck seemed like it needed the warmth. Stripping out of my pajamas, I climbed in and let the water rush over me. I cleaned myself quickly, with every intention of getting out, but the showerhead was strong enough to beat my muscles into submission, and the warm water was relaxing and luxurious.
I closed my eyes and let the water run down my face, the streams sliding down my neck, over my shoulders, and down my chest. No matter how long I had been in there, the urge for release had not subsided. The images of Amanda in the dream had not gone away, and even were joined now by the image of her in the bed. It brought thoughts to the surface so real, so intense, that my cock thickened under the water, and I reluctantly grabbed the base.
An image of Amanda from the dream, her hair at her shoulders, dressed in only a silken robe, came searing into my mind’s eye. I stroked myself as I imagined her in that robe, walking into the bathroom, seeing me in the shower. In my vision, she opened the robe and let it slide off her magnificent body before climbing in with me.
Water would cascade down her perky, full breasts and stream down her stomach. It would create rivulets that wound their way to her core, some filtering down her thighs, others collecting in the soft bush above her center. We would kiss, and she would take my cock in her hand, guiding it to her like a siren, and lift her leg to open herself to me. I would press her against the wall of the shower, her breasts pushing into my chest as I entered her, and she would gasp.
My eyes clenched hard as I stroked faster, imagining myself inside her. Her mouth would droop open, and she would moan as I fucked her. Then, just when I was about to explode, she would drop to her knees and take me in her mouth. I came hard as I imagined emptying myself onto her tongue, and shook, holding myself up by pushing against the wall with one hand as I exploded into the bottom of the tub.
When I was done, I cleaned myself off, made sure the tub was similarly spotless, and turned off the water. I wrapped myself in the towel, waiting to get back to my suitcase to put on clothes, and opened the door a crack. She was still asleep, and I breathed a sigh of relief. It felt so wrong, and yet, it felt so incredibly right.
I marveled again at her beauty as she slept and then made my way for the other room. As I got dressed, I decided to leave her a note and got out a paper and pen. When my message was written, I signed it and left it on the table where our laptops were, and I left, a smile threatening to cross my face.* * *It was later in the afternoon, the sun disappearing behind trees before peeking through again as it went on its way toward setting. The five brothers had collected, and at my suggestion, we all decided to take a little stroll to Danny’s bar. Jordan was the most excited by the prospect of a showdown, and I had to go over with him a few times that there was to be no threats and no fighting. He sounded like he understood, but I knew him well enough to know that keeping an eye on him was for the best.
As we walked into the bar, I noticed how dank it was. The sunlight from outside was completely filtered out, and the color of the bar was a mixture of dark brown and dark blue. As if the whole bar was a bruise. The other brothers filtered into the bar, taking random positions at the few seats around the place, but Jordan and I went to the bar and sat on two empty stools next to each other.
Danny looked up from where he was putting away shot glasses and saw us reflected in the mirror and turned. The grimace on his face was etched deep into his cheeks, and I readied myself to duck if he happened to throw something at me.
“What in the blue hell are you doing here?” Danny asked, his voice gravelly.
“Came in to get a drink,” I said quickly, before Jordan could interrupt. “Since our bar is kind of, well, nonoperational.”
Danny made a sound that told me he was still leery of us being there.
“Well, I am always open to welcoming new customers,” he said, casually putting the last of the shot glasses away, “but I’m not selling.”
“We aren’t here to buy your shitty dive bar,” Jordan said from behind me, and I raised my hand to shush him. Danny’s eyes turned to him and widened like a mad bull. When he spoke, it was low and even but full of contempt.
