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Leaning forward, I slapped my hand on the shower wall, gritting my teeth and groaning.
I knew I wouldn’t be able to last longer.
On a pull of my hand, I let my fist fully leave my cock, and I couldn’t stop the grunt leaving my lips.
My eyes open now, I looked down at myself—red, thick, pulsing...
I tried to even my breathing, tried get it so I could work myself up all over again. Sometimes an edged orgasm was the best orgasm.
But then a whiff of coconut hit my nose again and I was coming.
No hands needed.
In fact, they were both on the shower wall as my hips pushed forward, my ass tightening.
“God. Fuck,” I mumbled, watching the white cum burst from the tip. It hit my stomach. It hit the wall. And just when I thought it was through, my muscles bunched once more and another wave of pleasure burst through me.
Finally spent, I dropped my head so my chin nearly rested on my chest.
I couldn’t...
I just...
Shit.
If that was the response after just thinking about being with Savannah again, I had zero doubt that actually being with her would be phenomenal.
Once my heart rate was back to normal, I cleaned up the shower and then re-lathered my own body, washing all evidence down the drain.
Dried and dressed, I wasn’t sure what I would find on the outside of the bathroom door.
No worries though. Savannah was still out like a light.
She’d always been a heavier sleeper.
Now I kind of wished I let myself be a little louder in the shower.
I checked my phone at the kitchen counter for any messages from Tony, but wasn’t surprised to see none yet. It was only five or so California time. Deciding to make breakfast, I took inventory of what food we had on hand.
Because Savannah had been planning on leaving yesterday, and because I generally went down to the store every five or so days, what we had was fairly minimal. I boiled up some water for oatmeal, and grabbed a too-ripe banana to add to it after, for the sweet factor.
By the time the oats were done cooking, Savannah rolled out of bed, her hair a mess around her head.
“Is there still snow?” she asked groggily, the heels of her hands in the sockets of her eyes.
“There’s still snow,” I confirmed, spooning more than half of the pot into a bowl. “You want oatmeal?”
The gagging face Savannah made in response was my answer, but she followed it up with, “It’s way too early to eat.”
She pushed up from the bed and shuffled her feet toward the bathroom. I couldn’t help but chuckle at her retreating back.
Morning person, she was not. At least, not at this hour.
Not wanting to take the full banana in case Savannah decided she wanted it, I pulled down the peel about halfway, and tore off the top half of fruit, dropping it in my bowl. I smooshed and mixed, before taking a large bite.
Not bad.
When she emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, it was with a look of confusion on her face.
