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As I start to wash myself, I feel the air change. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Abigail as she slowly inches forward. She’s gripping her toiletry bag tightly while she stares at me.
“What do you want to have for dinner?” I ask to make conversation and to keep her thoughts focused on me.
“Whatever you feel like,” she answers, her tone soft and cautious.
Knowing this is one hell of a crucial moment, I turn to face her as I wash my hair. “The weather is nice. I can grill some steaks.”
Her eyes dart over my body before they get stuck on my face, then she breathes, “Sounds good.”
Again her gaze lowers to my pelvis, then back to my abs and up to my chest.
“How are you holding up?” I ask.
“Surprisingly okay,” she admits.
Once I’m done rinsing the suds from my hair and body, I ask, “Yeah? No triggers?”
She shakes her head. “I thought I’d feel…repulsed.”
Thank fuck, I don’t have that effect on her.
“One win at a time, baby. I’m proud of you,” I say as I shut off the faucets and step out of the shower. I grab a towel and dry myself before kissing her forehead. “Freshen up while I get everything ready for dinner.”
I walk to the closet and take my time getting dressed in my favorite suit, a dark grey one with a long sleeve shirt. I leave the top three buttons undone, then slip my feet into my shoes.
Brushing my fingers through my damp hair, I walk toward the doorway, and passing by the bathroom, I catch sight of Abigail’s naked body right before she darts into the shower.
Christ, her body is as hot as I remember. Her curves aren’t as curvy, but I’ll take care of that this week.
Keep walking.
Just keep fucking walking, Vetrov!
I adjust my hard-on, the squeeze giving it a sliver of relief.
She should be in the shower for ten minutes, at the very least.
Walking back into the closet, I stop by her open bag. I find one of her lace panties and bring it to my nose while I pull my zipper down.
Fuck, her tits are so firm, her nipples hard as if they’re begging for my mouth.
I pull my painful hard-on out and fist it as I bring up the image of Abigail spread naked before me. The way she looked when I lifted her ass and slammed into her the first time.
The way she took every inch of me.
My fingers massage the solid steel between my thighs.
I remember the erotic sounds she made as I hammered into her and how fucking hot it was to watch me push inside her.
My fist moves faster, my ass clenching from the intensity building in me. I cover the swollen head of my dick with her panties right before pleasure seizes me.
FuckFuckFuck.
Watching as I come on the lace, I clench my jaw, so I don’t make a sound. Breathing hard through my nose, the last of the ecstasy ebbs away, and I quickly clean the mess.
I hear the shower turn off and shove Abigail’s panties into the laundry basket. I’ll have them washed before returning the lace to her luggage.
Tucking my cock back into my pants, I pull up the zipper. I turn around to head to the kitchen just as Abigail enters the closet.
