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“Get your mind out of the gutter!” he told me. “Just a shower.” But his eyes flicked over my body in a way that sent a rush of heat to my core.
“You can control yourself?” I asked.
“I can control myself, can you control yourself?”
I stuck my tongue out at him.
He took my hand and led me to the bathroom. We stripped out of our clothes while the spray heated and then climbed into the tub. God, it was glorious, the hot water blasting all the dirt and worry from my body and the heat soaking into my bones and banishing the chill of last night’s rain. He pushed me in front of him so that I got most of the water, but after a few minutes I shuffled us around so that he could have a turn. At first it was a little chilly, out of the spray. Then he turned around, picked up the soap and used those big, powerful hands to soap my shoulders and back, and suddenly I wasn’t cold at all.
He washed me slowly and lovingly, his hands gentle as they ran up and down my sides and then over my ass. I felt the heat start to build in my core, like a sleeping animal waking and uncurling, but his touch wasn’t sexual…yet. His hands ran down my legs, then up between them, the edges of his hands skimming the juncture of my thighs and making me gasp. Then his palms slid up over my stomach, up to my breasts. He only allowed himself to cradle them for a second as he soaped them but the sudden change in his breathing told me how much he wanted to keep squeezing them.
As the spray rinsed the suds from my body, I heard him pick something up. Then there was a sudden coldness on the top of my head. It was only when his fingers started to massage my scalp that I realized he was washing my hair. No one had ever done that for me before and it was strangely intimate...and very, very relaxing. With his immensely strong fingers methodically circling, it doubled as a head massage and I could feel all the stress my body had been holding, breaking free, drifting upwards and evaporating as it reached the top of my head. My shoulders dropped and my knees softened, like a puppet with its strings loosened. Chyort, he should set up a stall and wash women’s hair for $20 a time, he’d have a line a mile long. Except…I didn’t want him doing this for anyone else. Just me. As often as possible.
When he’d finished and the spray had rinsed away the shampoo, I maneuvered him beneath the spray and started washing him. Reaching up to soap his neck reminded me how small I was, without my heels. Reaching around to run the soap over the muscles of his back was like trying to hug a tree and I had to press myself tight to him. That made my breasts smoosh against his chest and he looked down at me and growled. The warning was clear: this wasn’t going to stay not sexual very long if I kept doing that.
I stepped back, grinning, and started on his chest. As I ran my soapy hands over the huge, hard slabs of his pecs, I could feel the heat pooling and tightening in my groin: the sheer brute strength of him, the thought of what he could—would—do to me any moment… I kept going dreamy and had to focus hard to keep my hands moving. Down over his stomach, the valleys of his abs guiding my fingers and directing them down and inwards towards…
I swallowed. The only way I could wash him properly, below the waist, was to get down on my knees. I tried to do it casually and matter-of-factly but just the thought of it, just the words get down on my knees unleashed that familiar tremor deep inside me. And when I looked up at him and saw him gazing down at me from so far above, his eyes hooded with lust, I went weak inside.
I started at his feet and spiraled slowly up his legs as if my hands were vines climbing a statue. I traced the bulges of his quads and reached up to soap the hard cheeks of his ass and then I was face to face with…
I stared at his cock as it rose and hardened. I’d never just knelt and watched a man getting hard before, watched the shaft engorge and lengthen, watched the head turn satiny-smooth as it thickened and swelled. And knowing that he was getting hard looking at me, gazing down at my naked breasts and my upturned face as I knelt there watching him… Ripples of heat soaked down through my body and made my groin tighten and throb. The power I had over him. The power he had over me. His cock reached its full, imposing size, the tip barely an inch from my lips. I looked up at him and when I saw him glowering down at me, huge and menacing, I couldn’t resist: I smirked and blew lightly on him, letting him feel the heat of my breath.
