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“I—”
“If you say fine, I'm going to run away and never come back. I swear!”
I half-wonder if he will turn me away. I'm gripping my own arms in preparation.
“This is inappropriate,” he heaves.
“Sure!” I throw up my hands. “It's inappropriate, especially seeing you in that towel.” I point at it. “The towel is terrible. I hate it. I hate that I want to yank it away. It's horrible how I want to pull it off, go to my knees, and make you suffer like I am suffering!”
He makes a cursed, aggrieving noise.
I don't let that distract me. I've got momentum.
“Putting my mouth on you is nowliterallyall I am thinking about at this moment. Does that make you happy? I'm certainly not happy. Do you think licking up and down your cock is conducive to a clear mind? Mr. Li, I can tell you it is not! And not to threaten you, but if this isn't what you want, then please storm out of here. Release us of this uncertainty! Release me of this hold you have on me! Release me to search out other—men-folk—to put my mouth on!”
“Get in the shower.”
I'm jerked out of my ranting and raving with the tone of his voice. It's a direct order. There is no softness. Strict Huan is back. He looks upset, considering the stark tendons standing out in his neck. There is a pulsing in his jaw. Pupils are black and fearsome.
“Don't make me repeat myself,” he growls.
I squeak and dash over.It's happening! Something is happening! What is happening?Pulling the shower door open, I duck inside the tight stall. Looking down, I see my clothes are still on. As I’m about to giggle about it, I realize he’s come after me. His palm rests on the glass. Ever so slowly, he closes the door, leaving himself on the other side.
“Aren’t you getting in?” Though the two of us crammed in here will implode the stall.
“I’ll tell you what to do.”
He steps away and… gives me his back?
“Take off your clothes.”
Once again, I've got no control over the situation. It should drive me mad with anxiety, but all I can feel are the goosebumps pebbling my arms. My shirt and sports bra come off in one move. I'm panting. There is a re-emergence of my wicked throb.
“When you are done,” he says, “stick your hand out with them.”
I… do.
Huan collects my clothes but doesn’t look at my body. Not even a peek. I’m not mad though, because I know he’s affected. The front of the towel is a big, bulging declaration that he is.
He leaves with my clothes. I'm made to wait. Patience is not my finest virtue. I’m wriggling so hard. I take quick breaths and actively stop myself from massaging myself down there. I’m soaked. My forehead finds blue tiles as I count backwards from twenty.
“Are you ready to start?”
I jump a little. He’s here and has resumed his stance. Back turned, closer to the sink this time, and based on what I can see using the sink’s mirror, his hand is on his bulge.
My mouth waters. “Yes.”
“This is okay?”
“I’m not vanilla anymore for liking this,” I tease. “It's either always been inside me or it’s because it’s you.”
“I’m going to show you it’s me.”
“You’re bossy,” I say in a I’m-so-horny-whine.
“I am, but we both know you want me to take control. Your mind needs the break to feel good. I’ll be telling you what to do.”
But what about him? I’m about to ask when his towel hits the ground. My neck cranes so hard it cramps. Guess he’s participating. The sight of his sculpted back and rounded ass jumpstarts my pussy.Is this really happening?
