“The old fashioned way—a shower. But not just your regular shower. I want a warm, bubbling one with sensual candles all around. You know, romantic.”
“I know just what you’re talking about, love.” He lifted her from his lap. “Let’s walk in naked, step into a warm shower and make it warmer. Would that be a good start?”
She answered by pulling her shirt off and unsnapping the back of her bra. Darrius slid it off her shoulders and let it drop to the carpeting in a heap. In one quick motion, he unzipped her jeans and slid them, and her panties, to her feet. She kicked off her sandals and stepped out of the heap of clothing.
Before him stood a naked seductress. His eyes never left her slender frame. The heft of her breasts made him moisten his lips; the dark patch of hair covering her sex made his fingers tingle, wanting her like never before. His erection parted the buckskin breechcloth, reminding him that it was now his turn to disrobe.
Easy.
The jockstrap and a single knotted strap behind him pulled free, along with the breechcloth, releasing him. Both items dropped to the ground, covering her bare feet. She stepped back to admire him. From the single light coming from another room, she could see his frame; a tall, slender black-and-white-painted man with flows of hair gracing his back and sides. The only unpainted area of his body was a stiff erection. The sight both excited and amused her. She smiled.
“What is it?” Darrius asked.
“You’re a little mismatched.”
He looked down and saw his phallus was a shade lighter than the rest of his painted body. “There was no way in hell Derrick was going to help me paint this.” He turned and showed an equally bare derriere. “He wouldn’t paint that, either.”
“That’s for me to paint.” She took his hand. “The bathroom awaits, doesn’t it?”
“Ready and waiting.”
Inside the bathroom, he lit two frankincense candles on each side of the large shower. Jets soon sprayed into the stall, steaming the walls and enhancing the fragrance of the candles.
Now face to face and skin to skin, he kissed her, swirling his tongue around hers, battling for dominance as he held her tighter. His erection pulsed against her upper stomach. His natural liquid mixed with water beaded against his tip and he stroked it, making it harder.
He let Justine take over the task, wrapping her hand around the thick phallus, feeling its rigid veins, his smooth tip, the soft, wet skin of it—skin more sensitive there than the rest of it. She slightly jerked it, caressed the underside, raking gentle nails across it. A man had never been as hard as he was to her that night.
Darrius was the only man who could take her to a world she had never experienced. Images would explode in her mind as his body filled hers. She wanted to be crazy from him that night; wanted to be crazy because of him, and she was more than halfway there just by looking into his eyes.
Darrius took the bar soap from the dish, wet it and held wet fingers under her nose. “Lavender; your favorite.”
“Did I tell you lavender was my favorite?”
“No. I just knew. I am right, aren’t I?”
“Right as rain. Drench me, rain on me, fill me with every pleasure of the night.” She stroked his erection harder.
“Is that what you want, total and explicit carnal pleasures?”
“It’s what every woman wants; especially me, but only with you.”
He responded with mouth-watering kisses that trailed from her lips down. He paused at her breasts, taking one full, beaded nipple into his mouth, tugging lightly. The other received equal attention as water poured, covering them both as if in torrential rains.
For Justine, no other sexual experience had matched what they were doing, not even their previous lovemaking. She couldn’t believe his lovemaking got better with time, like aged wine, only sweeter—much sweeter. With each tender stroke, with every sensual caress across her naked, wet flesh, the tighter the strings within her sex pulled, wanting release, that unbalancing of everything within her.
Darrius kissed down to her belly and let his fingers play at her juncture, soon kissing her there as well, with teasing tongue strokes. She was too hot and delicious to part from, and already, he missed her kiss so much. Again facing his lover, they kissed in a hard, wild battle that made her wrap her arms around his shoulders. He pressed his body closer into her, gyrating hip to hip, sex to sex. The more Justine squirmed against him, the more he felt an intolerable fever swell within him.
Amid the rage of caresses and steam, Justine opened her eyes and saw a mixture of black and white paint glide down his body and pool with the water at their feet, which was now a creamy white color. His hair, now in sheets of darkness, was molded to his back and her hands. The heavy strands lay between her fingers as they kissed beyond control of their emotions.
Minutes later, Justine pulled away, stared into his flushed, paintless face and said, “Now.”
“No!”
She blinked in disbelief. “What? We’re so ready, Darrius.”
“We are, but I have more planned. I don’t want anything quick. I want this to last all night, all morning, all of tomorrow—if that pleases you.”
Her hand traveled the length of his torso, stopping at his engorged erection. “It does, but I want this. I want you on top of me, beside me, under me…in back of me.”
“In back of you. I can fix that now, draw out the fantasy, make you so ready for me you’ll explode upon contact once we move to the bed. I love looking at you when you come. You look like a goddess.”
“Then make me look like one now.”
Darrius placed her under the jets and turned her back to him. He watched the water sheet across her dark hair and African/Italian-rich skin and knew he had no choice but to move with her—or go crazy from his own desire to take it slower. There still would be no penetration—not yet, but something so damn pleasurable he would be weary from the act.
He moved the hair from the back of her neck, kissed it, and had her bend ever so slightly. With one hand leaning against the wall above her head for balance, his other held tight to his length, moving it in a steady pace up and down. He felt her body tighten, aching, wanting more. Still, he teased. His length slid effortlessly across her labia from behind, yet without entrance. Now both of his hands rested on the wall above her head while his hips rocked against her.
The water splashed between her back and his chest. Her calls echoed throughout the petroglyph-etched walls of the candlelit bathroom. His body tensed, his lips trembled, and his throat constricted as a wave of silky white erupted from him.
His chest heaved for seconds only, to gain momentum. Then he kissed her once more and shut off the water. Helping her from the stall, he wrapped a plush towel around her and blew out the candle. And then they walked dripping wet to his bedroom.
* * *
Staring at the heavy oak bedroom door, Justine knew paradise was on the other side. His bedroom was a place she had seen only in her mind. She waited in anticipation as he turned the knob.
What lay beyond was darkness, and he chose not to turn on a light. Instead, he opened the door wider and ushered her in. “Walk with me and lie face down on the bed.”
“Shouldn’t we towel dry first?”
