It’s hard to be too upset when the man begins to shampoo my hair and massage my scalp. This man may be a lot of things, but unfortunately for me he’s also the best hair shampooer I’ve ever experienced. Describing his strong fingers as they slowly worked through my hair, gently tugging at the roots doesn’t do the feeling justice. It’s something you need to experience yourself to truly understand. Somewhere along the way, from his first rough kiss to his gentle and methodical rinsing of my hair, I became completely comfortable being naked with this man. His touch no longer startles me, but only makes me want more— like an addict.
“Move over,” the man says against my lips, breaking me out of my relaxed
haze with a soft kiss. “Let me quickly wash up.”
Blinking up at him, I take a step back and allow him to stand more fully under the spray. I watch in fascination as he quickly and efficiently washes. His muscles ripple as he rubs the bar of soap roughly over his face and chest, the foamy bubbles catching on his chest hair before being washed down. I watch the rivulets of water flow until they come to the wiry mass just above his half erect penis.
I stare transfixed as the man cups himself, washing his balls thoroughly before stroking himself. Without a thought, I step closer, my hand itching to reach out and touch him.
“Like what you see?” The man’s voice startles me. Looking up at the gold flecks sparkling in his eyes as he stares down at me, I bite my lip unable
— unwilling—to admit the truth to him: that I do like what I see.
Dropping the nearly disintegrated soap bar onto the shower ledge, the man cups my face, gently using his teeth to tug the lip I have been biting before soothing it with his tongue. Leaning into the kiss, I moan with desire as he plunders my mouth. The man’s hands move down my back, sending sparks of
pleasure in their wake until he’s cupping my ass and grinding our bodies together.
“I need a taste,” he growls.
He places his hands on my hips, and my heart races as he steers me backward so I’m pressed against the rough tiled wall of the shower. I bite my lip in anticipation as he squats down in front of me.
“Lift your leg over my shoulder,” he instructs, his large hand gripping the back of my thigh to guide my movements and opening me up further to him.
“Sir,” I cry out; unsteady on one leg. I reach out and grab his arms.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you, Princess,” the man states, gripping my hips more
firmly in his hands as he turns his head and begins nipping and sucking on the delicate flesh of my inner, flabby, thigh.
I can’t control my reaction— I’m beyond trying to—and gasp as I’m hit with a bolt of pleasure.
“I can smell how wet you are,” the man mumbles against my skin, humming
with pleasure.
Another burst of pleasure hits me as he runs his tongue lightly along my bare folds, teasing me.
The first, only time, I let a man go down on me was anticlimactic in every sense of the word. I have no doubt this time will be different. This man is precise, patient, and exacting.
After a few more all too gentle swipes of his tongue, I’m burning with frustration. My hands find their way into his hair as he begins his unrelenting assault on my clit. I’m gasping for breath now and leaning back against the hard tiled wall as I push my sex further into his face, all in an attempt to get what I need from him. Release from this torture.
This man has a power over me that I can’t explain. Everything about him makes me come apart with pleasure.
It doesn’t take long until he has me writhing against his hold, and then all too quickly spent and out of breath. I would’ve fallen onto the hard tile floor if he hadn’t caught me in his arms.
Gripping my ankle gently, the man sets my foot back onto the tile. I sway
slightly as I catch my balance. Standing up, he holds me securely against his chest with one arm around my waist while his other hand tangles in my hair, tilting my head back. He kisses me, robbing me of what little breath I have left.
Before I have a chance to enjoy the assault, the man is tucking my head tightly against his shoulder.
I feel him press a kiss to my forehead, causing me to melt further into his arms.
He says something that I can’t make out over the noise of the shower spray.
“What?” I ask, tilting my head up to look into his face.
The man grins down at me, slowly gliding his hands down my back until he’s palming my ass. I can feel his thick erection wedged between us and I find myself growing excited once again. He grinds our bodies together for several pleasurable moments before he pulls away entirely. Switching off the shower, he opens the door and steps out.
Grabbing a towel from the rack, he quickly runs it over his body and then wraps it around his waist before turning back around to offer me his hand. As I place my hand in his and step over the threshold, I feel like I’m entering an entirely new world, one where I feel completely and utterly comfortable with this man. Against all rationality, I feel safe with him.
Somewhere between my shampoo and the breathtaking orgasm, I came to the
unconscious realization that I want to have sex with this man, that I want him to be my first. I know next to nothing about him, but for some insane reason, I trust he would never hurt me. With his strong, capable hands and warm wet mouth, not to mention his talented tongue, I have already experienced some of the pleasures he has to offer. Every cell in my body is humming— craving—for more.
“Let’s warm you up.” The man takes another warmed towel in one hand and
with the other, palms my ass and moves me closer to his body.
I can feel a contented groan reverberate in his chest as he leans down to nuzzle my neck.
No longer shy, I lean into his touch, letting my hands run down his sides to
anchor my hold on his hips. The man drops the towel and, using his free hand,
draws me in closer.
“Sir,” I laugh, pushing against his chest and away from him as he intentionally runs his fingertips lightly along my side. Tickling me.
