This fantastic shower tease story is written and read by Sundial, and originally appeared on her blog.
I got back from work late on Friday, grateful to get in out of the cold. I found you in the kitchen, already getting dinner underway. I was tired after the week, exhausted really. You beckoned me to you, wrapped your arms around me and kissed the top of my head. I leant against you, enjoying the feeling of closeness, completeness, that you give me. A sense of pure relief to be with you, just you.
“It’s good to see you,” you said, then, “would you please undress?”
I obliged you.
You opened the dishwasher and I got to work, emptying it while you chopped vegetables and prepared a sauce. We worked quietly together, my nudity a norm for us. Later we would talk, but you know I like time to just be, to let the day go and arrive.
So the doorbell, when it went, startled me.
“Get that, would you?”
I looked at you, down at my nakedness, eyes wide, a secret thrill running through me.
Walking down the hallway, I wondered who might be calling, had I ordered something? I opened the door, hiding my body behind it. But instead of a delivery person, I found him standing on the other side, thoroughly unexpected!
Without thought, I pulled the door wide open, a grin plastered on my face, my heart rate spiking. Really here, or dreaming? How is it that I always forget how tall he actually is? This fact about him never fails to surprise and please me. He stepped in, smirking at my nudity.
“Ready for me, little bird?” He put his bag down.
Blushing, I couldn’t stop smiling at him. He pulled me into his arms, the canvas of his coat cold against my skin, my nipples hardening. He smelt of fresh air, and that uniquely him muskiness. One cold hand slipped into my hair, over my ear, the other ran a line of goosebumps down my back to my hip. Sound muffled, I closed my eyes, breathed in his scent and let memories caress me. The warmth of his breath in my hair, sending a wave of shivers down my neck.
“Come, warm yourself.” You eying our embrace with that amused smile on your lips. His hands let me go, he shrugged out of his coat, stepped over to you and embraced you too.
“Good to see you, mate. How was your flight?”
You small-talked your way back to the kitchen with him and settled him at the table with a glass of water. I followed, leant against the doorframe watching you both, feeling thoroughly content in my tiredness. You continued talking, each of you glancing at me from time to time, those flicks of your eyes, those occasional gifts of a smile warming my senses, and I realised I had been feeling low again.
Later, I sat in your embrace, my back against your chest and you held me to you. I listened to you talking, stayed silent. Just enjoying being with you both. He took my feet into his lap and idly massaged them, and it felt so good. I felt so damned good; safe, at home.
He went to freshen up and change into something lighter. You held me tight against you.
“So, what are we going to do with you? What do you want, tonight?” Your voice, quiet in my ear.
I thought about it, imagined taking a shower, letting the water run over me, letting the week just go, then later a gentle fuck together.
“I’d like a shower.”
“That so?” Amusement. “Come on then.”
You rose, pulled me up with you. Knocked on the bathroom door, pushed it open, guided me in with one hand on the back of my neck. This tiny gesture of ownership and control both calming and igniting me.
Caught naked in the middle of the room, he let his arms fall to his sides, unashamed. His cock growing. The room smelt of his things, of him.
Looking at him, your hand on my neck, I felt that gorgeous physical and mental flip to pure wanton desire. My lips parting, I watched his cock hardening, hungry for a taste.
“You want to shower together?” you asked.
His hand rose, fastened on to my chin, pulled my head up and I tore my gaze away from his dick, saw the question in his eyes. I nodded my consent.
“I’ll get you a towel,” you told him.
You took your hand away, and I felt that sudden, sense of shyness that makes me feel ridiculous. I blushed, looked instinctively down, got an eye-full of his straining cock, my cheeks on fire, my body alive to him.
He didn’t let go of my chin, raised it further, so that I looked at him again. And oh, how that turned me on. His grip hard, fleeting memories of his strength. He stared back at me, unsmiling, and in my confusion, I couldn’t read him. You came back into the room, stopped to watch us.
He shot you a glance, looked back at me a long moment, and I think I must have looked half terrified of him, because then, so softly it felt like I sensed rather that heard it:
“I won’t hurt you.”
And that of course made me want him to hurt me. I can’t say why, maybe it was just the way he said it, the ultimate gentleness of it, when I know damn well how strong he is. Oh, I very definitely wanted him to hurt me. To overpower me, to fuck me hard and hurt me.
With a snort, you let me know you knew exactly what I was thinking.
He turned his head a little, looked down at me through narrowed eyes and let out a single sound from deep in his throat. His fingers tightened on my chin and he pushed it a fraction further up so I felt my neck straining, his eyes staring into mine, the gentleness in him receding as he took stock.
His assessment of me lasted seconds, but long enough for me to become aware of how wet I was getting. I squirmed, reached my hands for his cock and you let out another snort, clearly enjoying our interplay.
“Don’t make her come. I’ll be in the kitchen.”
He nodded, let my chin go with a casual flick, that pleased me inordinately.
The water was steaming hot, goosebumps broke over us both. He spilled shower gel into our hands, turned off the water and we got busy, soaping each other. It was playful, his hands all over me, groping, tickling and spanking, mine trying to soap him while defending myself. I imagined you in the kitchen, hearing the slaps and the giggles. He let me soap-tease his dick a moment.
He turned on the water again and stroked the soap off me. Long slow strokes setting me on fire. Then he took shampoo and washed out my hair, let it rinse too.
I took his wrist, turned him to face the wall. A moment’s feast for my eyes, watching the water running down his back. I reached my hands up to his shoulders, licked over his spine, felt rather than heard his exhalation. I let my teeth graze him, fingernails scraping over his traps, his shoulders, until he shivered.
I snaked my hands under his arms, and he raised his, put his palms flat on the wall. My fingers found his nipples, my nails drew lines over them, my tits pressing into his back.
Slowly I let my hands trace their way down, bending, I bit him, gently, just where the swell of his ass begins. My hands found his cock, fully hard and ready.
He turned, and I sank to my knees, took him into my mouth, the water spilling down over us. I looked up at him, face wet, hair plastered flat. His head angled down, he watched me taking his length in, great drops falling from him into my face, my eyes. He pushed my hair back, held his hands over my ears. I closed my eyes, took him into my throat, deeply enjoying the sensory experience. I felt that pure submissive joy, and I lost myself to it.
“No, I don’t want to come yet.” His voice gravelly in his pleasure.
He pulled me up to standing. Held me to him a moment, his chin resting on my head, his arms wrapped around me firmly, his cock pulsing against my stomach. He gathered himself.
And then, he got to his knees in front of me. He just knelt there a moment, staring at my tits, the water running over his face. Ridiculous, how hot that regard made me. I closed my eyes again, feeling the shape of his head with my hands, the texture of his beard. His mouth closed around the fingers of my right hand, he did that thing with his tongue, sweeping circles, tickling between them. How can that be such a damn turn on? Fuck’s sake, fire, fire.
I opened my eyes, looked at him. His were closed, water trickling over them. As I watched, his mouth relinquished my fingers and found my breast. He kissed the underside, lifting it with his chin, his beard a sensory pleasure. I closed my eyes too and just let myself feel his tease.
His hands cupped my buttocks, massaged them, his mouth alive on my tits, nipples sucked in, released and sucked in again.
One of his hands slid up my inner thigh, his fingers probing at my sex. Slipping inside me, two or three of them. He stroked at my g-spot and his thumb drew a line over my clit. My breath caught, your command in my ear: “Don’t make her come.” On the edge. Oh, so close.
“No,” I pushed his hand away.
He stood, stopped the water and turned to look at me, reached a hand down between my legs again.
“I’m going to make you come so hard tonight. Gonna blow your mind, little bird.”
His eyes dark, a smile on his lips. And his confidence and a stray finger near destroyed me there and then.
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