I was dreading it. A web-conference. How many times did I go over the agenda? How many times did I rehearse and check my analysis? It caused a restless night and I had to get up early. Damn, I was tired and the dark circles under my eyes would require professional spackling to make me appear near human today. Well, best to start now, I thought.
Desperate for a long shower, I needed to feel the strong spray of water on my skin to pull me from this stupor and prepare for the day ahead.
Hitting the alarm as soon as it rang, though it had been unnecessary, sleep hadn’t found me, unfortunately, no snoozing this morning. How would I love to curl into you for those ten extra minutes. That would be too close to heaven. But I didn’t want to wake you, so innocent you appeared in sleep. Even in the darkened room, I saw your arm over your head and the covers pulled down nearly to your waist. Part of your muscular leg was dangling to the side, exposed and as much as I wanted to touch you, I had to get moving.
Flipping on the bathroom light, I squinted, not quite ready to greet the day and reaching to turn the faucet, the spray slowly began to warm.
Taking off my nightgown, I brushed out the tangles and put my hand into the stream, then adjusted the temperature a little. Satisfied, I jumped in and my skin immediately prickled. It felt good as my pores opened and I started washing my hair. Feeling the thick suds roll down my body, the lovely cream coloured foam against my skin, I began to feel renewed, but wished I was elsewhere. Thinking about you still warm in our bed, I got distracted and soap slipped into my eyes. Quickly, I put my face under the water. The soap trickled over my peaks, down past my belly, collecting and then dripping down my legs when I heard a soft sigh.
“Good morning,” I hummed appreciatively, as I watched you strip, “Did I wake you?”
“Yes…but only when I reached out and you weren’t there,” you said, walking into the shower and closing the door, “Good morning,” you mumbled, placing your hand on my shoulder, you gave me a light morning kiss and said, “Turn around.”
“But I have an appointment in a little over an hour.”
You nodded and took the soap in your large hands to start lathering my back. Strong fingers moved from my neck, across my shoulders and down my arms. “And?” You whispered as your fingers found their warm home.
I inhaled sharply and then all the objections tumbled around in my head, when I arched backwards, lathering you as well. Deliciously growing, your morning erection poked the small of my back.
“No, we can’t, I’ve got to go,” I said, trying to be responsible. But it didn’t work. Your finger slid out and started to stroke me. My thighs tensed when you hit that sweet spot.
“Sh-hhh…just relax,” you prompted, in that deep, morning timbre that aroused me so. There was a sexy grin on your face, and though I couldn’t see you; your voice revealed it. I was helpless against the sound and you knew I could do nothing but enjoy and let the tension slide away as you built a better one.
The lather had rinsed from my neck and you moved my wet hair away, placing your lips along my throat. You were saying something in one of the many languages you knew, always such a show-off, but I didn’t understand. It sounded like you were praying to my skin. Then you took your hardness and placed it between my lips. Rubbing against me, you moaned as your arms closed around me.
Reaching over my head to pull you in closer, you growled as your teeth started to nibble at the first skin you could find. Teeth delicately nipped creating a direct line from your mouth to my core. And you twitched, becoming stronger between my legs.
Turning me, you pushed and I was against the tile. Soaping your hands to lather my breasts, it was as though you were painting me. Then lifting my arms, you worked the soap up to my fingers and back down again. Your thumbs stopped to play with my nipples, rotating them in tight circles on the way down and slowly working the the lather to my navel. Your hands spanned across my waist and squeezing, you pulled me into you again.
You were fully awake now, staring intently at my mouth, looking hungry, when you leaned in to suck on my lower lip.
My breath came heavy and you entered my mouth. Humming, I closed my eyes when you deepened the kiss. As your tongue explored, so did your hands, then they came to rest on the curve of my hip and squeezed, as if testing the strength.
The water pounded on our skin, we were pink and fresh, the billowing steam hanging thick around us.
Breathing into me, your hand ran down to my leg and lifted it to wrap around you. Caressing my sweet relief in your fingers, you teased.
“You know…you’re going to be late love,” you said as you dipped inside me a little. Oh, you wanted to play, and I had to laugh.
Withdrawing, my eyebrows raised, I smirked, grabbing your hip and positioning myself perfectly to receive you, “And?” I smiled, throwing myself forward. You moaned as I closed in tight around you.
In half-lidded satisfaction, we watched each other in a steady rhythm until you groaned my name. I felt you harden even more as your rudimentary steel hammered. Wet on the inside and out, we slid against one another as you steadily picked up speed.
Tilting my hips I opened more and your length, fully retracting and slipping back inside was the heaven I had imagined and like a greedy animal, you dove back in.
Something in me snapped when you began to stroke that place that made me quiver. Every thought departed when I contracted around you. There were no words for either of us, only a driving need to complete the ride.
A crooked smile came, gracing your face and you turned me around roughly slapping my hands on the stone, covering them, holding me fast, you nestled inside me again.
Quickly your hands moved to my hips, your fingers digging into my flesh and you pulled me back against you.
“Harder,” I begged, “Please…”
And your hand snaked around to play with my hardening nerves, never varying your driving, frenetic pace.
My legs started shaking, and the tension was ready to burst.
Long and strong strokes, worked my climax to boiling when I whispered, “C-come with me…” My walls started to clench around you for the last time.
Crying aloud, your hand twined into my wet hair and pulled me closer, trying to bury yourself so far into me, I felt impaled and I could have cared less if you split me in two at that moment.
Panting hard in my ear, you abruptly stopped until the first shot filled; then riding the climax, pumped until you were dry.
My legs couldn’t hold me any longer and slipping out, felt you drip down my thigh. Then the hot spray washed you away.
Catching me, you turned me around and kissed my nose, “You’re late love…”