She reaches out, determines the water is warm enough, and we step under the spray. She wasn’t kidding that the shower is small but I expected as much. And I couldn’t care less. All I’m thinking about is the gorgeous, naked woman pressed against me, kissing me, stroking my cock. She’s sensual, beautiful, alluring. I can’t stop staring, kissing, touching her.
“I need to taste you,” she murmurs.
Before I can stop her, she’s dropped down so she’s sitting on the edge of the tub—and running her tongue right up the bottom of my shaft.
“Fuck, baby, that’s nice.” I want to tell her she doesn’t have to do this—I never expect anything—but it feels too good to get the words out.
And she hasn’t even sucked me yet.
All she’s done so far is lick and kiss. The tip, the underside, my balls. Like we have all the time in the world. I guess we do. Neither of us have anywhere to be until Tuesday. At least, that’s what she insinuated when she said she’s off Sundays and Mondays. I certainly have nowhere to be until soundcheck on Tuesday around five o’clock.
Her lips are soft as she nibbles and kisses, teasing me into arousal. I’m so hard right now it’s almost painful—but it’s a wonderful kind of pain. The kind of pain that’s going to lead to unbelievable pleasure.
She leans out of the shower, holding my thigh with one hand as she grabs for one of the glasses of bourbon. She fills her mouth with the amber liquid, sets the glass on the closed toilet seat, and then sucks me deep.
“Oh, fuck.” My hands move into her hair and I brace my feet.
I already know this is going to be good. No, this is going to be great. It already is. The cool splash of liquid against the heated skin on my dick is an erotic dichotomy that has me pumping in and out of her mouth. But she doesn’t need my help—she knows what she’s doing as she sucks, licks, and nibbles my cock.
One hand closes around the bottom of the shaft, gripping firmly but not so hard it’s jarring, and she strokes me, keeping the same rhythm with her mouth.
Fuck. Me.
I’m going to shoot so hard and fast you’d think I haven’t had sex in a year.
“Baby, I’m going to… God damn!” I can’t stop the pleasure racing down my spine and I jerk against her, pulsing in her mouth as she swallows every drop.
Then she looks up with a grin. “How’s that for inappropriate?”
I chuckle and tug her to her feet. “I like when you’re inappropriate.”
We kiss again, tongues swirling as the water sluices over us.
“Now it’s my turn to be inappropriate,” I breathe against her lips.
“Yes, please.”
“How about we finish cleaning up and then move this to the bed so I can devote the appropriate amount of time and attention to your pussy?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
We wash up quickly and dry off, talking and stealing kisses the entire time. Twelve hours ago we’d never set eyes on each other—now we’re showering, and getting ready for bed together, like we do it every day.
She reaches into a cabinet and pulls out some condoms, handing them to me. “You’re in charge from this point forward—is that fair?”
“Absolutely.” I drop the towel, grab the condoms, and drag her into the bedroom.
Somewhere along the way, we finished the bourbon, and there’s a faint buzz thrumming through my veins. Between the shower and what I hope will be fantastic sex, I’m going to sleep well tonight. Today. It’s starting to get light out but I don’t care—all I’m thinking about is this gloriously naked creature who’s just climbed onto the bed.
“On your back,” I say gruffly, watching her flip over and spread her thighs.
“I’m suddenly starving,” I whisper.
“There’s pie in the fridge,” she says with a mischievous smile, pretending to start to get up.
“Lay your ass back down,” I growl. “What I’m about to eat is far sweeter than pie—and a lot more satisfying.”
I dip my head and stare at the feast awaiting me.
