I slipped inside the bathroom as quickly as I could, closing the door behind me. I ran the shower, adjusting the water's temperature, still shaking from my encounter with William. I could smell his cigarette, the scent wafting up from the crack between the door and the tiled floor of the bathroom. I knew he was upset, he usually only smoked, at least around me, when he was bothered or need to think.
I stripped off my work clothes, and looked in the mirror. My skin was pale, my pulse still racing with fright and desire. Opening my mouth, I examined my tongue. The small gash still bled a bit and stung my taste buds. Grimacing, I gargled a mouthful of water and stepped into the shower.
Steam filled the small bathroom as I let the hot water stream over me, soothing my aching muscles and ragged nerves. The water helped calm me, and I decided to just forget what happened, just as I forgot how I comforted him in the middle of the night. I'm sure he would do the same. This way, everything was so much easier, so much simpler. I didn't understand why he did it. Why did he kiss me, what did I do, what happened? Not that I regretted it, except for the fact that it turned out to be extremely awkward. I almost wondered what I could do to trigger such a reaction in him again, but scolded myself for such thoughts.
I shampooed my hair, soaped my body, the movements comforting me and relaxing me slowly but surely. Even after all the suds were rinsed away, I remained in the shower, the hot water running down my naked body, closing my eyes and savoring the sensation. I sighed, taking a breath, feeling the air move in and out of me, finally, completely relaxed.
I heard the bathroom door open and shut slowly, but I didn't pay it any attention. I was
almost in a drugged stupor from my twenty minute shower, and didn't even think of locking the door when I first came in. I ignored the sound completely, but then, the fogged, glass door of the shower slid open, and I stared into the white steam surrounding me, my mind blank, not frightened, just uncomprehending.
Through the white clouds, I soon saw William's face, his hair blending into the whiteness of the steam. I was beyond surprised, but my feet remained where they were, the water coursing down upon us. After a long moment of staring at each other intensely, I came to my senses, opening my mouth to speak, to scream at him, to tell him in no uncertain terms to leave. He held one long finger to my lips before I could say a thing, quieting my protests with one smooth gesture. He swept me against him, my bare wet breasts crushed into the hardness of his chest, and kissed me until I thought I would go mad.
I was astonished. I didn't freeze, I didn't tense up. I kissed him back furiously, running my hands all over him, everywhere, glorying in the feel of his warm, wet flesh.
I traced my fingers down his chest and into the indentations of his washboard stomach, and lower, teasing him along the waistband of the jeans he wore, though they were soaking wet, clinging to his form. I undid the fly, pulling them down his narrow hips and depositing them on the floor. I shuddered as he squeezed his naked body to mine, his tongue probing and caressing my own. I could feel him, long, hard and ready, prodding my hip, and I reached down, putting my hand around him. He made a soft sound of pleasure, laced with frustrated anticipation, and backed me against the tiled wall of the tiny shower.
He grabbed my wet thighs, wrapping my legs about his waist, lifting me so that the wall was a source of leverage. Roughly, he thrust inside me, and I gasped, loud and sharp into his ear. It was a beautiful pain, he so large, nearly filling me to the breaking point. He moaned softly, finding me scalding hot and soaking wet, closing around him so tightly. Soon, he moved with smooth, expertly timed strokes, starting slowly at first, and building a strong momentum, taking my pleasure higher and higher. Cries and moans tore from my lips as I fell into his rhythm, rising to meet him, until I could barely take it anymore. The orgasm was upon me before I even realized it, lighting every nerve in my body with the most exquisite pleasure I had ever experienced. I screamed, scraping my nails down his back, leaving angry red lines in their wake. He echoed me, his cry of ecstasy muffled against my neck, so that I could feel the vibrations along my skin.
We slid to the floor of the shower in a heap, him still inside of me, our limbs entwined. We stayed that way, until our pulses returned to normal, and the water ran
cold. I attempted to stand and stop the shower, but I could barely get to my feet. William picked me up with unimagined ease, wrapping me in a big thirsty towel.
I remember vividly him carrying me to my bed, and setting me upon it, him leaning over me, smoothing my hair back, and looking at me with such a tenderness,
tenderness that made my heart ache with a dull, almost chronic pain. I looked up at him, knowing that I could never actually keep him, not really, that he gave himself
to someone else long ago, and there was nothing I could do to keep him with me except hope that he would stay, though deep inside, I knew he wouldn't, and it was
only a matter of time until well....
I sighed, reach up and caressing his face with my hand.
He was so beautiful, so unbelievably perfect, I couldn't get over it. We just stared at each other, not saying a word, and not really needing to. I cupped his face in both of my hands, pulling him down to me, and kissed him, softly, lingeringly, passionately, and it started all over again, a dangerously absorbing cycle...We made love three more times that night...
I stripped off my work clothes, and looked in the mirror. My skin was pale, my pulse still racing with fright and desire. Opening my mouth, I examined my tongue. The small gash still bled a bit and stung my taste buds. Grimacing, I gargled a mouthful of water and stepped into the shower.
Steam filled the small bathroom as I let the hot water stream over me, soothing my aching muscles and ragged nerves. The water helped calm me, and I decided to just forget what happened, just as I forgot how I comforted him in the middle of the night. I'm sure he would do the same. This way, everything was so much easier, so much simpler. I didn't understand why he did it. Why did he kiss me, what did I do, what happened? Not that I regretted it, except for the fact that it turned out to be extremely awkward. I almost wondered what I could do to trigger such a reaction in him again, but scolded myself for such thoughts.
I shampooed my hair, soaped my body, the movements comforting me and relaxing me slowly but surely. Even after all the suds were rinsed away, I remained in the shower, the hot water running down my naked body, closing my eyes and savoring the sensation. I sighed, taking a breath, feeling the air move in and out of me, finally, completely relaxed.
I heard the bathroom door open and shut slowly, but I didn't pay it any attention. I was
almost in a drugged stupor from my twenty minute shower, and didn't even think of locking the door when I first came in. I ignored the sound completely, but then, the fogged, glass door of the shower slid open, and I stared into the white steam surrounding me, my mind blank, not frightened, just uncomprehending.
Through the white clouds, I soon saw William's face, his hair blending into the whiteness of the steam. I was beyond surprised, but my feet remained where they were, the water coursing down upon us. After a long moment of staring at each other intensely, I came to my senses, opening my mouth to speak, to scream at him, to tell him in no uncertain terms to leave. He held one long finger to my lips before I could say a thing, quieting my protests with one smooth gesture. He swept me against him, my bare wet breasts crushed into the hardness of his chest, and kissed me until I thought I would go mad.
I was astonished. I didn't freeze, I didn't tense up. I kissed him back furiously, running my hands all over him, everywhere, glorying in the feel of his warm, wet flesh.
I traced my fingers down his chest and into the indentations of his washboard stomach, and lower, teasing him along the waistband of the jeans he wore, though they were soaking wet, clinging to his form. I undid the fly, pulling them down his narrow hips and depositing them on the floor. I shuddered as he squeezed his naked body to mine, his tongue probing and caressing my own. I could feel him, long, hard and ready, prodding my hip, and I reached down, putting my hand around him. He made a soft sound of pleasure, laced with frustrated anticipation, and backed me against the tiled wall of the tiny shower.
He grabbed my wet thighs, wrapping my legs about his waist, lifting me so that the wall was a source of leverage. Roughly, he thrust inside me, and I gasped, loud and sharp into his ear. It was a beautiful pain, he so large, nearly filling me to the breaking point. He moaned softly, finding me scalding hot and soaking wet, closing around him so tightly. Soon, he moved with smooth, expertly timed strokes, starting slowly at first, and building a strong momentum, taking my pleasure higher and higher. Cries and moans tore from my lips as I fell into his rhythm, rising to meet him, until I could barely take it anymore. The orgasm was upon me before I even realized it, lighting every nerve in my body with the most exquisite pleasure I had ever experienced. I screamed, scraping my nails down his back, leaving angry red lines in their wake. He echoed me, his cry of ecstasy muffled against my neck, so that I could feel the vibrations along my skin.
We slid to the floor of the shower in a heap, him still inside of me, our limbs entwined. We stayed that way, until our pulses returned to normal, and the water ran
cold. I attempted to stand and stop the shower, but I could barely get to my feet. William picked me up with unimagined ease, wrapping me in a big thirsty towel.
I remember vividly him carrying me to my bed, and setting me upon it, him leaning over me, smoothing my hair back, and looking at me with such a tenderness,
tenderness that made my heart ache with a dull, almost chronic pain. I looked up at him, knowing that I could never actually keep him, not really, that he gave himself
to someone else long ago, and there was nothing I could do to keep him with me except hope that he would stay, though deep inside, I knew he wouldn't, and it was
only a matter of time until well....
I sighed, reach up and caressing his face with my hand.
He was so beautiful, so unbelievably perfect, I couldn't get over it. We just stared at each other, not saying a word, and not really needing to. I cupped his face in both of my hands, pulling him down to me, and kissed him, softly, lingeringly, passionately, and it started all over again, a dangerously absorbing cycle...We made love three more times that night...
