A small gift for your mid-week
“Nice shower,” Rose commented cheekily, standing in the doorway of the en suite as Peter concentrated on trying to shave.
He paused, razor frozen a few centimetres from his jaw, and focused on her reflection in the mirror. She was leaning casually against the doorjamb, and he noticed the pink tip of her tongue peeking out of her mouth. Her hair was still mussed from sleep. She’d found his shirt from the night before and pulled it on; he desperately hoped it was the only thing she’d put on. From what he could see, she’d fastened maybe two of the buttons, and he could see tantalizing glimpses of her creamy flesh peeping out from under the white cotton.
Peter returned his gaze to his own reflection. “It is, isn’t it? Reason I bought the house, actually.” He stretched his neck out and deftly ran the razor the last few strokes over his jaw, the skin shining pale and wet as the stubble and shaving cream were cleared away. A quick glance showed him that Rose was watching, enraptured, and he fought down a grin.
He gave the razor a quick swirl in the sink before tapping the excess water off and returning it to its perch on the porcelain. After a splash of water to clear the sink, he turned and crossed the small distance to Rose. How convenient that she was leaning next to the towel rack; he slowly removed one of the small hand towels without breaking her gaze. As he made to raise the small cloth to his face, she gently reached up and removed it from his hands.
“Is that so?” she asked, softly, as she reached up and gently cleaned the bits of foam and dribbles of water from his face. His eyes closed involuntarily, his entire body attuned to the sensation of her running the rough fabric over sensitive skin. He gasped, suddenly dizzy from her proximity, as she leaned in and slowly kissed her way along his newly-smooth jaw line.
“Mmm” was about the most coherent reply he could form at that point; his body was screaming for her to keep going and his mind was conveniently blank.
He could hear the smile in her voice as she finally said, “There you go.” She planted one final kiss on his cheek, where a dimple would be if he weren’t in such a bloody good mood, before leaning back slightly. He opened his eyes slowly to see her gently return the towel to the rack; he thought he might have to have that little piece of terrycloth bronzed. Later. Returning her eyes to his, she smiled slowly. “All clean.”
That smile had to go.
They were standing close enough that he could feel her breasts lightly brushing his naked chest, the coarseness of the cotton between their bodies only adding to the sensation, and he felt his body react. He placed his hands on her waist and pulled her hips towards his body, enjoying watching her reaction as she felt exactly what it was she was doing to him.
“What about you?” He had leaned in to whisper the question, voice low and intense, and was pleased to see the smile gone when he leaned back. Her eyes had grown quite dark, her irises just visible, and he felt himself harden further. She licked her lips, and he suddenly leaned forward, intent on capturing her mouth.
She met him halfway, and they spent the next few minutes pleasantly engaged in a battle of tongue and teeth and lips. When they parted, both were panting for breath; his pyjama bottoms were riding precariously low on his hips, supported largely because of his erection, while the shirt Rose was wearing had shifted so that her entire right shoulder was visible. As she caught her breath, he leaned back in and began to nibble his way along her collarbone, his arms pulling her flush against him as his teeth nipped and his tongue soothed her exposed skin. He felt her hands come to his hair, her fingers alternately running lightly through it or gripping it by the fistful.
Reaching the end of the exposed flesh, he returned his mouth to hers. She willingly returned his kisses, and he gently began to walk backwards, bringing her with him. Intent on the kiss, he fumbled with the door to the shower stall; Rose briefly pulled away, curious about what he was doing, and returned to kissing him with a smile as she worked out what he had in mind.
Door open, he reached in and spun the taps with his free hand, using his other to keep Rose as close to him as possible. A brief check told him the spray was more than warm enough, and with a quick step he moved the two of them under the running water and pulled the door closed after them.
Rose gasped and he ruthlessly took advantage of the opportunity, his tongue lightly exploring her mouth with delight. She leaned even further into him, and he felt her hands begin to drift slowly downwards, following the course of the water as it ran down his body, lightly tracing the skin along his ribs, finally resting on his hips. He could feel the soaked cotton of her(his) shirt clinging to her skin, and he gave her a few light kisses before leaning back.
She opened her eyes, taking a small step forward out of the stream of the water, and he felt his breath catch. Her hair was flowing in golden streams over her shoulders, and the now thoroughly soaked shirt clung to her in the most provocative way. There was nothing left to the imagination, and yet just enough was left covered that his memory and mind ran wild. He could easily see the contrasting colours of her skin, and raised a hand to trace his fingers over and around the dark nipple of her left breast; his other hand slowly ran along the line of buttons, seeking out the one or two that she had taken the time to close. She closed her eyes, head tilting back as he worked her breast, lightly rubbing, then pinching, tracing a finger in a small circle around her aureole before once more pinching her. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to have the shirt out of the way so he could follow his fingers with his tongue, and he impatiently ripped the shirt apart. He could hear the soft ‘plink’ of a button bouncing off the glass of the stall as he leaned forward and captured her right breast in his mouth while his hands held her still.
He felt her hands return to his hair, lightly ghosting over it as she looked down at him, and he felt himself grow even more turned on; he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to go before losing complete control. He raised his head, his eyes meeting hers, and he saw his want mirrored in her. He shifted his gaze downwards and reached forward, intent on exploring the tantalizing darkness at the join of her hips, but she scooted her legs backwards, placing a hand on his chest as though to hold him back. He looked up at her face in puzzlement.
“Not until you’re out of your pyjamas.” The look she was giving him would have convinced him to do just about anything she asked, and he moved his hands hastily to his side to remove the offending garment.
She again stopped him. “No. Let me.” She brought her body back in alignment with his, her gaze never leaving his. Her wet breasts rubbed enticingly against his chest as she slowly began to slide the fabric down; he nearly came when she reached down and gently handled his erection, being careful not to rake it with the waistband as she pulled the soaked cotton downwards. She looked up at him with a gleam in her eye before dropping to her knees to continue stripping him. He placed his hands on the sides of the shower stall, not entirely sure he’d be able to remain standing otherwise.
He watched as she kept her head at eye level with his hips, desperate for her to do something-anything-to his aching anatomy, but fascinated by the question of what she might have in store for him. The white cotton clung to her arms and shoulders, although her chest was still exposed, and he could think of very few things more erotic than the scene in front of him.
She lightly tapped his calves, guiding his legs out of the puddle of sodden fabric at his feet; when he was completely naked, she took the pyjama bottoms and made a small pad out of them for her knees. Once she was sure she was comfortable, she looked up at him and slowly grinned; he swallowed, and felt his knees grow weak. With that, she reached up and lightly encircled him with her hand; she broke their gaze briefly to get her bearings, and then returned her eyes to his as she leaned forward and slowly took him into her mouth. He let out a deep moan, his eyes closing and his head dropping back as she took him completely in, her tongue lightly dancing along his shaft as she slowly pulled away. She kissed the tip before plunging her mouth over him again; up and down, sometimes sucking as she moved her mouth over him, sometimes her touch so soft he barely knew she was there, each stroke with her mouth punctuated by light kisses along his shaft or the feel of her tongue dancing lightly around the tip. The sound of the water, the feel of Rose doing things with her mouth that should be illegal, knowing she was still wearing his bloody shirt: all of them combined to practically overwhelm his senses, and he began to worry he may actually pass out from the sensations. He raised his head, opening his eyes and bending forward so he could watch her at work, and he felt the slow crest of orgasm begin to pool inside him.
“Rose.” He gasped; she was pulling him closer to the edge, and he didn’t want to fall over without her. She slowly ran her tongue along his hardness, raising her eyes to his. He could see her smile as she continued to torment him with her mouth, daring him to stop her, and he focused what little coherent thought he had left on reaching a hand down to her head. “Rose, please…” Her grin widened, and he forced the next words out. “Not without you.”
She held his gaze as she slowly pulled him into her mouth again, the angle and the image conspiring to make him completely lose control. He threw his head back as she slowly sucked on him, ending with a pop, and he braced himself for another onslaught from her wicked mouth. The onslaught came, but not in the way he was expecting; after a brief pause with no contact from her at all, he felt her hands grab his shoulders and pull him forward for a kiss. She’d stood, covered by the sound of water, and he felt his erection twitch as her skin rubbed against his.
His arms wrapped around her, pulling her as close as he could without crushing her; he could taste himself in her mouth, and he felt as thought he couldn’t make their kisses deep enough. Her arms wrapped around his back, her hands playing with the hair at the back of his neck, and he felt her wiggle against him, trying to find some relief herself. He backed her against the tile of the stall, the spray of the shower once more flowing over their bodies, and picked her up with a strength born of want. Still kissing him, she brought her legs around his waist, her arms holding her tightly to him. He had one hand under her bum, supporting her; with his other, he reached in between their bodies. He wanted her, but he first had to pay her back a little bit; he lightly ran his fingers over her clit, feeling the nub grow more rigid as he slid his fingers along her folds, bringing her natural wetness forward so he could lightly play with her. She moved her head, trailing kisses along his jaw line until she reached his ear. As he teased her, she pulled his lobe into her mouth and began to suckle; she wasn’t playing fair, and he didn’t really care.
He felt her begin to writhe against him, and decided the time for games was well over. With a final flick of his fingers over her clit, he deftly grabbed his erection and lined it up with her ready body. He pushed forward, his tip resting just inside her opening, and moved his hand to join his other in supporting her weight. He pulled his head back, wanting to look at her as he made love to her against the shower wall, and she leaned her head back against the white tile, her heavy lidded eyes meeting his gaze. He leaned his torso fully forward, pressing her body in between his and the tile wall, and felt himself slide into her welcoming warmth. Her eyes flew completely open, and he paused; if he moved any faster, this would be over nearly before it began.
He slowly pulled out, moving forward to capture her mouth with his before once more pushing into her and setting a pace, punctuating his kisses with dirty statements and sweet nothings. She moved her hips to meet his thrusts as well as she could given her position, and they soon found themselves in a pounding rhythm, each desperate to drive the other to finish; as their bodies slapped against each other, the water hammered over them, rivulets dancing down their flesh and only adding to the overwhelming sensation.
He wiggled a hand free from supporting her, snaking it once more between their bodies and teasing her where they were joined; she soon came, groaning his name as she clenched around him. Her arms pulled him to her and he kissed her fiercely as he felt her aftershocks; he gently removed his hand from between them so it could once more join his other in supporting her. He continued to push himself into her, pull himself out, and she whispered dirty suggestions into his ear as his rhythm became frantic.
“Come for me, Peter.” The plea was, as all the others, whispered-but she was staring straight at him as she said it. He felt the wave of orgasm crash over him and spill into her, his body finding ecstatic release, and he fought to keep his eyes open so he could watch Rose see how she felt as he came. A few, final, frantic thrusts and he was spent, his body completely pressed against and into Rose, his breath shallow; he leaned his head against her shoulder as he continued to support her weight. The shower continued to pour water onto their joined bodies.
His brain finally registered that his arms were in fact quite tired, and he pulled back so Rose could slowly be lowered back to standing. He slipped out of her as she shifted and lowered her legs, but he kept his body against hers as she seemed to be a bit wobbly on her feet. He turned to his right and shut the water off, its effect now annoying on his over-sensitive skin, before returning his attention to Rose. She was resting her head against the cool tiles, her skin flushed pink; her eyes were closed.
He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips before taking a tentative step back. “You alright?” His hands remained at her waist, prepared to catch her if she fell; she slowly opened her eyes and grinned.
“Oh yeah. If that’s what you call getting clean, we need to do that more often.”
He smiled in response. “With pleasure.” He paused. “How do you feel about baths?”