88. Bailey
eighty-eight
Bailey
I’m hot. And sticky. Why am I sticky? I try to stretch, my eyes opening a bit and I’m startled by a big ass arm wrapped around my chest. Holy shit.
That really happened. I blink rapidly until my vision clears and I see him, lips parted, soft breaths escaping.
Beautiful. But also, yikes. I need a shower immediately.
I slowly untangle myself from his limbs and wince when I go to stand, my muscles and ass reminding me that it has, in fact, been too long. My lips curve into a dopey smile as I take quiet steps into the bathroom, not wanting to wake him.
I sigh in relief when the toothpaste floods my funky mouth, already feeling better but still looking forward to a hot shower.
The mirror fogs with steam as I ready my towels and give myself a quick glance.
I look well and truly fucked. Hair a mess and cheeks flushed.
A chuckle escapes as I step in, reveling in the way my muscles immediately relax.
I finish washing my face and am startled when I see movement out of my periphery. “Jesus,” I hiss.
“What?” he says, winking at me in the mirror, toothbrush in hand.
“You scared me!” I explain, though I really shouldn’t have to. He knew what he was doing.
He finishes rinsing and lets himself in, a sly smile on his lips. “Oh,” he says, “you thought you could shower without me?”
“You were sleeping so peacefully I didn’t want to wake you,” I explain.
He takes a step closer, “Bailey, I’m only going to say this once,” he says, grabbing my chin in a firm grip. “If we are under the same roof, you will not be naked without me.”
“What if I’m using the bathroom?” I say with a grin.
“Don’t push it, freckles. I’ve waited years for this,” he says, voice deep, demanding.
I swallow thickly. Okay, so he’s serious. My dick thickens under his gaze, his possessive tone doing something for me.
“Okay,” I whimper as his lips caress my jawline, the water pelting across my skin as his chest brushes against mine.
“Good,” he says with a grin, as he takes my shampoo in his hands and begins to lather my hair.
His fingers are like fucking heaven, massaging my scalp with perfect pressure. I might actually die from this. I close my eyes and let him finish, hoping maybe a second wash is on the table.
“Rinse,” he says.
I whine, but stick my head back under the spray.
He lathers his hands with my body wash and moves behind me, washing my neck, my back, then moving to my ass.
The weight of his hands on my body is mesmerizing.
The firm pressure he kneads into my ass cheeks is perfection and I can’t help but whimper as my length hardens, wishing he’d avert his attention sooner rather than later.
I feel a washcloth between my ass cheeks and my face heats at the thought of his cum being inside me. I can’t believe I fell asleep like that.
My thoughts are interrupted when the cloth hits the floor with a thwop and his hands move to my arms and chest.
He grabs the second cloth and I can’t help but giggle when he washes my armpits.
“Oh my god, you’re so ticklish,” he laughs against my skin, his erection flush against my ass now.
“Fuck you, I can’t help it,” I say, trying to sound argumentative but failing miserably.
He kisses my shoulder as his hands go to my balls, gently tugging and massaging them with soak-slicked hands. He’s careful not to touch my aching dick—the teasing making the pleasure almost unbearable.
I absentmindedly reach for it, desperately needing some relief, but he swats my hand away.
“Tsk. Not yet.”
“But why,” I breathe, pitifully.
“I’ll tell you when you can touch what’s mine,” he says into my ear before taking it between his teeth.
I whimper, legs trembling as he pours more body wash onto his hands in front of me and then takes his sweet fucking time running both hands up and down my length. I watch his hands move, slowly, gently, almost cruel in their ministrations.
“Fuck,” I groan, my breaths picking up speed as I try to stay upright.
My eyes fling open as he suddenly stops and steps away, “Wha—?” I pout, brows furrowed in confusion.
His smile stretches across his perfect face as he steps in front of me, “I’m dirty too,” he says.
He can’t be serious. My dick is throbbing. Leaking precum while I stand here, dumbstruck.
I watch, mouth open as he lathers up, leisurely cleaning himself, taking extra time on his hard length, manipulating his piercings, never breaking eye contact.
The smirk never leaves his mouth. Running those perfect hands over his pecs, circling his nipple piercings, his abs, obliques.
I’m going to have a fucking heart attack. What a way to go, though.
He holds my gaze as he pulls his hands behind him, washing his ass, wholly unbothered by my presence.
“That’s so fucking hot,” I sputter.
He laughs, and the sound goes straight to my dick. He gingerly steps under the stream to rinse himself, closing his eyes briefly before returning them to my own.
I close my mouth, at this point I’m not even sure which way is up and I am dying for him to touch me. Want me to beg? You’ve got it.
“Lolly, please,” I say, not caring at all how pathetic I sound.
“Please, what?”
“Something,” I breathe. “Anything,” I add, heart pounding inside my chest.
He pulls me to him, kissing me breathless. The heat between us erupts as my hands find his skin, not stopping for purchase, but needing all of him. Everything.
“Thank fuck,” I mutter against his lips.
He smiles, laughing as he pulls back to look at me. “I still can’t believe it’s you I’m touching,” he says quietly.
The words swirl within my chest and my head spins when he presses his lips to mine again.
His dick brushes mine and I groan, unable to stop the needy pants and moans from escaping my mouth.
I gasp when his hand wraps around our lengths, stroking them slowly together as his tongue glides against mine.
The water, his taste, his scent, his touch. It’s so overwhelming I can’t form a coherent thought, let alone speak anything comprehensible.
He kisses me dizzy then drops to his knees in front of me, peering up at me through dark lashes, a wicked grin on his lips.
“Oh fuck,” I croak, suddenly unable to stand up straight.
He laughs and steadies me, his hands on my hips, and then he pulls me into his mouth, groaning around my length. It’s better than anything. Better than everything. “Holy fucking fuck,” I manage as I grab his shoulders to steady myself.
I can’t believe this is really happening. To me. This man is on his knees, in my shower, swallowing my dick, and I am fucking toast. Toasted toast.
“Lolly, fuck, I’m already close.”
He meets my gaze as he strokes himself, then he swallows around me and I lose it. Streams of unintelligible expletives and vowels leave my mouth as he pulls me toward the edge.
Stars explode behind my eyelids as I erupt, my orgasm dragging out, threatening to send my brain right out behind my load. He moans around my length as he finds his release and I watch in fascination as he shoots ropes of cum onto my feet and the shower floor.
“Don’t swallow,” I exhale through panting breaths.
His eyes widen, pupils dilated, as he stands before me, our chests rising and falling rapidly.
I blink up at him, waiting.
And then he takes my face in his hands and presses his lips to mine. He parts for me and I taste my release on his tongue as he delivers my own pleasure back to me. “Mmm,” I hum, perfectly content. Sated. Whole.
We make out until the water turns cold. I find him some briefs and my favorite pajama pants and can’t help but smile when they land above his ankles. “Cute,” I say, nodding toward the flood-ready pants.
He puts his hand on his hip and bats his eyes, “I know, right?”
I can’t help but laugh, just so fucking happy he’s real.