Episode 8 Celeste #3
There’s a black solar bag filled with water up on the ground beside the zipped privacy tent.
“Step on in,” Paya states, unzipping the entrance flap, shower supplies in one arm.
I hesitate, unsure if I follow her inside.
“Yes, you.” She teases. The nylon zips shut behind us, trapping us into a tight space that’s barely wide enough for three people.
My pulse quickens under her gaze when she twists around and unhooks the shower head from the interior wall.
I’m standing here fully clothed, curious how this shower I’m getting being a guest is supposed to go.
She presses the handle into my palm. “Hold this for me?” Her tone is casual and innocent, opposite of the glint of mischief in her eyes.
The same one she let slip while we were stuck in the elevator.
I open my mouth to speak, but before I can answer, she reaches up and twists the valve. Warm water hisses from the nozzle, drenching her dark hair over her shorter frame.
“This okay?” She smiles as if taking a shower with her boss—well, technically that’s not the case while we’re on the island. I was the one who proposed that rule.
I blink and nod. I’m short on words from the way my brain short circuited when she reaches for the band of her swim suit bottom.
In one smooth motion, she slides the fabric down to her ankles and steps out of it completely, leaving her naked form the bottom down.
When she reaches for the body wash from my hands, she squeezes a dollop into her palm and lathers it between her hands, then slowly glides them over her collarbones, down her stomach, and around the curves of her waist. Heart officially pounding, I lick my lips.
I wasn't expecting my shower to have company, certainly not for the partially naked woman to be Paya.
I stand frozen in place, still holding the nozzle above her head as the water pools around us. She’s humming as she showers. I’m partially impressed by her boldness.
“You’re staring, Celeste,” she murmurs, a sharp smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Enjoying the view?”
“Hard not to,” I breathe, my voice barely a whisper. My eyes follow her sudsy hands as they continue massaging circles into her skin.
A light giggle releases from her throat while the weight of gaze makes my belly flip and flop.
Before I know it I’m reduced down to a shower head holder, angling the water to get the remaining soap to fall away.
She backs up against the wall of the shower tent and lifts a leg on the edge of the flat rock structure beneath us. The position opens to me.
The sound of her soft moan hits me before I can register what’s happening.
Paya slides her fingers down between her thighs and start rubbing her clit in tight circles.
My knees almost buckle as she turns and leans her back against me, her soft skin hot on mine sends a flash of pleasure down my spine.
She tilts her head back and fucks herself, stroking her pussy faster.
Her breathing forms into short, ragged pants as her fingers move faster, driving deep, slick strokes into her core.
The scent of both of our wetness blended with heat fills the air around us. My heart pounds, my hands squeezing the shower head tight, while acutely aware of how quiet we have to be because of the nearby camera crew.
Unable to take much of Paya’s teasing, I lower my free hand to address my own throbbing clit.
“Uh uh.” Paya twists around and holds up a finger, a devious smirk playing on her lips.
I freeze, my hand tucked just underneath my waist band and our gaze locked, I slowly extract it.
Now facing me, she’s watching me watching two fingers disappear deep inside repeatedly.
She massages her left breast over her swimsuit fabric and desire thrums through my veins imagining her rock hard nipple in my mouth.
Her moans increase in volume, and I don’t think I can take much longer of watching my assistant, although looking away isn’t an option either.
She grabs my free hand and muffles her mouth with it instantly.
Eyes on mine, she rubs her clit in tighter circles, faster until a tremor ripples through her thighs.
She muffles her scream of pleasure against my palm, eyes squeezing shut as she rides out her climax.
Somehow, I’m still holding the shower head above her as she slides her foot back down.
The water pressure sputters into a weak drizzle suddenly, the bag running completely empty.
Skin deliciously flushed post orgasm, Paya carefully takes the shower head from my hand, her wet fingers lingering against mine.
Without a word, she reaches for the plush towel on the rock and wraps it around herself before stepping out of the stall.
She faces me, her gaze drifting down to my lips and back up.
She leans in and brushes our lips together.
The sheer confidence of this woman leaves me speechless.
She pauses at the exit, tossing a glance over her bare shoulder with a knowing smile. “Your turn.”