Natalie takes her shower

Natalie stood with her back against the closed door, hand still resting on the knob.

The bathroom was warm from his shower, as the steam was clinging faintly to the mirror, fogging up the glass. The air smelled like his body wash—something clean, citrusy maybe, and the scent alone made her pulse stir in her throat. She was glad she couldn’t see her own reflection looking back at her through the fog.

She hadn’t meant to look back, but she had, and he’d still been there watching her.

She slipped the robe from her shoulders, letting it fall in a soft heap to the floor. The memory of how he looked clung to her skin like the steam was. His lean, sculpted frame, still damp hair slicked back from the shower, bare chest a flushed pink from the heat. His stomach wasn’t just flat, it was ribbed for her pleasure, she thought smiling to herself as she remembered the subtle definition of his abs. A faint, enticing V of muscle was also just visible above his hips. The thin, dark trail of hair, just as she’d glimpsed that first morning he’d come out to say goodbye to Lisa, disappearing precisely down the center of his taut belly beneath the low-slung towel. And beneath that towel, pressing forward, was a subtle, but undeniable bulge he’d tried to unsuccessfully hide.

Her skin still tingled in places, a ghostly echo of sensation, as though anticipating something that hadn’t yet happened. As though responding to a fleeting moment that was barely a moment at all.

She turned toward the mirror, catching only a hazy glimpse of herself through the steam still clinging to the glass from his shower. Her reflection was still muted. She could feel the tightness across her chest though, and the way her breath hadn’t fully settled.

This wasn’t like her. She almost felt ashamed, like it was wrong considering her relationship with Lisa. Yet… it was also the kind of thrill that came from doing something you knew you shouldn’t, because it was exciting, and a secret all your own. Because it made your skin feel too tight and your thoughts scatter from the things you needed to be thinking about, or getting done. The kind of impulse that lived right next to bad decisions and dared you to cross the line anyway.

He was twenty. Twelve years younger. Lisa’s son.

And still, none of that had stopped her from leaning in the doorway like that, or from letting the robe stay loose for when he opened the door, from turning back to look for one last glance, expecting him to be walking away.

She drew in a breath and stepped toward the shower, turning the water back on, needing the heat to clear her head, and burn away whatever that had been.

She stepped into the shower without hesitation, letting the warm mist envelope her as the water greeted her skin. It was still heated from his shower, and hadn’t needed much time to come back. Just like him, already gone, but still lingering.

She faced the spray, letting it rush over her collarbones, her breasts, her stomach, embracing the warm water. Closing her eyes and tilting her chin down slightly, she exhaled as the stream licked across her chest and ran down her belly.

When she opened them again, she noticed something just ahead at chest level on the tiled wall. A smear of thick, pearlescent residue clung where the water didn’t reach. She blinked, squinting.

Must be his body wash. Not the bright green gel he usually left in the caddy, but a heavier, off-white kind he must’ve used from the sample bottles she kept in the cabinet. A thicker formula. He must’ve left it behind without realizing.

Careless, like you’d expect from a twenty-year-old boy, she thought.

She reached forward and wiped it away with her hand. It was stickier than expected, slow to dissolve and rinse under the water. It clung for a moment before the stream finally swept it clean, down the drain.

That little streak of his body wash reminding her of his age and the mess he’d sometimes leave behind. It was a forgettable mark of him on the tile in front of her.

What else could his age provide though?

She sighed, leaning forward slightly, letting the water pool in the hollow behind her collarbones before it trailed down the rest of her.

God, Nat. Get a grip.

But her body didn’t care what she told herself, and it responded anyway. Every inch of her skin seemed to pulse with the memories of their recent proximity, or of glances, of tension that was no longer hypothetical, but after this morning, undeniable. And somehow, standing here where he had been only minutes ago, she felt more mentally naked than she had all morning.

She stood with her arms under her breasts, collecting the water running steadily over her chest, and let her mind drift back to the hallway. The way she’d stood there. The robe barely closed. Her body flushed, whether from her yoga, or from the thought of him watching.

It may have been impulsive, but there was no denying it was intentional in how she stood waiting for her turn. She’d leaned in the doorway, aware of every inch of herself, of the way the fabric hung loosely around her thighs on purpose. Of the way his eyes had dropped and how she hadn’t immediately covered up. Taking a few moments to sink in, what she was inviting.

Right or wrong, the moment had already happened and now… now she couldn’t stop replaying it.

She shifted slightly, lowering her arms and allowing the water to trail along her stomach once more, running over what she always thought was a rather cute belly button before slipping lower and catching in the narrow landing strip. Her breath becoming a little heavier.

With a quiet motion, she reached for the showerhead, pulling the wand free from its base. Her thumb moved without thinking, adjusting it to the right setting with a soft click until the stream narrowed, pulsing.

She didn’t even look down as she leaned back against the wall, the cool tile kissing her spine as she brought the wand lower. Eyes closed, head tipped back, she let the heat and silence close in around her.

Enjoying the story? You can support my work on Patreon where this story is currently through chapter 78 at the time of this posting. Happy reading!