Well, maybe next chapter. This is more gooey romance stuff.

“What you did to that guy was brutal!” Christine is unlocking the door to her rental property. You can see a canister of pepper spray hanging from her keychain.

“You’re no slouch yourself. While I won’t ask why you’re carrying an illegal weapon, I certainly am happy that you do.” You slip your arm around her waist as she pushes the door open, and realize that your other hand, and in fact your entire right arm are covered in Broken Nose’s blood.

“Girl in my profession has to be able to defend herself.” She crosses the threshold and flicks on a light switch illuminating a cozy living room with a couch, a single chair, and a fairly large entertainment center. She turns and smiles at you, eyes half lidded and still smoldering with lust. “I’d like to clean up a little. Want to see my bathroom?”

A wet dream come true. You take in your surroundings as she leads you through the living room to a small but well appointed lavatory, nothing like the spectacular one at your safe house, but with a sizable shower and whirlpool bath combo. The decor of the house is Modern American Pagan, pentacles and dragons in evidence everywhere. A small black cat follows the two of you into the bathroom.

Christine bends over to pet the little one giving you another view of that fantastic ass. “Pyewacket, I’d like you to meet Jimmy. He came to Mommy’s rescue tonight.”

Pyewacket, who appears to be at least a little bit Siamese, sniffs at you for a moment before rubbing up against your ankle, thus accepting and claiming you as hers. “Strange. She usually doesn’t take to men so quickly,” Christine smiles as she starts the shower, “Not that there have been many of them recently. By the way, I can’t have you thinking of me as Pandora if you’re going to be sticking that big dick in me. Call me Chrissy.”

Truly seeing Chrissy naked for the first time in the harsh lights of her bathroom, you take a minute to study her body. The beginnings of laugh lines and crow’s feet are showing around her eyes and mouth, although well disguised by makeup. Her lips, though obviously inflated, look natural, although they may be permanently tattooed. Her skin has that flawless pale glow that reminds you of a Teutonic goddess. Her breasts are high and firm, a stellar example of the plastic surgeon’s art, her belly tight with visible abs. She clearly waxes, and not just her pubic hair. You don’t see a single strand of body hair below her neck. Her legs are visibly muscled and obviously hard. In fact the only part of her body that looks even remotely bad is her feet.

Dancers always have ugly feet, and Chrissy’s are no exception. Weird shaped toes from walking in heels, scarred and ugly from en pointe dancing. They look like they’ve been through a meat grinder. But they are proof that she has real dance training. Some of those scars only show up in ballet dancing. The kind that will leave her feet bloody and raw.

She seems to have gotten the shower adjusted to where she wants it, and indicates with her head that you should join her. You comply with only enough hesitation to glance at the cat for approval, being met with only disinterest, as Pyewacket seems to have found something more interesting in her own crotch. After the number of adrenaline highs and crashes that tonight has brought the steaming hot water feels fantastic. Right up until you try to put too much weight on your left knee. Clearly Broken Nose’s face was harder than it looked, and you crumble to the floor of the shower in excruciating pain. Chrissy lets out a little wail of distress and immediately begins ministering to you, forgoing her own clean up to take care of you.

Her hands are warm, her skin soft and supple. She’s also clearly had some training in professional massage, as she has your knee at least able to support weight in no time, yet she still fusses over you, insisting that you sit on the edge of the tub while she washes you.

And damn does it feel good to have someone so focused on your needs. You don’t resist, just enjoying the sensation of her hands on your body as the blood washes down the drain and you finally start to relax.

“Someone’s feeling better.” She smirks at the erection that such intimate contact with her has brought on.

“Only part of me. But keep it up and I’m sure that the rest will be up to snuff pretty quickly.”

“I’ll do that. But maybe I should start by kissing it better.” She sinks to the floor of the tub and begins with your ankles, kissing and licking her way up. The sensation of her mouth on you is so amazing that in no time you’ve forgotten the pain and your flag is flying at well above half mast.

She makes her way up your body, gentle touches and kisses trailing up your leg. You can feel the warmth of her skin against yours, feel the tension as if she’s just barely restraining herself. She reaches your knee and covers it with the soft flutter of her lips as she gazes up at you with something near reverence. Her eyes travel up and down your body, doing her own version of surveying you as you did her earlier, before returning her eyes to your face. She stares into your eyes for a moment, and then appears to come to a decision. Chrissy reaches up and pulls out the pin that holds her hair atop her head, letting those silver-white tresses cascade down over your legs and crotch. Her hair is long. Really long. Like three quarters of the way down her back long. She reaches behind her and grabs a shampoo bottle.

She squirts out a glob of the peach scented stuff into her hand and begins to rub it into the ends of her hair. Your confusion at this only lasts for a moment before she bends all the way down and begins to use her hair to wash your feet. Seeing this gesture of absolute submission, your heart leaps in your chest. She looks so sexy and at the same time utterly innocent. You reach down and cup her chin, leading her back up til her face is level with yours, the first active move you’ve made on her this evening, and draw her in to a soft affectionate kiss, whispering “Thank you.”

Pyewacket hops up onto the ledge of the tub, looks at you, and says “Blert.”