Shower play

I drift awake to find myself lying on my back with Bailey on top of me, arms wrapped around me, kissing my chest and rubbing her twat along my dick. I reach up and stroke her hair, and she purrs. “Hey, sleepyhead,” she murmurs.

“Hey, baby girl,” I murmur back. She slides up my body and gives me a long, lingering kiss. “How long was I out?”

“A couple hours,” Bailey answers softly. “Good nap. It will help you keep up with me tonight,” she adds with a smirk.

I tickle her neck, making her yelp and flinch away, then pull her face to mine and give her another long, slow kiss. She makes soft noises of contentment in her throat. “How are you feeling?” I ask.

Bailey stretches like a cat. “Amazing,” she says langorously. “I haven’t been fucked that well in—well, ever. To have that after a rough day at work, and then to be able to fall asleep in your arms, was more wonderful than I know how to say.”

“So that was what you wanted, then?” I ask, a little hesitantly. “Rowan never wanted to be called a slut, much less whore, fuckdoll, sex ****, so I’m not used to that language . . . and then it came so easily, I was afraid I might have gotten carried away. I don’t really have a good feel for it—I don’t want you to feel demeaned, much less abused. I know you weren’t looking for actual ****—I know too well what that looks like—but I don’t have a clear sense of what you do want. It was good, then?”

“Oh, Ben, you beautiful man,” Bailey says tenderly, a gentle smile on her face. “Yes, you were wonderful. You were reading me perfectly.” She kisses me softly, her tongue feathering over my lips. “I need a shower. Join me?”

“I’m not about to turn down an invitation like that,” I say with a grin.

*******

Jack and Mai have a nice big shower. It’s not as nice as mine, but it’s a big glassed-in stall with two showerheads and a deep ledge, right around the height of my dick, running around all three walls. We turn the water on at both ends and stand in the middle making out. Our kiss starts out soft and gentle but quickly turns hungry and demanding, with plenty of tongueplay. Bailey has one hand on my head, running her fingers through my hair, and the other kneading my ass, while I stroke her smooth, toned back with both hands.

After a while, I tell Bailey to turn around so I can play with her tits. I cup them from behind, letting their soft weight rest in my palms and playing my fingers over her firm curves. I lightly caress her silken skin with my fingertips, then grip her more tightly and knead her supple titflesh. I tease her stiff, quivering pegs with the tips of my middle fingers, then bracket them and pinch them as I massage her sweet peaks. She moans and braces herself against the wall with both hands, turning her head to kiss me over her shoulder. “Oh, Sir,” she says breathily, “my girls love your hands . . . you touch me so right . . . I’m so wet, so horny, I need you so much . . .” She grinds her ass against me, catching just the base of my shaft in her tight crack. “I’m just your little slut, Sir—you touch me, and I need more—all I can think about is your hands . . . take my titties, Sir—take them—”

I shift my hands to get a firm three-fingered grip on Bailey’s nipples, then pull them out and give them each a good twist; she shrieks as her climax slams through her like a rockslide. She writhes and shudders in the steam for a surprisingly long time. When her body quiets, I drop one hand to her pretty little pussy, pierce her sex with two fingers, and find her clit with my thumb. One movement, and she shrieks again and starts bouncing wildly. Her toned young cunt squeezes my fingers in a velvet vise and fills my palm with girl-honey.

When I can move my fingers again, I pull them out, turn Bailey around, and lift her onto the ledge. “Sir,” she gasps, “please—please let me catch my breath.”

“No, little fucktoy,” I tell her, dropping to my knees. “I’m not done playing with you.” I press my lips into Bailey’s slick quim, invade her dripping little hole with a rolled-up tongue, and suck hard, guzzling her girl-cum. She moans incoherently until I thumb her clit—then she screams at the top of her lungs and bucks her hips into my face. My face keeps her on the ledge, but it’s a near thing. Her overflowing honeypot floods my mouth with nectar, and I drink greedily.

When the torrent dies away, I shift around to fasten my mouth around Bailey’s eager pearl. I push two fingers back into her tight little box to rub her G-spot and suck hard. “So good, Sir—so good—” she pants. “Too much—you’ll make me—pass out with pleasure—” I suck hard, like I’m trying to suck a watermelon through a straw, and start humming the bass riff to “Midnight Hour.” She screams again in a climax so powerful, I actually have to stop moving my fingers, her tunnel is gripping them so tightly. Her body goes completely rigid, then relaxes all at once; her head lolls to the side. When I stand up, being careful to hold her in position, I realize that she did indeed pass out, though she’s already stirring.