Wet

Based on an idea by Bigviewer69.

Cloe disappeared from the hotel jetty faster than Alexander could watch her. He followed her leisurely. She wasn't going to make him run after her. No, definitely not.

When he got to the room, he immediately heard the sound of the shower running. The table for two in an alcove of the hotel restaurant was reserved for 75 minutes.

“Are you going to be long?” he called into the room.

“No, come on in. I'm almost done.”

He stepped into the bathroom. Cloe was standing behind the glass wall, rinsing the last of the soap off her skin. Her nipples—hard, large, proud—betrayed that the water wasn't the only thing that had just touched her.

“Don't stare, help me. Towel!”

A demanding gesture. He reached for the bath towel and handed it to her. He didn't bat an eyelid or make a comment. He saw right through her little game. She wanted to make him compliant. She could have her fun. But he wasn't going to give in.

His indifference did not fail to have the desired effect. “Oh, come on,” thought Cloe, “I'm dripping like a damn perfume commercial, massaging my pearl for you, and you're giving me the poker face?” She stepped out of the shower.

“You can come in now.” Her voice was snappy, with an undertone of disappointment.

He took off his swimming trunks without a word and hung them up neatly—the first time she had seen him completely naked. Wow, what a man! Only half erect and already very impressive. Cloe couldn't take her eyes off him. She had just had him in her hand a moment ago. But now, not under water, with nothing to hide him, she had to swallow.

While he showered, she stood naked in front of the mirror and began to apply her makeup. As if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“Do you know,” she began casually, “that I can shower in high heels?”

He almost choked on the water. Damn, stay focused. But the more she talked—little, indecent hints—the more he lost his composure.

Although he didn't want to, he glanced out of the corner of his eye at her hot body as if it were forbidden. She was offering herself to him openly. No shyness. No secrets. And yet... the situation did not leave him unaffected. His male member grew larger and larger until it stood rock hard and erect.

Finally, he stepped out of the shower, dripping wet, and went straight to her. She saw him approaching in the mirror, turned around, sat down on the stool, and spread her legs. He saw her soft labia, dark pink, swollen, slightly parted. He knew she was ready.

She grinned. “I can't let you go to dinner like that, you're way too tense.”

She took his hand and placed it on her breast. Then she knelt down, her tongue sliding out—a single, hot touch—Alexander audibly exhaled.

Her tongue circled his swollen glans several times until she opened her lips wide and took him in. Deep. She licked and smacked her lips. Then, unexpectedly, unbidden, he thrust his hips forward and came in her throat.

“Sorry...” he muttered, his face bright red. “That, um, has never happened to me before...”

Cloe interrupted him, smiling cheekily. “You taste good.”

Then she turned back to the mirror and reapplied her lipstick as if nothing had happened.

Puff, harder than a slap in the face. He went to his room without saying a word.