You ask Mr. Wood if you can take a shower

Your temptation to bring Mr. Wood's shrinking cock back to life is pushed from your mind by a new and even naughtier idea.

"All this cum is so sticky," you squeeze your tits with your upper arms so Mr. Wood can see how they get momentarily stuck together by his semen. "I don't think a towel is going to do it."

"Well...ahhhh...," he trails off, staring down at you.

"I don't think a towel is going to do it, Mr. Wood," you dip a finger into the puddle of cum on your tits and bring it to your lips. "I think I'm going to need a shower. Can I use yours?"

You lick the sperm from your finger.

"S-sure," Mr. Wood stammers.

You release Mr. Wood's cock and he stuffs it back into his pants. You stand up, careful not to drop any of his sperm on the carpet as you follow him down the hall to a small bathroom.

The white ceramic tiles are cold against your bare feet. The shower is attached to a heavy clawfoot bathtub that sits against a single window covered by a blue curtain. Sunlight filters red through the curtain, giving the dark bathroom a womb-like feel.

"There's shampoo and soap and washcloths in the tub," Mr. Wood says. "I'll go get you a towel."

He walks out the door and you strip quickly, peeling off your tanktop, pyjama pants, bra, and thong and leaving them in a heap next to the shaggy green bathmat. You bring the shower to a warm temperature and then step up into the tub. You wash the cum off first, letting the water spray your big pert breasts and pour over your hard pink nipples. You turn and let the suds and water wash over and between your firm ass cheeks.

You leave a crack in the shower curtain so you can see when Mr. Wood return with the towel. You're washing the shampoo out of your lopsided blond bob when you hear the door open. Mr. Wood, still looking a bit flustered, tries to creep into the room and leave the towel on the sink without being noticed.

"Oh, Mr. Wood," you call from the shower.

"Y-yes?" He replies.

"Do you think you could help me?"

"Ummm," he hesitates.

"Plllllease," you beg.

"Well, what is it you need help with?"

You titter at the question. It's cute how shy the older man is even after he pumped a load down your cleavage.

"It's just this one spot...I need some help washing it," you call. "Please!"

"A-alright," you hear his footsteps approaching. "I'll just reach in, I won't look."

You giggle and consider your next move.