It's only been five days since I've seen you, but it feels like a lifetime. I've been wandering streets alone for too long, and now all I want is to curl up next to you in bed and feel your warm skin against mine. I close my eyes and take a deep breath as the train ambles by yet another station, willing myself closer to home.
When the train finally pulls into the station, I can see you standing on the platform, still dirty from work, but to my eyes you've never looked so good. It's all I can do not to leap off the train straight into your arms, but I restrain myself and wait my turn to alight behind the other passengers. I'm almost upon you before you see me, and your face spreads into that gorgeous grin you've got. You step forward, hugging me tightly, and kiss me gently. A kiss filled with a longing that makes my toes curl.
In the car on the way home, you hold my hand tightly, looking into my eyes every so often, reminding me how much I missed you. For now, I simply enjoy the touch of your hand. You help me lift my bag up the stairs and settle it in my living room. I flop down on the couch with an exhausted sigh. You're looking at me with a hunger, and I can tell you want to rip my clothes off right there. But you look down at yourself, and with a consideration that's typical of you, tell me that you're going to have a shower and you'll be back. I feel as hot, dirty and dusty as you look, the mention of a shower makes me want one too, and I say so. With a cheeky grin, you suggest that if I'm too tired, you could wash me as well, which makes my skin tingle in anticipation – so – into the shower we go.
My clothes are off before we even make it too the bathroom, and yours come off as I'm running the hot water. The sight of your dirty clothes on my bathroom floor stirs something in me, the contentment of simply having you there, and I stare at the image in the mirror of our naked selves pressed together until steam clouds it over. You gently lead me into the stream of hot water, and I stand with my back against your chest, letting the streams of heat run over us. It feels so good to be in your arms again. After a time we break apart and take turns washing each other's hair, massaging scalps and easing tensed neck muscles. When the last of the suds have washed away, you lean down and kiss me, deep and slow, making my belly twinge. I press against you harder, eager for more.
You break away from me, dragging a thumb over my lips and teasingly tell me not to go so fast, you haven't been washed yet. Impatiently, I grab my cleansing gel and washcloth and wash you very thoroughly. The sweet smell of the gel fills the air around us and you inhale deeply as I methodically work down your body. I admire the way the water runs down your smooth chest as I drag the cloth over it, then your belly. I scrub your arms and back, watching the skin turn pink under my care. I pay particular attention to your buttocks, using firm strokes and kneading motions as I work down towards your thighs. As I drag the cloth up the front of your legs, I can see your cock, hard as it has ever been, hovering inches from my lips, and long to taste it. You notice me looking, and tell me that I can't touch it until I'm clean.
Gently taking the washcloth from me, you turn me to face the wall, and lather up my back first. Once you're satisfied that's clean, you work up my legs to my buttocks, your fingers brushing the insides of my thighs and making my knees turn to butter. You pull me back against your chest, and start to lather up my front. Your hands knead my stomach first, then up to my breasts. You work in slow, concentric circles, and by the time you reach my nipples, they've been aching for you to touch them so long that electric shocks run through my body. Your hands follow the tremors down to my stomach again, where you start kneading downwards. As you massage my inner thighs, I can feel your mouth on my neck, and I turn to kiss you.