I don't know what it was that made me start masturbating in Frankie's shower; it certainly wasn't the fact that I was dog-tired after a long flight. Maybe it was the sultry steam floating lightly about the bathroom or the hot drops of water cascading over my back, but I found myself pushing two fingers deeply between my legs and gently pressing at aroused flesh. The sensation was wonderful after being cramped up for so many hours and the feeling of being somewhere familiar made it all the more enjoyable. I closed my eyes and rested my hand against the wall as I played a little harder. As my climax began to rise I twisted and pushed against my hand, slamming my fist involuntarily against the tiled wall.
"You OK darlin'?" Came a deep male voice from beyond the door. I gasped in sudden surprise and smiled; I hadn't meant to make such a noise, but my sexual urges had gotten the better of me.
"Yeah...hunnh...Frankie, I'm...ooo...er...I'm fine." I hollered but my voice wavered and cracked, giving the game away.
"You sure? I thought you'd slipped and banged ya head or something." He replied. I heard the bathroom door squeaked open and the heavy foot falls of Frankie Christiansen step inside. "ya sure?"....
Francis .M. Christiansen, not the name one would associate with a 6 foot tall, 220lbs construction manager, more likely the name of a lawyer or marketing executive. But 'Frankie' was not just any construction guy. He'd worked his way up from the bottom, starting as an apprentice, to become one of the best project managers the construction business had ever seen. He could raise an erection – if you excuse my term of phrase – on time and under budget anywhere in the world.
I first set eyes on his solid muscular physique in Taiwan; on the 43rd floor of a new office block I had designed. The humid breeze was blowing through the open sides of the empty shell of the building and he was carrying a girder - which was usually a two man job – precariously across a 4 foot gap, a sheer drop to the ground, because the crane was out of action. That bare, wind-browned chest was enough to bring the colour to my cheeks and the butterflies to my stomach. Suffice to say we hit it off straight away, and he didn't seem to mind the fact that the architect whose building he was putting up just happened to be a woman.
We spent some wonderful times together; a casual arrangement really, but one that suited us both. So when I got the call to return to England the break-up didn't really seem all that hard. We parted on good terms but I did miss his early morning lovemaking and the deep resonating sound of his laughter. I guess we both just got on with our lives and I never really expected to see each other again. But a chance call from a firm in the U.S. put me on a plane back to Detroit and a man I hadn't seen in three years.
He was waiting at the airport when I arrived. I spotted him straight away through the crowd. He was still the same; His short brown hair was ruffled and when he caught sight of me coming into the concourse his soft blue eyes lit up with that all too familiar impish shine. He had on his usual; faded black denims that showed those solid thighs and tight, tight butt cheeks to perfection, grey t-shirt and faded plaid over-shirt - open at the front - and black biker boots with large buckles that jingled when he walked.
It was so wonderful to see him again after all that time, I never really expected to feel so thrilled by his presence, but it was as if we'd never been apart. He swung me round in a bear-hug of an embrace and we fell back into the old flirting chatter just as it had been three years before. We didn't stop until we reached his front door.
His apartment was just as I remembered it, a real 'man's' apartment; lived in, with last night's beer can still on the coffee table and piles of building blue-prints scattered over the dinning table, that had become a makeshift office. I took my time looking around the place as I relived old memories of our life together while he stowed my bags and made me some space in his closet. It was to be a two week stay; an initial project briefing from my new clients. He'd insisted immediately that I stay at his place when I'd made that first tentative phone call to invite him onto the team the week before. I felt happy to be back in his apartment, but so tired that all I wanted to do was sleep. So he called for some take-out and ordered me to the bathroom to freshen up. He always did know the right things to say.
Now, here I stood, head under the hot water, mind whirling with erotic thoughts, one hand pressed against the wall and my fingers stroking my clit.
"I'm fine honestly Frankie." I giggled, releasing my fingers, but he'd heard that shake in my voice oh-so many times before and I knew what he was thinking.
There was a pause. "Huh huh?" I didn't need to see his face to know the playful smirk that crossed his features at that moment. "Well maybe ya need ya back rubbing or something." He offered.
"Maybe I do." I flirted huskily, the feeling of my wayward fingers playing sexy games with my mind. Another long pause. I grinned broadly to myself as I heard the sound of a zipper being pushed down and the thud-thud of heavy boots hitting the floor. The rustling sound of fabric as items of clothes where dropped in a pile and then the soft swish of the shower curtain as it was drawn back.
I stood with my back to him, facing the jet of water from the shower hose, squeezing globules of soapy suds down my back from the wash cloth. I listened to the sound of him climb into the far end of the tub and the lingering silence made me finally look over my shoulder. "Any excuse to get into my shower eh Frankie?" I murmured. I tried to look down, suddenly too nervous to meet his stare and his nakedness.
"Now I remember what I've been missin' every morning for the last three years." He whispered, eyeing my wet back.
I gave him my best coy smile and turned back to my washcloth, my heart beating a mile-a-minute. In my half glance I'd caught a glimpse of his body and he still looked incredible; thick brick-wall of a chest, solid abs and curved pectorals mounted atop hard pillar-like thighs all nutmeg brown and smooth.
He stood there for what seemed like ages, just taking in the view and I could feel my initial apprehension fading. I continued to wash, slowly and seductively. I hadn't expected us to renew our sexual acquaintance so quickly after my arrival, but his eagerness to get into my shower and my nonchalance at his presence made me realise just how much we still found each other attractive. My tiredness had all but vanished, to be replaced by a desire to complete with his body what I had begun with my fingers.
