Diana greeted Justin at the bathroom door.
She was dressed in a short tank top that just barely covered her full breasts, and a pair of panties. She already looked ravishing.
Wordlessly, Diana stepped back and waited until Justin removed his clothes, then, as per their previous arrangement (Diana was not allowed to say anything)--she held out her hands to him, wrist against wrist. He reached into a bag he'd brought with him and removed a small length of soft cord. He wrapped it around her wrists. Diana gazed at him, looking helpless, yet she trusted him implicitly. He led her to the shower and she followed obediently.
He turned on the shower, adjusted the water to a bearably hot temperature and motioned for Diana to climb in. He followed. He grasped and raised her tied hands and slipped them over the showerhead so that she seemed to be dangling. The water cascaded over Diana--her hair became dark and stringy, her nipples stuck out from behind the soaked tank top and the lips of her pussy were outlined against the soaked fabric of her panties.
Justin kissed Diana tenderly, and she returned the kiss with ardor. He thrust his hand down her panties, cupped her crotch and felt the wetness running through his fingers. He poked a finger through the folds of flesh and found her clitoris. He rubbed it until Diana begin to twist and turn, wanting to be free from the bonds that held her to the showerhead, yet unable to do so.
Justin knelt before Diana, grasped her panties and ripped them from her hips. He tossed them to the floor. He buried his face in the wetness of her cunt, pushing through her labia with his tongue. Diana lifted her foot to the sidebar of the shower stall, desiring more tonguing, but instead, Justin grabbed the sweet-scented soap and begin to lather her cunt and her bum, running his soapy hand back and forth from front to rear. Diana squirmed, began to moan for him to let her go, but he told her to be quiet, giving her ass a strong but playful slap. Wide-eyed, Diana stared at him , but said nothing.
Now he began to spread the lather up her stomach, up beneath her tank top and spread the slippery soap over and around her full breasts, encircling her nipples again and again.
Once more Diana begged him to release her, but he did not. Instead, he slapped her ass again, grabbed her shirt and pulled her to him, crushing his lips against hers, his tongue thrusting into her mouth and finding her own tongue.
Now he grabbed her shirt with two hands, tore it apart so that it hung down on either side of her breasts. He watched as the rushing water rinsed the soap from her body and trickled down her legs.
Diana gazed at him as he reached up to remove her hands from the showerhead. She thought he was finally going to release her.
But he did not.
He turned Diana around, bent her over and tied her wrists to her ankles.