Okay. I'm gonna warn you upfront. If you're looking for a plot or a character arc, look elsewhere. This is a quickie with no greater ambition than expressing the omnipresent ache of my current situation. If that's what you're looking for, I hope this is to your liking.
Many thanks to Lara_Blackadaar for her thoughtful and thorough editing. With love and admiration for raconteuse
*****
"Turn around."
There was a crispness in your voice that puzzled me.
I knew you weren't angry. You had no reason to be. After all, we'd had a lovely shower together and you'd only just finished towelling off my front.
I turned away, as you asked, to face the shower wall, arms extended, bracing my palms against the tiles. You dried my neck and shoulders, then brought the fabric down my back.
As you reached my buttocks, you knelt, rubbing the terry cloth vigorously over them. Then the backs of my thighs, followed by calves and at last, my feet.
Seemingly out of the blue, you raked your fingernails over the sensitive flesh of my bottom. I writhed in response, only to feel a stinging smack on my ass. "Hold still." That same brisk tone.
"What the hell...?"
Another sharp strike with your open hand, accompanied by this simple utterance: "Don't talk."
You dragged your fingers softly over my ass again, then the insides and backs of my thighs. You couldn't possibly think I can...
*Thwack*
"Don't.
"Move."
Oh-kay. Obviously, I'd better dig deep and find some self-restraint I didn't know I had.
While the fingernails of your left hand continued to play over my hips and thighs, your right hand reached between my legs and wrapped around my hardening shaft.
"Oh God." It was an involuntary gasp that earned me another resounding slap and left my ass cheek tingling. You halted your attentions and I heard you moving about behind me. I was careful not to peek and earn another smack.
"Open your mouth." I heard the same blunt undercurrent in your voice, right beside my ear. I did as you instructed and you inserted a damp washcloth. "Close it." It took a second or two before I realised that you'd wiped the cloth between your legs. Repeatedly.
The material was saturated with your rich, complex taste. You must've been streaming profusely. The thought had me almost dizzy with lust. You murmured in my ear, "That ought to keep you quiet."
You were back on your knees behind me. I was still standing, feet planted shoulder-width apart, arms stretched in front of me, palms flat against the shower tiles.
Your fingernails returned to trace patterns over the receptive flesh of my rear. Resuming the grip you had on my dripping erection, your fingers began to subtly shift.
Slowly, tantalisingly, your fist glided over my length. Oh God.
Reached the rim. Fuck.
Slid over the crown. What were you doing to me?
Spreading the cream all around. How can I keep still?
Slathering sticky essence down my shaft. Then back up again. All the while, fingernails of your other hand grazed and teased my ass and upper legs.
The increase in the tempo of your stroking hand was barely discernible.
And completely irresistible. Jerking me off with quickening, slippery movements.
My hips began to mimic the rhythm of their own accord. Suddenly, your open palm sliced into my bottom with startling energy. The dissonance it created was breathtaking. That sudden burst of pain, preceded and followed by the blissful motion of your hand on my cock.
Up and down. Fist slowly pumping. Nerve endings singing with every pass. Gorgeous. But I dared not move or make a sound.
"I don't need rope or scarves to bind you. Just my words. Isn't that right, sweet?"
Without thinking, I grunted my assent into the face-washer in my mouth. Immediately followed by an explosion of searing heat on my bottom. "Absolute quiet, love. That was a rhetorical question."
Fuck! That one brought tears to my eyes. But, as the throbbing subsided, I became aware again of the heavenly throbbing in my sex. Your hands continued their erotic circuits: one wrapped around my erection, the other skating over my rear. The taste of you permeating the washcloth, laving my tongue.
My slipperiness increased with the pace of your fingers moving on my cock.
So fucking close... sweet Jesus. Trying so hard not to moan or gasp. Keep my hips still. But the pleasure is unbelievable. What's gonna happen when I cum? I almost tightened my glutes at the thought, but I caught myself in time.
I was so focused on keeping my ass from moving, that I failed to realise that my feet were subtly twisting, lifting from their heels. Sensations this intense just can't be contained. My hips may be stilled and my throat quieted, but what you were doing to me practically had me up on the balls of my feet. Not surprising that though I was too distracted to notice, you weren't. My senses were completely centred on the sticky rise and fall of your fist on my hardened rod. So, I was completely unprepared for the burst of pain across my ass. I bit down and grunted reflexively into the face-washer. Another thunderbolt hit me and my body shook with the force of it.
You smoothed your palm over my burning cheek. I was reminded wryly of your strength and fitness.
"Turn around."
I'm greeted by the sight of you kneeling in front of me, looking up, your head about level with my jutting, dripping erection.
Without taking your eyes from mine, you bared your teeth and grazed them lightly over the head of my cock. The movement, so delicate, so sensuous, igniting the already hyper-reactive nerve endings. Skimming the surface, watching my face to see the pleasure you were bestowing reflected in my expression. My mouth clenched, brows contracting, eyes shining, overflowing with the storm you were generating inside me.
"You're ready to explode, aren't you, darling?"
My teeth clamped firmly on the face-washer, I maintained my silence. Not even nodding. I'd learned my lesson.
Your gaze had me pinned to the shower wall. Your fingers continued slathering fluids over my hardness. "It's okay, baby. You can talk. D'ya wanna come now?"
I opened my mouth and let the washcloth spill to the shower floor. "Yes." My voice was husky with want.
"Soon." You brought the middle finger of your left hand to daub at a fresh globule of lubrication, spreading it over my glans. Once the digit was thickly glazed with my essence, it slid behind my balls, skating over my perineum. Whispering back and forth over the tender flesh. Slipping between my cheeks.
Your mouth returned to my cock, tongue peeking from between your luscious lips, lapping at the crown. Laving the length underneath. All the while keeping your eyes on me. Left middle finger stealing closer and closer to my asshole. Teasing. Making me wait. Stewing in anticipation.
Your lips slid over me. Engulfing me. Simultaneously, your finger pressed on the tight ring of my pucker, ignoring the resistance and sliding inside me. All the way, in one smooth motion.
