Early the next morning, after several hours of sleep, Aimee awoke. Sometime during the night, the satin duvet had been pushed to the floor, and they had slipped under the smooth linen sheets which lay crumpled around her. Don was not in bed, and she could hear water running in the bathroom and she realized he was showering.
She left the bed, entered the steamy bathroom, and sat on the toilet to pee. She frowned as she saw her panties were crusted with the dried juices of her multiple arousals the night before. She kicked them from her feet, and they landed in the corner.
Through the steam she could see the image of his body behind the marbled glass door. Not wanting him to be alerted yet to her presence, she did not flush the toilet as she stepped across the room and placed her hand on the shower door, sliding slowly to the side.
He stood, shampooing his hair with his back toward her, unaware of her presence. She watched as the rivulets of water carried the suds of the shampoo down the back of his neck to his broad shoulders and back. Her eyes were captivated as the stream sluiced across his firm buttocks, some of it being channeled into the dark cleft between them.
As she eagerly drank in the sight, he turned toward her, his eyes squeezed shut against the foaming shampoo and he bent his head under the stream of water to rinse his hair. His muscled arms were lifted with his fingers combing through his hair. His upper body was carpeted with a generous amount of hair and his chest was solid and trim.
Her eyes dropped lower to his belly which had a slight but not terribly obvious paunch. Lower still, she felt a not yet familiar twinges in her lower belly as she saw the dark thatch of hair surrounding his penis as it dangled limply between his legs with his scrotum; soft, supple and relaxed, hanging behind it as it held the weight of his testicles. She was tempted to abandon her voyeurism and join him instead and she knew he would open his eyes soon and discover her. She deferred, however, and restored his privacy as she quietly slid the door closed and returned to the bedroom.
As the sound of the shower stopped, she realized that he would be entering the bedroom soon and see her naked, in the middle of the room. She felt the heat rising up her neck and to her face. She quickly pulled the sheet from the bed but then spotted her skirt on the floor. Her blouse was nowhere in sight and so she opted for the sheet, pulling it around her. She was aware of the remnants of her arousal the previous night emanating from that spot between her legs. She panicked as she remembered she had not brought a change of clothing with her. She needed a shower.
He stepped through the door and entered the bedroom with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and found her standing in the middle of the room wrapped in a sheet that still had a corner tucked under the mattress. He looked at her and smiled. She blushed a deep crimson.
Stifling a laugh he said, "I really don't think you can go out and walk through the lobby dressed like that, not to speak of walking down the street!"
She was mortified and shyly pulled the sheet more tightly around her. "I think I would like a shower, and I don't have anything to wear."
"Why do women always think that they don't have anything to wear! Go get your shower, hon. I have a solution for your need for clothes, and I'll show you after you are cleaned up."
