The Shower

"You're sopping wet!" Harry exclaimed when he opened the door.

"No kidding," James retorted dryly. "I was a halfway to my car when the sky opened up and dumped buckets on me. I figured that I could dry out here while I visited."

"Sure, no problem," Harry said. He watched as James slipped his shoes off. A plan began to take shape in his mind and he smiled inwardly. "It's 55 degrees outside. You've got to get out of those wet clothes before you catch cold. Give them to me and I'll toss them in the dryer. They'll be dry in 15 minutes."

"Geez, Harry!" James swore as he shook his head. "You'll do anything to get into my pants, won't you?"

"Yes," Harry agreed with a grin. "Almost anything. Now strip!"

The two men stared at one another, and in his peripheral vision Harry noticed a tremor shake James' body. The inward smile suddenly turned into a silent shout of glee.

"Look at you," Harry said worriedly once James had lowered his eyes, "You're shivering. Now march right into the bathroom, hand me out your clothes, and jump into the shower. A nice hot shower. Make that skin glow pink," he directed.

He placed his hand on James' shoulder, turned him in the right direction, and gave a gentle shove. "Your clothes will be dry before you are," he promised.

James started hesitantly toward the bathroom, then he seemed to make up his mind. His steps quickened, and his hand moved up and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Act One complete," Harry thought to himself as he followed James to the bathroom, "Time to set the scene for Act Two."

He stopped just outside the door and waited patiently for James' clothing. Once it had all been handed out, he began to close the door, but stopped just before it was closed. Opening it slightly, he called in, "How about a cup of coffee? Light and sweet, right?"

"That would be great," answered James from behind the relative safety of the door.

Harry shut the door gently. He held his breath. No sound came from the bathroom, and then Harry heard the hiss of the shower. He emptied his lungs, and began to walk away. "Silly boy," he whispered, "he didn't lock the door!" The shouts of glee that had been echoing through Harry's mind now transformed themselves into a slow, moving piece of music. Heavy with bass, it set his nerves on edge and quickened his heartbeat and breathing. Like countless men before him throughout the ages, his body began to prepare itself for flight, fight - or sex!

He tossed the clothes into the dryer, but not before he examined James' briefs. "Interesting," he thought to himself as he fingered the stretchy black fabric. "Nylon spandex, I think. So, my little cockteaser likes sexy men's underwear, too." The briefs joined the rest of the clothes and was set spinning. Harry moved into the kitchen, humming along with the music.

"Well would you look at that," he said to the stove, "There's already a pot of coffee made." He paused and pretended to think. "What do you think? Should I bring James his cup of coffee right now so he can drink it while he towels himself dry?" The stove didn't answer so Harry took its silence for agreement.

Harry poured. He sugared. He milked. He stirred.

Coffee mug in hand, he turned back towards the bathroom. Pausing with his hand on the doorknob, he announced aloud, "Ladies and gentlemen. For your viewing pleasure - the third and final act!" The audience of pillows silently applauded and the orchestra in Harry's mind began to play louder.

Carefully and soundlessly, Harry opened the door.

He stepped in and walked directly into the shower.

The sight that greeted him caused him to slosh coffee onto his hand and very nearly ruined his plan. And at that same moment, the chorus chose that same moment to join the band. The combination of the mellifluous voices and the vision that beheld him made him gasp out loud.

But James did not hear, for he was rinsing his hair, and the water beating down on his head and around his ears drowned out Harry's gasp of surprise - and pleasure.

For what Harry saw was beyond anything his mind had conjured up for him in the few minutes that his plan had been conceived, lay gestating, and was finally born there in his shower on the wet tile floor.

For James stood there facing him, his eyes closed as the suds cascaded off his head and slithered down his glistening body.

Unnoticed, Harry observed one clump of bubbly froth trace a path across James' shoulder and down the center of his chest. Harry watched as it slid downwards, just missing James' nipple, which was deep pink in color and ringed with sparse, dark hairs. Propelled by gravity, the bubbles continued downwards. Propelled by deepening desire, Harry watched, enthralled. Speeding up, the bubbles raced across James' nearly hairless stomach until finally coming to rest in his pubic hairs, where Harry saw them slowly dissolve away. Surprisingly, their absence caught Harry's attention and gave him pause, for he noticed how short the hair down there was. So short that they could not begin to hide the penis below. And a beautiful cock it was! Just dangling there in a dormant state, Harry could tell it would be one of average length but above average girth for the glans was wide and sharply flared. Above it, the shaft was marked by a darker ring of scar tissue halfway up, and Harry could not help but wonder what its final dimensions might be. But even as he began to wonder what James' cock would look and feel like once it was engorged with blood and fully erect, another thought crossed his mind.

"I wonder if he cuts his pubic hair all the time, or if he did it just for me," he mused.

And with this thought a new plan took shape. A plan only one step beyond his previous one of just seeing James nude. A plan which now took hold of him and seemed to consume him - body, mind, and soul. A plan from which he vowed to himself there was no turning back.. A plan so simple, he was surprised he didn't think of it first. A plan to have James.

To give him pleasure. To give him love. To make him come. In the shower. In his mouth. Today. Now.

Harry finally spoke, "I brought your coffee."

The sudden and surprising intrusion of his voice had the desired effect. James' eyes flew open and his head moved back. And as his hands moved from his head to his crotch in a belated attempt to cover himself, a terrible and yet wonderful thing happened. A wave of bubbles released their hold on his hair, cascaded down his forehead, and plunged directly into his "deer in the headlights" eyes.

Almost immediately, all of James' attempts at covering himself were put aside as his hands raced up to his face in a futile effort to scrub the froth from his eyes. And then another wonderful thing happened - James turned his back to Harry so that he could rinse the soap from his eyes.

Now Harry could drink in the sight of James' ass and his long, strong legs.

His eyes searched the body before him for something, anything that might turn him off, cool his ardor, and prevent him from continuing with his plan - but nothing did. If anything, it increased Harry's desire.

It was then Harry realized that this was the opening he had been hoping for. Setting down the almost forgotten coffee, Harry stepped into the shower with James.

Walking up to James, he got as close as he could without touching him.

Then bending over slightly, Harry whispered to James, "Can I wash your back for you."

His heart in his throat, Harry waited for James to answer. It was almost thirty seconds before James responded with a barely audible, "Yes. Please."

Even before James uttered that last word, Harry's hands were upon him. Softly and sensually, Harry began to wash James. He started at his shoulders - trying to massage away James' fears and relax him, and then his hands were gliding across the bone and muscle of his arms. Finishing there, he moved closer, pressing himself against James as his hand reached around to clean his chest and belly. James tried to move away but the shower wall in front of him left him with no place to escape.

"Hey," protested James weakly, "You said 'my back'."

"I lied," Harry replied wickedly. "It's my house. It's my shower. It's my soap. And we're playing by my rules now. Just relax and enjoy."

His hands wandered across James' chest, alternately tweaking his nipples and then traversing his smooth belly down to the top of his groin before coming to rest and then beginning the cycle all over again.

Finally tiring of this, Harry released his captive from his backwards hug and sank to his knees.

Now kneeling behind James, it took every ounce of self control Harry had to not incline his head a few inches and begin kissing and licking the globes of James' ass. Instead, he concentrated on cleansing his thighs, his calves, and his feet before his hands made their way back up his body and began caressing James' ass.

James tensed, but then relaxed once it became clear that Harry's almost friction's stroking was just that, and not an attempt to pry apart his cheeks and invade him.

"You have to turn around," Harry said suddenly without interrupting his massage some minutes later, "I have to clean your front."

This request took a few seconds to register on James' overloaded senses, and in a moment of weakness, he complied. And then another wonderful thing happened, for when he turned, James' hard cock slapped Harry in the side of his head.

Soaping his hands liberally, Harry began to tenderly clean the balls swinging from side to side before him. With his other hand, he clasped James' cock in his soapy hands and slowly stroked its turgid length from root to tip and then back again.

A groan escaped James lips.

Harry paused, and as the water rinsed away the suds, Harry noticed that James' scrotum matched his pubic hair - it was nearly hairless. Smiling with satisfaction for a job well done Harry looked up at James. Their eyes locked. While still holding onto James' cock and balls, Harry asked him a question.

"Do you know how a mother cat cleans her kittens?"

Again, the answer was delayed by several seconds, and then James nodded and said, "Yes, I do. Why?"

"Because that's how I'm going to finish cleaning your cock," Harry responded.

Without waiting for a reply, he bent over and began licking James' cock as if it was a long lollipop.

"No!" James moaned.

Without stopping, Harry began to polish the knob of the cock before him. Twitching and throbbing, it responded by growing hotter and harder.

Finally, Harry paused long enough to ask, "Do you want me to stop now?" before resuming his licking.

Right about the time that James uttered another, fateful, "No," in response to that rhetorical question, Harry took the head of James' cock into his mouth and began sucking in concert with his licking.

It was a fateful "No" because it was then that James realized that he was getting the best blowjob of his life. Fateful because he recognized that he had not been this turned on in a long time. Fateful because he realized that there was no turning back. Fateful because he wanted it. Because he wanted it to never end. Because he wanted it to end. He wanted it to end with him splashing his hot cum deep into Harry's willing and oh, so talented mouth.

"Oh, no," he moaned as his hands reached down to grab hold of Harry's head. Not to guide Harry in any way for Harry needed no assistance, but as a support for James' suddenly weak legs.

"Oh, yes," he moaned next as Harry took him deeply into his mouth. So deep that Harry's nose was tickled by James' pubic hairs. So deep that Harry nearly choked when the bulbous head invaded his throat.

He reached around James' body so that he could hold him, and he alternated gliding his hands up and down James' thighs and across his butt with grabbing his cheeks and pulling him closer. James responded by holding on tighter and he began to murmur things like, "Oh, that feels so good!" and "Please, stop." Harry paid little attention as his entire being was concentrated on the task at hand.

So with the water splashing down around them, their electronic relationship was finally consummated. But if anyone had chosen this moment to peek in on our two showermates, they would have gotten the wrong impression. For the older, more mature gentleman on his knees before the younger one was not the one submitting. No, quite the opposite. That gentleman was the one in charge. With James' baton firmly seated between his lips, Harry was conducting these orchestral movements. In and out, up and down, around and around, Harry pleasured James until James could take no more. His breath coming in ragged gasps, his body stiffened, his scrotum tightened and his cock grew harder and began to twitch.

And as Harry's inner orchestra reached their crescendo, and the cymbals crashed for the final time, James came. Without slowing down or decreasing the voracious power of his sucking, Harry allowed the head to slide from his throat so that James' essence could be deposited on his tongue. For weeks, he had waited for this. And now it was his. His to savor. His to enjoy.

For this moment was his greatest pleasure. To give such pleasure one had to have a big heart. And at that moment, Harry's heart was ready to burst from his chest.

And then, suddenly, it was over. Silence descended on the lovers. The last drop of nectar had been massaged from James' cock, and he lay spent, leaning against the wall.

When he had composed himself sufficiently, he reached down and drew Harry up.

"Thank you", he said, and then he kissed Harry. Not a shy kiss, or even a lustful or passionate kiss, this was a kiss for the ages, a kiss that spoke volumes. A kiss of thanks, and peace, and even love.

And then James kicked Harry out of his own shower.

"Now scram," James ordered. "I need to finish this shower and dry off. Get out."

So Harry scrammed. Dripping wet, he toweled himself dry in his bedroom. He went to the dryer to retrieve James' dry clothing, and returning to his bedroom, he folded the articles neatly and placed them on the bed.

Sitting next to them, he wondered what would happen next. He recalled James' words about how he felt after these types of encounters, how guilt overtakes him. So he sat there wondering and worrying.

Then the bathroom door opened and James walked out. All dry and glowing, albeit a little waterlogged and wrinkled in spots, he walked over and stood in from of Harry. Harry worried that it was a little bit awkward, given what had just happened and that they were both nude.

And then, as the curtain descended on that last act, the last wonderful thing happened.

James spoke a single word.

A word seemingly full of hope and yet full of questions. A word Harry never dreamed he would hear. A word of promise. One word.

That word:

"Again?"

F I N I S

Well, I hoped you liked that. You made me work hard on this, and now it's your turn. I'd like you to write a story. But I'll take more sex in mine, thank you. (I know, it's not fair, but hey, I don't have that good of an imagination! And besides, I went first so you have to top me.)

And you might be surprised at what I'll accept. In my fantasies, I'll try almost anything, so that leaves worlds of possibilities. So consider this a vehicle for you to open up and even go a little bit crazy, too. Since I don't know what you like, or what you've done in the past, or what you want to do in the future (besides sucking me dry!) I am clueless as to what deep dark fantasies you harbor within you.

So here's the scene:

Your place

Shoes (red or black, your choice)

Garter belt (red or black) or corset (black, satin, and laces up the back)

Black seamed stockings (I could wear beige nearly opaque pantyhose under them if leg hair would bother you)

Women's clothing (Again, I already told you what I own so unless you would prefer something different, you can just choose from what I have)

Bra? Foam falsies? A blonde wig?

But no makeup or nail polish. While I do put these on (badly) when I have enough time, my intent is not always to look like a woman. I will never be anything more than a man in women's clothing. Which is fine for me. Remember, one of the reasons I dress in women's clothing is to feel more like a women, not just look a little bit more like one. That would include having more of a submissive nature, needing recognition about how one looks, needing to feel wanted, etc...

So have fun with this. I am already looking forward to reading it. And to masturbating to it.