Joy stood for a long time in the shower, breathing in the steam and welcoming the heavy scent of Lawrence's urine into her lungs until it had long been washed away. Then she slowly began to bathe herself.
She started with her hair then worked her way downwards, using her hands to let her skin and her nervous system rest. When she got to between her legs, it took a long while to rinse away the thick, slick fluids between her folds, and as gentle as she was, slivers of pain sparked along her vaginal entrance. But soon she was past it, down her legs then rubbing the last of the soap suds from her toes, making sure to rinse well between all of them.
His towel hung on a nearby hook. It was made from a smooth cloth and not the fluffy kind she was used to, and was still damp from his body. She dried her hair, then wrapped the towel around herself.
Then she opened the door and stepped out.
She hadn't really paid attention to the place last night. But now that she did, she liked it.
It must have a bedroom, since no bed was in sight. The decor was minimal and calming. The apartment was uncluttered and clean, but not obsessively so.
Lawrence must be a man who picked up after himself and wiped up his crumbs, but he was fine with his tea left out next to the kettle.
She thought of the mess they'd made earlier, and looked down.
He'd wiped up his urine, but she could tell he'd been in a hurry. He'd missed a few stray droplets, and left behind a short smear which had partially evaporated while she'd been in the shower.
She smiled, closing her eyes briefly to remember the hot liquid streaming down her skin.
Her insides throbbed in renewed pleasure.
Her body felt right.
Joy didn't know how she'd gone so long without this feeling.
Or how it had changed her so much.
She enjoyed the feeling without acting on it; instead picking up her underwear, which had been laid over the arm of the sofa with the rest of her clothing. They looked... crunchy. She set them aside, then put her jeans on without them.
Her tee shirt was stretched out in the front, permanently misshapen from when he'd used it to drag her here from the hallway.
"Daddy,"
It came out as a whisper.
A flow of energy rushed up through her from her groin, from where he'd stretched her open and filled her with the pressure of his semen.
She whined softly, and touched the side of her neck, remembering how the shirt had dragged against her skin. Sure enough, her nerves lit up where the neckline had dug in and burned her.
"Daddy,"
Her breathing was fast. Shallow.
She calmed herself carefully, refusing to touch between her legs. Slowing her breaths and feeling her heartbeat settle.
