The water from the shower head falls steadily on the top of my head, then my face as I lift it into the stream. Monday morning, ack! I took the day off knowing that I might need time to recover from yesterday's cookout, though it looks like the time will be spent having 'the talk' with Tara. I wonder if I can take tomorrow off too! Chances are I'll still be needing recovery time if I have to go through that. Why? Because yesterday I found out my girlfriend of less than three weeks is an alien. Not an illegal who slipped into country, but a bona fide extraterrestrial. To tell the truth, that's the least of my worries. You see, while I'm okay with her being an alien, Tara says that we need to 'talk' in a manner that makes it clear I'm not going to like what she has to say. So naturally, here I am in the shower. Hiding out.
Tara woke up a few minutes before I decided to get in the shower. Oddly enough, her waking up provided the urge to run to the bathroom as it felt like I was about to heave up the contents of my stomach. Nervousness is making me sick to my stomach. So my plan is to stay in the shower for as long as possible. At my place I'd have a good forty-five minutes before running out of hot water. Here, at Tara's place, with the almost limitless hot water, I figure I can last ninety minutes at least. It won't get me out of talking, but it will let me postpone it until my stomach settles. Click! Thump! I hear the bathroom door open, then swiftly close again.
"Hey," Tara says. "You doing okay?"
"Yeah, just taking a shower. What about you?"
The door to the shower opens even quicker than the door to the bathroom and Tara slides inside the tiny stall with me. I step forward to make room for her, because being in the shower being splashed by incidental spray instead of a nice steady stream sucks. Tara grabs me around my midsection, pulling me to her so her front is pasted to my back. We stay that way for a while, not speaking, her unnaturally warm body pressed to mine, as the hot water pours down on our bodies. Eventually my stomach settles.
"Feeling better now?" Tara asks.
"I am. Thanks."
"This is why we need to talk, honey. I'm not trying to make you nervous or make you feel bad. Some of what I have to tell you may seem kind of scary, but most of what I want to say is just information. Not good or bad, only facts. Some of what I have to say you may even like."
I exhale a long, drawn out sigh. "You say that now, but I can hear in your voice that you're going to say something that changes things for us. And I don't want anything to change."
"Don't be afraid of change, honey. Without change there'd be stagnation. Who would want to go through life where nothing ever changed? And believe me, you've got a lot of years ahead of you, sister."
Another sigh. Now I'm being chastised.
Kind of deserve it though.
Tara runs the fingers of one hand through my damp hair, while the other hand reaches for the shampoo in the shower caddy. She lathers the shampoo in my hair, gently massaging it into my scalp with both hands. From my scalp to the ends of my dirty blonde hair, Tara strokes and washes, massages and detangles. The luxury of being pampered in such a way leaves me feeling tranquil. By the time Tara has rinsed, conditioned and rinsed again, I am sighing with contentment. I lean back, resting some of my weight on Tara, enjoying the moments of quiet companionship.
"Pass me the shower gel, Jenn."
Tara takes the bottle of shower gel, squirts a generous dollop on a cloth, then begins to wash my neck. With unhurried movements, she gently lathers my neck before moving on to my shoulders, all while keeping most of her wet, naked body pressed to my own. The cloth travels down my back, suds making it swish across my skin. The smell of raspberries envelops me, mixing with the smell of my Tara, to soothe my worries completely. My eyes close while behind me Tara continues to bathe me.
Over and across my hips goes the wet cloth, then down the long, lean length of my right leg. Tara kneels on the shower floor and points to my foot, wordlessly asking me to raise my leg. Bubbly suds sluice down my thigh and over my knee as I raise my foot and place it in Tara's hands. She studies my foot for a moment, perhaps looking at the glossy, pink polish on my toes. With tender care Tara washes my foot, running the cloth along my heel, tickling across my sole and then separating each toe to bathe them each individually. When she is finished, Tara takes my other foot in hand and washes my leg in reverse, from wiggling toes to hip. It feels absolutely marvelous!
When the soft, wet cloth finally dips over the damp curls of my pubes, then over and across the sensitive lips of my vagina I can't help pushing my crotch into Tara's hand. She giggles while nuzzling into the slick plane of my shoulder. I give a wordless cry when the wash cloth leaves my bubbling quim to travel back over my left hip. "Patience," Tara murmurs, "we've got to make sure you're clean everywhere."
The soapy cloth moves over the cheeks of my bubble bottom. Washing my ass, Tara moves the cloth from the top of my cheeks to the bottom, then reverses and moves the cloth side to side. By the time Tara moves the wash cloth to my crack I've spread my legs a little wider and bent slightly to the front. She glides it in between my cheeks, being sure to wash from my pussy back to asshole. The muscles of my belly tighten and I start to squirm.
When Tara drops the wash cloth and enfolds me in her arms, I lean back into her with abandon. I feel safe. Loved. Tara's skin is even warmer against my back than the heated water of the shower on my front. Tara's small hands rest upon my hips, pulling me firmly back against her. They glide up and across my ribs before settling on the slight mounds of my breasts; even Tara's small hands are enough to cover my tits. Achingly hard nipples press into the soft palms of her hands, press so tight against my lover, it's no surprise when I feel her erection stir to life against my right thigh.
Tara breath ghosts over my shoulder when she whispers, "You have no idea how much you mean to me!"
A lump forms in my throat, preventing me from telling her how much I love her. My body is thrumming with the need to express the feelings I have for my mate. I may not be able to tell her yet, but I can show her.
You bet your ass I can show her
. I drop my hand to my side, encircling the girth of Tara's turgid rod in my wet soapy grip. I run my hand up and down the shaft, twisting my grip around her glans on my upstroke and around the base on the down. Tara's hands press more firmly into my chest; I wonder if my hard nipples will poke right through the backs of her hands.
"Oh, Jenn," Tara moans. "I only wanted to comfort you, I wasn't trying to have sex with you."
"You saying you don't want to have sex with me?" I ask.
"Nope! I always want to have sex with you. I'm just telling you you're too stinkin' sexy for your own good."
I continue with long, slow strokes of Tara's gigantic cock until I hear her breathing begin to quicken. When her hips begin to thrust her sausage into my fist, I know I have her at my mercy. Turning so that I'm facing Tara, I use my free hand to cradle her tight little ballsack. Unbelievably, her scrotum is even warmer than the rest of Tara's unnaturally hot body. I heft those boiling gonads, surprised that something so small can produce so much spunk. My fingertips trace a gentle path right down her scrotum's seam. Tara get all jittery.
"Sssss. That tickles." Tara is watching me with those liquid gold eyes that show she's very aroused.
