You wrapped your arms around my lower back and gripped your hands at the sweet spot where my thighs and ass meet. Your eyes met mine with fire and you lifted me up. My back pressed against the wall, but it arched as you kissed me deeply with the water running down my face. My legs hooked along the lines of your lower back and the same steam that masked the windows swirled around us.
The water carrying mascara ran clear and the flush of my cheeks became evident. You grinned and lathered up my body with soap as we drunkenly giggled. Your eyes—God I can’t stop talking about your eyes—kept meeting mine, and you’d bend your 6’3″ frame and kiss my nose when you saw fit.
You hummed love songs and I pretended they were for me. We always pretend when we’re together.
I normally hate being intimate in the shower, I even fought you as you tried to to persuade me to follow you in there. But I’m so glad I did.
Brand None 