The water poured down. Hot. The glass of the enclosure was fogged with steam.
They had soaped and rinsed and were now locked in an embrace. Mouth on mouth, hands and fingers busy.
They were panting, a duet in unison.
Do you want to cum? He asked.
Yes
Don’t cum now; don’t cum until I tell you.
Ahhg, then you have to slow down.
He didn’t.
He held her tight with his free arm.
Her struggle not to come was tangible. Her body twitched; swaying away and closer, twisting, pressing. A sensual, erotic dance filled with tension, apprehension, anticipation.
Her hand lost pace as she focussed.
He held her closer, brought his lips to her ear.
If I let you cum, what can I do to you?
Ogh she moaned as she tried to split her concentration, to consider the question.
He didn’t slow down.
Her hand stopped.
Aahh, she had trouble forming words: Anything.
He moved closer again, lips against her ear.
Good girl, he paused.
OK, you can cum.
She moaned and started to shudder.
She began to sink, struggle to stand. He tightened his arm around her and held her up so that she none of her energy would be wasted. Bodies welded together, they shuffled and swayed to the tremors that went through her.
He stilled his hand and she slumped into his arms.
The first dance was over.
|
