I love watching him shower. There is something so personal about watching someone bathe. I sat on the floor and watched as he went through his normal ritual and routines. He seemed so at ease with me watching and I remember thinking that I would feel self-conscious if someone was watching me as intently as I was watching him. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. At first, I avoided looking at his cock. Partly out of my normal shyness but I realized that his whole body was hypnotic as he moved from shampoo to soap to conditioner. We were talking like we were at the kitchen table and it seemed so normal for him. For me, it was a right of passage in some ways. It made me feel more like his. Sitting on the floor talking about music and then he would sing a line of a song he wanted me to learn. I joke about him “singing in the shower” and he looks down and winks at me. Just a look from him and I feel the wet warmth between my legs. The bathroom is steamy and humid. I am fully dressed but I know the heat I feel is not from the humid steam from the hot water but from just being there with him.
These simple things that most couples experience on a regular basis are moments I cherish with him. He had told me I could go downstairs and watch TV until he was done but I asked if I could stay. He smiled and said sure. His primary had never done that. She always chose TV or video games. Maybe there is complacency that comes when you are with someone long enough that you forget to appreciate the small normal moments. In past relationships I know I was guilty of this. With him, at this moment, I can’t imagine ever tiring of watching him. I loved watching him. Watching him move, eat, sleep, drive, work, and now bathe.
He is full of soap from head to toe. The bathroom smells of a mix of his body wash and shampoo. It is citrus with something else I can’t identify. The humid air is thick and I am laughing at something he has said. I look up and he has his cock in his hand. I remember thinking he seems to be a little rough with it. I usually caress his cock, licking and sucking. Sometimes I am aggressive when he wants me to be, but watching him handle it excited me. Lathered in soap his hand moves quickly and freely around his shaft and balls. Watching him take care that everything was cleaned and nothing missed had me wishing I was washing it or him. I wanted to clean him. I wanted to climb in the shower with him and continue cleaning him. Soapy bubbles between my fingers and his skin. I wanted to run my fingers over his body with care to make sure that everything was clean the way he wanted it to be. I tried to focus on what he was saying but my mind wondered my thoughts were on where I wanted my hands to be.
My hand moved between my legs, slowly, I didn’t want him to catch me. I just wanted to touch my clit and maybe that will pacify me. He catches me. He smiles. I look away shyly, but I’m smiling too. “Carry on little girl,” he says with a smirk. Caught in the act, I was appreciative of the permission. I move my hand to go inside my pants. “No, no. Outside your clothes, as you started.” I look up at him and he sees the disappointment. “There are consequences to your decisions”.
“Yes, Daddy.” There was a time I never would have reached to touch myself. Now, I am disappointed that I can’t touch my clit with my fingers and feel the wetness there. Feel the heat there. There was a time that I never would have wanted anyone to see me touching myself. Now, it is exciting that he is watching. Him, completely naked, wet and soapy in the shower. Me, completely clothed, sitting on the floor, reaching for my clit as it hides under my jeans. I find the seam of my jeans and move it back and forth. Feeling the friction as it rolls over my clit. Shocks of tiny sensations shimmer from my clit down my legs. My breath catches. I don’t take my eyes off of him. He reaches for the electric razor and starts to trim the hair just above his cock. The light buzz of the razor blending with the water bouncing off the shower door. I can not take my eyes off of him. He isn’t looking at me. He isn’t watching me. I feel another shock from the friction on my clit. My breath catches again and I close my eyes. “Do not take your eyes off me Toy.” My eyes shoot open and look at him again. He is watching me. How does he do that? My finger presses harder on the seam of my jeans. Moving the seam faster back and forth against my clit. The shimmers of sensations running back and forth inside my body. The heat inside me is mixing with the heat of the bathroom. His is moving the razor, running over the shaft to get those few stray hairs. His cock has gotten a little harder. Is it me, or has he aroused himself by his preening? He is watching me enough to make sure I continue to look at him but are my actions enough to excite him?
He replaces the razer and begins to rinse the soap and shampoo from his body. My eyes watch as his hand run over his body to make sure the soap falls to the shower floor. When he is confident all the soap is gone, he reaches over and turns off the water. I hear the last drops hit the floor, quick little drops that slow and stop with one last plunking sound. My hand has found a rhythm that remains steady on the seam of my jeans. He reaches for the towel and begins to dry his body. Once again, I watch as his hands run over his body making sure to remove the water as he removed the soap before. He opens the shower door steps out. He is standing over me and I feel the leftover heat from his body that the steamy water has left. His hair, towel dried, curls around his ears and the base of his neck. He towers over me as I watch him move with confidence. Naked, strong, confident, clean.
I am lightheaded from the heat in the bathroom, his presence in front of me and the heat the seam of my jeans has generated. I breathe in and roll my eyes as I try to control my body’s reactions and responses to my environment. He turns to face me. He seems 10 feet tall from my perspective on the floor. His cock is just above eye level and close to my face. I look up and find his eyes. He isn’t smiling. He is staring at me with an expression that I don’t know how to interpret. “Now, little girl.” his voice comes slow and low and it is the order I was waiting for. Two quick movements from my finger on the seam of my jeans and my body stiffens and my muscles tighten. The shimmers and shocks of tingling sensations pulse from clit and fan out through my body. I breathe in sharply and hold my breath in my chest while my body accepts the orgasm in waves.
“Good girl. Good girl.” I hear his voice through closed eyes and held breath. I feel his hand on my head, gently twisting my hair in his fingers. He pulls my head toward him. I open my eyes and his cock is hard and directly in front of me. I look up at him, still feeling the spasms of my orgasm. He pulls on my hair and my mouth moves closer to him. I am excited at the thought of having his cock in my mouth. The scent of the soap is strong but I can still smell his scent. The scent he has when he wants me. The scent that makes me want him. I look up to find his eyes. He is smiling, looking down at me with those dark eyes that tell me everything I want to hear and need no words to hear them. He pulls me to him, his fingers entangled in my hair. I check his eyes again and he nods, giving me the permission I was waiting for. I open my mouth to take him in. I taste the soap and the salty hint of come. He pulls my head away, leans over and kisses my forehead.
“Now I am clean little girl.”