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Her hands stroked him from base to tip again. When she reached the head, a bead of moisture was there. She used her thumb to spread it along his slit.
He moaned, his hips thrusting. “Fuck, I got close again fast. Shower.” He pulled away, turning on the taps and giving her a great view of his ass.
Beatrice moved closer, her hands brushing over his ass cheeks. He shuddered, his big hand bracing against the tile as the other gripped his cock. “Dammit, I need…” He groaned as he began jerking himself.
“To come,” Beatrice said, kissing low on his back, letting her lips trail up to his hunched shoulder. They hadn’t even made it inside the shower yet, and he was already working himself over in rapid pulls. Her head peeked around his side, watching his erection strain, the veins pronounced. Her hands curled around his hips, skimming over the skin directly above where his pubic hair started. “Let go, Montrell. Let yourself come.”
He cried out as he pumped down hard. Cum shot into the path of the pounding water, disappearing into the steam. His big body slumped, his hand that continued to brace the wall shaking to hold him upright. His breath was whooshing in and out.
“That’s a good boy,” she murmured, kissing him right above his trembling ass.
“Fuck, Bea,” he moaned, his hand stoking himself one last time before dropping away. “I came so fucking hard.”
His cheeks were deliciously flushed through his beard as he looked at her, searching her face.
“I liked watching it,” she said, feeling heat in her own cheeks.
His cock twitched. It hadn’t yet gone soft. “You’re going to make me a two-pump chump. I can feel it.”
“Is that what you’re worried about?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“A little,” he admitted with a self-deprecating laugh. “Ready to shower?”
She followed him into the water. Montrell liked the temperature a little on the hotter side, but he nudged it down a notch when he read her face. He held out his arms, and she placed herself against his chest. The water made the fit slippery, her body sliding against his.
Her surprised moan was covered by his deeper one. “This feels so good, Bea.” His hands skimmed along her back. She shimmied against him, biting her lip against the rise of sensation the second time. She’d never considered that her nipples would be sensitive. His beaded skin and chest hair felt marvelous, though.
“Can I wash you?” he asked, his hands pausing on her back. His erection pressed between them, still not soft, but she wasn’t nervous at all.
“Sure.” She turned her back to him, dragging her hair over her shoulder. “But start here?”
With soap, his hands gave her more than tingles. Waves of sensation skimmed over her from his wash turned back massage. Montrell never let his hands wander down to her ass, and she knew he hadn’t forgotten her dark moment.
She turned in his arms, and his hands shifted over her breasts. The sudden spike of a throb to her clit had her sucking in a breath as her eyes squeezed shut.
Montrell’s own breath was panting. He lathered his hands, giving her time to regroup.
Her eyes felt heavy as they opened to study the man in front of her. Montrell was the most gorgeous thing she’d ever seen, studying her nervously with those soapy hands.
“Touch me,” she offered, and he spread the soap over her chest. Each time his fingers or palm slipped over her nipples, her hips jerked.
His back blocked most of the water, and his fingers were hesitant as they skimmed over her scars. “Any pain?” he asked.
She shook her head. “They’re healed, Montrell.”
He continued to wash her, eventually cupping her breasts in his soapy hands, his fingers skimming the undersides as his thumbs found her nipples. The areolas began to wrinkle and tighten.
“Fuck, I need a taste.” His arms wrapped around her, and suddenly her feet weren’t touching the tile below as he lifted and bent her over his arms. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, his mouth already on her.
He took her nipple in his mouth, soap and all. His tongue wrapped around her, as if licking her clean, and flicked over her nipple hard. She gasped as the throbbing turned into a steady ache, with surges of intensity from every tug of his mouth. He began to suck in earnest, and her legs wrapped around his waist.
His erection pressed hard against his stomach as her hips surged against the length of it. It was as if the lips of her vagina were open around that length and shifted along it instead of drawing his cock inside.
“Oh, fuck!” he growled, one of his hands dropping to her ass to pull her tight against him as his head shifted to her other breast to duplicate his effort.
She felt molten inside. Hot and achy and wonderful all at once. She was horny, she realized. It felt fucking fantastic.
Her head jerked back at his hard suck, which shot a particularly intense bolt of electricity down to where she pressed against him. Her head bumped the tile wall, not too hard but enough to jolt her.
