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“No,” he says. “You don’t have to suck it up.”
With that, he scoops me into his arms, taking the pressure off my legs. The burn is still there as I wrap my arms around his neck, but it’s so much easier like this.
I relax in his strong arms as he crosses the apartment and kicks open the bathroom door.
He starts up the shower while he’s still holding me. I’ve almost forgotten how sore I am until he tells me to brace myself and lowers me down onto the toilet.
Owww.
“Thanks,” I say once I settle onto the seat.
“For toilet roll?” he replies with a smirk as he pulls some from the roller.
I take it from him. “Thanks, Josh. It’s nice to be so cared for.”
His stunning green eyes are brighter than usual under the bathroom spotlights. Addictive.
“No. Thank you,” he says. “It’s great to be with someone who isn’t so entitled they expect it without so much as a thought.”
I think I’ll be fine now, but a gentle wipe of the toilet paper between my legs makes me wince.
“You’ve probably pulled some muscles,” he says, like a doctor as he squats and eases my legs open. “Maybe we were a tad overzealous.”
“I don’t give a shit about pulled muscles. The heat was insane.”
“Yes,” he says. “It was.”
He helps me lift my dress up and over my head, and crouches back down in front of me as I take a pee. He doesn’t even blink as he gently wipes me clean after.
“Ready for the shower?”
“God yes.”
I’m a bit steadier this time when he helps me to my feet, and it feels like steamy bliss under the running water. What a view as I watch Josh strip naked and step in beside me. It’s lovely to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss, and so natural when he soaps his hands up with shower gel and washes me down. His fingers on my shoulders are so skilled it feels like a massage, and I relish every second – even when he spins me around and addresses the state of my ass, spreading my cheeks apart to let the water flow wash me down.
“Bend over,” he says.
He kneels behind me to get a better view, using the shower foam to clean the wreckage he’s left behind, but it’s easing now. Under the warmth of the water, everything is easing.
“Your turn,” I say when he’s done.
I soap him down, paying careful attention to his cock. The shower gel makes the water run a reddish brown as I wash him. My grip makes him hard, and my clit is sparking again at the sight. Damage be damned.
I keep his cock in my grip, soaping his shaft up and down.
“I think my pussy needs another clean,” I say. “It feels dirty.”
Oh, his smirk.
“Are you telling me you’re horny again already? I’m impressed.”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
“I’d better take a look, then.”
He drops to his knees, and I open my legs, despite the pain. His tongue piercing has me bracing myself against the glass of the shower screen, and he keeps a slow rhythm against my clit, circling me as the water splashes. I could never get enough of him. Never.
He doesn’t finger me, or spread me, just gentle tongue strokes over my clit, little nudges that soon have me gripping his hair and writhing into his face.
