Soapy

The curtain opened, and she joined me in the shower. She smiled at me, pulled the curtain back closed behind her, then stepped into the spray and hugged me. I put my arms around her, holding her close, her breasts pressed against my chest.

"I woke up early," she said. "Want to have some fun?"

"I can't be late for work again," I reminded her. "Not after last time."

"Don't worry." She smiled. "I'll just help you get clean."

She reached behind me, grabbed the soap off the shower caddy, held it in the water. We turned around, doing that awkward and intimate shower-shuffle that we have to do in our narrow bathtub, pressing our bodies tight together and holding on for balance. Once I was standing out of the spray, she rubbed the soap in her hands, getting a lather going, eying my naked body hungrily.

She stepped forward. I expected her to go right for my cock--I wanted her to. Instead, she put her hands on each side of my neck, still holding the soap in her left, and she started soaping up my neck and shoulders. She's got small hands, but strong, and she knows how to give a good massage. The early morning stiffness started to leave my muscles, moving further south.

After she soaped up my shoulders, she moved on to my biceps, smiling at the way the muscles felt, the way that both her hands still couldn't quite wrap around me there. She did...