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She exclaims how tense his muscles are, as she works over his lean torso and legs. During the most vigorous and rapturous pulsing spikes and surges, as the limits of his soft enclosing briefs are reached, there is a noticeable pause in her activity, a hushed silence, but an ever-present electricity in the air, as she registers the obvious excitement dancing before her eyes. His body is in full contradiction, as is his imagination. On the one hand, there is this settled welcomed relaxed calm, and visions of ocean waves caressing white sands, yet in some symbiotically melded merger, there is this charged force of vibrancy that simultaneously coerces his senses into a most vigorous state of alertness, readiness, and masculine potential. Images of waves coming to shore then receding to hidden depths filter through his mind. His breathing begins to match, as does an ever-present pulsing between his legs. As one of his hands lies at the edge of the bed and hangs slightly over, and as. Rather than distract my mind from thinking of him close against me, the cool pulse of the shower makes my pussy throb for attention. With the water dripping from my little hard nipples, I gently stroke my middle finger across my clit, gently parting my lips. Even this simple gesture brings a little sigh from my lips. I start to move my fingers around in small anticlockwise movements, just around my clit, before I’ve even registered what I’m doing. The hard, glowing feeling has just begun in the bottom of my tummy when I hear the doorbell. Slightly embarrassed, regardless of the empty house, I jump out of the shower, wrap myself in a towel and head down the stairs. Fully expecting to be able to resume my shower in a few minutes, I leave the shower running. I’ll try it colder next time. That might help. Throwing open the door, half hoping that it will be a salesman or a witness that I can embarrass with my appearance, I find myself staring at him. Him! Who had wound up to the point of.
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