Soft and moist and serving beneath the spray

Soft.

Sweet.

Moist.

 

No.

Not talking about my pussy this time.

It was a different sort of intimacy.

A morning shower.

Finally, after all these years.

All the yearning.

We had enough morning for me to serve him in the shower.

 

And no.

It was nothing like in my story.

He didn't fuck me.

Not in my ass.

Not in any other orifice.

He went into the bathroom,

and allowed me to enter,

and bade me run the shower

and to follow him into the shower.

 

And I knelt down under the little bit of spray that slipped past his body, and washed him with the soap in my hands, and washed him with my bare soapy hands, and took in my hands his poor tired cock, and washed with my hands his sweet worn-out cock, which had worked so hard all through the evening and most of the night and again in the morning before he allowed me to join him in the shower

to join him in the shower
and worship him under the spray.