He walks away and I follow on my hands and knees, d
own the hall and through another door into the bathroom. He turns the shower on and I wait, then he holds out a hand for me and I stand. My joints creak and ache and my cock is sensitive against my thigh.
Ronan helps me into the shower and he washes me, taking gentle care over the stripes on my ass and my well used sac. He’s rougher with my cock, stroking me until I’m hard, then moving to my thighs. Once he’s satisfied, he disconnects the shower head and rinses me. The hot water stings against the cane marks and I brace myself against the wall of the shower, because Ronan is nothing if not thorough.
“Gotta get up here, too,” he says, leaning closer and trailing a soapy finger over my ass. The water stops running and he disconnects the shower head, twisting the hose onto a thin nozzle that he pushes inside of me.
The water begins to fill me, and he rubs a gentle circle on my stomach. I groan and drop my head against the shower wall, my back to him. Memories of our play from the night before flash in my mind and my body warms with embarrassment.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, a tease in his voice. He knows what I’m thinking about because he’s thinking about it too.
The pressure inside me turns uncomfortable and I gasp, wanting to get away from the nozzle but not enough to move or say so. Because at the end of the day, I like this. And so does he.
“Tell me,” he commands, turning off the water and withdrawing the nozzle.
“When you…peed inside of me,” I whisper.
“Yeah. And then I fucked it out of you, didn’t I?”
I jerk my head up and down in some semblance of a nod.
“And then what happened? After I came inside of you?”
“I came,” I answer, remembering how cum leaked out of my softened cock after I… “and I pissed on your hand.”
“You did. You can let it go now.” He taps my shoulder and I shuffle around so my back is to the corner of the shower. He’s right. I’ve already pissed on him, and I cleaned myself before I came over last night so this should be relatively clean.
I do as he’s instructed, then he rinses me one more time and helps me out, drying me off with a thick and fluffy towel. He walks us both into the living room and sets me on the couch. He holds out his hand and I give him the towel, leaving me naked and damp, and he tosses it aside and fans a blanket out over me. He sits beside me with an arm over my shoulder and I curl into him.
“Next weekend, I’m going to use sounds on you,” he says, pressing a kiss against my temple. “Stretch that piss channel of yours out, and then before I use the thickest one, I’m going to lube it up with Icy Hot.”
“Ronan,” I gasp.
“But that’s for another day. Today is Sunday, and it’s a day of rest.”
He turns the TV on and beneath the blanket twines our fingers together, and we sit the rest of the afternoon in companionable, content silence.
