What’s changed?
Why now?
And whyRemington?
Crystal-blue eyes pop into my mind without permission. So clear and impossibly blue, like sunlight caught beneath ice. Dimples that give his smile an easy charm come next. I never thought twice about them before, but now they make my stomach dip. They heat my blood when I think about them paired with the look in his eyes, like he was daring me to tell him that he’s wrong.
Unwanted arousal swims through my veins, pooling low in my groin. Without even touching myself, my cock’s standing at attention, so goddamn stiff and ready to go, just thinking about the studio. How we were all alone, our proximity close as we shaped the bowl. It would be wrong—sofucking wrong—to touch myself. To wrap my hand around my aching cock and stroke, knowing it’s my son’s best friend behind my eyelids.
I can’t.
Shoving the thought out of my mind, or at least, attempting to, I reach for the shampoo. I do my best to think ofanythingother than him, of what I want to do with him.
I should feel disgusted.
I should feel repulsed.
Once I lather my hair and rinse it out, I move to the soap. I focus on cleaning my body diligently. My arms, underarms, chest. Moving lower, I scrub my legs, then my feet, telling myself when I get there, I won’t linger. I’ll wash myself, rinse, and get out. I won’t give in to the desire radiating through my body.
And I stick to that plan… At first.
But then I picture him standing inmyshower, fully naked, and covering himself with my soap. That image quickly shifts to me standing before him, using my own hands to lather his lean, sexy body up. I’d start with his broad shoulders. I’d work my fingers into his skin, massaging and cleaning at the same time.
He’d be facing me, his chin tucked while watching my hands move intentionally over his upper body. His nipples would be taut and hard, unable to resist. My mouth waters as I imagine leaning down and flicking my tongue against one. I’d suck the sensitive bud into my mouth and drag my teeth gently over it. Maybe he’d moan. The sound is so vivid in my mind, throaty and deep. Seductive.
Fuck.
A layer of goosebumps bloom over my flesh as I give in to the fantasy and wrap my hand around my stiff length. My lips part, a gasp falling from me as I stroke myself firmly from base to tip. I let my head fall back, my eyelids fluttering as the scene in my mind intensifies. I’d make my way down his abdomen, washing every last inch and relishing the feel of my hands on him. The feel of his defined muscles under my touch.
Dropping to my knees, the floor of the shower biting into my skin, I would peer up at him from below. A shiver races downmy spine, a jolt of pleasure spreading through my blood as I envision the way he’d look down at me. His teeth sinking into his full, pink bottom lip, thick, dark brows clashed together, and undiluted arousal pouring from his gaze.
Visions of what his cock might look like flash next. Would he be long? Or maybe his length would be shorter, but he’d make up for it in girth. Yeah—fuck—I bet he’s thick and delicious. Maybe a couple of veins running along the side, perfect for my tongue to trace them.
I imagine his cock bobbing in my face. I’d wrap my fist around the shaft, similar to what I’m doing with mine. Stroking nice and slow, I’d open my mouth and tease the tip with my tongue. A groan rips from my chest. I can practically taste the saltiness of his pre-cum dripping onto my tongue. He’d fist my hair, wanting—no,needing—more, and his moans would fill the air, along with the steam billowing around us.
“Fuck…fuck.” My hand flies up and down, pleasure soaring through my body and going straight to my fucked-up head.
Visions intensify and morph. Suddenly, I’m taking him as far back into my throat as I can manage. He’s cutting off my air supply, my nose brushing against the hair surrounding the base.
Remington iseverywhere.
He’s consuming me while I consume him in my mind. Where he ends and I begin becomes a mystery. We’re one in this fantasy. I need him deeply, and he’d look at me like he needs me just as badly. We both know how wrong this is, but we don’t care. It feels too good.
My body is on fire, sweat dripping from pores that has nothing to do with the temperature of the water.
Remington guides my head. His teeth are bared, his chest heaving. He’s losing it. He’s unraveling.
And so am I.
I can’t stop. I feel it building. My balls draw up tightly into my body. The water’s beating down on me, my forearm holding me up against the wall. The pleasure is growing and magnifying as I picture Remington inching closer to release in my mind. Thoughts of him cracking explode inside my head. The sounds he makes, the rapid breaths. The way his fingers scratch my scalp as he tries to tug on the strands. Begging me for more.
“Make me come, daddy,”he’d moan. It’s crystal clear.“Fuck, daddy, I’m close.”
Me too.
He’d swell in my mouth, the words flying from his incoherent. He’s there… Right on the edge, and so am I.
I imagine him throwing his head back, feeling his cock pulse against my tongue. Unloading down my throat, a guttural groan that matches mine sets me off.
