She’s been carrying so much. I can feel it when I reach her lower back. The stress, the weight of everything she’s been through with her piece of shit ex-husband. If nothing else, if tonight is only about bringing her the release she needs, I’m more than willing to do that for her.
When I get to her neck, I take my time, pressing my thumbs into the tight knots of muscle and forgetting all about the loofah. Her head tilts back slightly, a soft moan slipping free, andfuck. That sound. I want to hear it again.
I press deeper, finding the source of the tension, and she moans again, breathy and unguarded, sending a bolt of need straight through me to my cock that’s been unashamedly pressing into her ass, eager for some action.
I reach around her, detach the showerhead, and rinse away the soapy trails that I’ve left behind. But before I can finish, she turns, pressing her front to mine, those heavy breasts against my chest, her eyes dark with intent. Her hand wraps around my cock, firm and sure, stroking once, twice, anddammit, it feels good to have someone who isn’t me doing that.
“I want you to fuck me tonight,” she says, voice steady, gaze locked onto mine.
I nod, my pulse a steady roar in my ears.
“I’ll do whatever you want me to do,” I promise, my voice thick, raw. “This is about you. Not me.”
“It’s about both of us,” she replies.
I give her a nod. “You first.” And then I sink back to my knees, nudging her knees apart slightly, pressing her back against the shower wall, my lips brushing the soft skin just below hernavel in a soft kiss. Taking my time.
She gasps, but I don’t look up. Instead, I part her legs just a little wider and my tongue traces a slow, deliberate line over the delicate skin of her pubic bone down to the top of her pussy.
My hands drop to her ankles, lifting them one at a time, placing them on my steady shoulders until she’s braced fully against the shower wall with her weight balance on me.
Her breathing stutters. “This feels… unsteady.”
I glance up at her, smirking. “Do you doubt my ability to hold you up?”
She laughs softly, looking down at me. “With those arms? No, I don’t. I’ve never been held up like this before.”
“Good.” I squeeze the back of her thigh, fingers pressing into soft, wet skin before they move up to both of her ass cheeks, more than a handful, exactly how I like it. “Because you shouldn’t. I’ve worked in construction for years. You feel like a feather to me. Now relax and let me eat your pussy.”
I don’t give her a chance to respond before my mouth is on her, pressing a lingering, teasing kiss against her center before sliding my tongue deep inside for my first taste. It’sheaven.She’s soaked, and not just from the shower. She’s turned on.She’s already ready, but I know I need to earn this—show her exactly how much pleasure she deserves without bringing my wants into it. Show her exactly what she’s been missing.
“Gabriel,” she moans when my tongue moves to her clit. I flick it a few times, feeling it swell against my lips.One of my hands moves between her thighs, slipping two fingers deep into her pussy, testing the way her walls clench down in a silent, involuntaryyes please.
“Yes, Gabriel,” she moans, her hands finding my hair, nails scraping lightly against my scalp. “That feels amazing.”
The water cascades down around us, but she’s warmer thanall of it—softer, more open, her usual guarded edges have dissolved under my touch. I like her like this. This is the Alessia her ex probably got before he fucked everything up. This is the Alessia he never deserved.
I drag my tongue across her pussy again while thrusting my fingers in and out of her opening. She moans louder. So receptive. So needy.
Fuck,I love her like this.
My mouth moves with more urgency, tongue flicking, lips sucking, my free hand gripping the curve of her ass to keep her steady.
“You taste so fucking good,” I say against her clit. “Show me how much you like it.”
She rocks her hips forward in answer, grinding against my mouth, and I respond—sucking, teasing, pulling at her clit, rubbing my mustache and beard all over her until she’s gasping. Begging. Pleading for release.
“Louder, Alessia,” I demand, my voice thick with hunger. “Show me how good it feels to come after so long. Tell me that it’s me. Tell me that you want to come on my face.”
“Yes, Gabriel,” she moans. “Give it to me. Wreck me. Just like that. I want to come on your face.”
I ease a third finger inside her, stretching her, filling her. Her entire body clenches. Her eyes open wide, wild and unguarded, and I glance up at her—face slick, mouth swollen, nose coated in the scent of her—feeling like a king.
I’ve always loved pleasing a woman. Always thought they were the superior ones—more in control, more intuitive, while men stumble through life led by impulse and ego, starting wars, killing innocent people, women are at home raising families, giving grace where it’s not deserved and holding the world together.
This—bringingherto pleasure,herto this edge after everything she’s been through—this might just be the highlight of my entire decade.
“Gabriel,” she gasps, and I flick my tongue against her clit, slow and relentless, driving her higher.
