Chapter Twenty-Eight
Bowie
There was some hyperventilating going on as Kari helped him strip, knuckles grazing over exposed skin and sending tendrils of excitement to his already eager cock. The conversation was the most intense of his life when it came with the knowledge that whatever happened next, Kari would take care of him. Put his needs above his own, like he always did.
He squirmed, unable to hold still for a second at the certainty. Bowie did his best to not think about the logistics of what would happen when they got into the shower. He had no idea how to be sexy or alluring, words he’d heard Wilder use. And although he wanted this more than anything he could remember wanting, he was more than a little anxious at the unknown.
When Kari stripped completely, it was impossible to stop his gaze dipping to peek at what he’d not seen before. Oh, he had imagined Kari without his boxer briefs, yes, he had. Nothing quite prepared him for how magnificent he looked fully naked. There were grooves and ridges that Bowie’s body did not have.Power—he exuded it in everyday life. Naked, it was there in every defined inch of him. His presence and scent filled the space.
When Kari swaggered to switch on the shower and Bowie got a view of his bare bottom, he whimpered. High and tight, the golden skin gleamed in the overhead lights. The grin Kari aimed at him over his shoulder was sexy, and Bowie’s heart got a workout.
“If something doesn’t feel right, just tell Daddy. This is about you getting used to Daddy’s hands touching youintimately.”
The bathroom suddenly felt confining. There didn’t seem to be any space left even for the steam billowing out of the cubicle when Kari beckoned him closer. When Bowie stepped into the shower on shaky legs, to his mind it had shrunk to half the original size when he couldn’t seem to avoid the large,very nakedman in front of him.
Bowie was a nervous wreck when Kari’s body brushed against his in a slide of wet silkiness, because it dawned that this time, the intention was not about washing.
This is Kari. This is Kari.He worked to reassure himself.A naked Kari.
Not helping, so not helping,he hyperventilated.
When Kari grabbed the scented soap he liked to use, Bowie’s feet shuffled closer without conscious thought. Water ran over the front of his body, not too hot to scold the skin, just warm enough to relax the muscles. Was he relaxing? No!
How am I supposed to not faint?
He couldn’t stop his gaze from traveling over the naked man soaping his hands in front of him.
Kari had never been like this when in the shower with Bowie before, and it was like someone had given Bowie a box of cakes and told him he could try them all at once. The thrill waspalpable inside him. So much so that it was difficult to hold still, despite the anxiousness competing with it.
Every inch of Kari was toned and firm, so different from himself. Would it matter to Kari?
Stop that silliness. Look how his body is reacting to our closeness.
Bowie couldn’t stop looking. Kari’s veiny shaft stood proud, curving up towards his belly. It was much bigger than Bowie’s. Long, thick and, in Bowie’s opinion, looking more delicious than his cherry brownies, not that he’d seen anyone else’s, or tasted one. It didn’t matter to Bowie’s mind when he hadn’t wanted to see anyone else's, never mind taste it.
The tip of his tongue ran unconsciously over his full lips, wondering if he’d get the chance to try now. Silky smooth looking, he wondered if it would feel the same. His fingers itch to touch. Unsure if that was allowed, he balled his hands at his side until his nails dug into the soft skin of his palms. Should he ask for permission?
As though Kari plucked the thought from his head, he softly murmured, “If you want to touch Daddy, go right ahead.”
Bowie swallowed the pooling saliva on his tongue and eagerly removed the remaining gap between them, water splashing over his head. Kari placed soapy fingers gently on Bowie’s shoulders, massaging as they moved in slippery strokes. The moan was a whisper on the steamy air as Bowie forgot his own desires at the feel of Kari’s intimate touch. It was no longer routine. His skin buzzed with warm sensations that tickled under the surface. The slippery glide of palms moving, exploring the contours of his upper body was breath-taking. Whatever Bowie had imagined didn’t come close to the all-consuming, empowering feelings. He never wanted them to disappear when it energized and made him feel weightless at the same time.
He floated in the heady sensations, his lower body rocking with intention, seeking stimulation to the part of him that ached. Where he would have felt embarrassment, there was none with Kari murmuring soft words of encouragement, telling him how beautiful he was.
He believed him when Kari’s exquisite blue eyes held love. Love for him.
“Such a good boy. You want Daddy’s touch, don’t you?”
“Uh huh.” It was all Bowie had.
“Want Daddy to show you how much he loves you?” Lips brushed over his, and a throbbing grew in his balls. The words, the feel of Kari surrounding him, gods he was about to fly apart into a million pieces. “Look how hard Daddy is from touching you.”
A hand slipped lower, following the trail of bubbles, gliding over his quivering belly. Another soft kiss, gently coaxing his lips apart so Kari’s tongue could explore. Taste. Tease.
Kari didn’t rush, and Bowie understood why. This was all for him. All about him.
His breathing grew labored but the sounds he made were swallowed in Kari’s mouth as he kept it at a pace that left Bowie mindless. His hips rocked forward, the head of his cock brushing against Kari’s thigh, trailing heat up the solid length. Sensations built, layer by layer. Each gentle caress led to something bigger that expanded inside Bowie. Until all he knew was Kari’s touch. Slick dripped down the back of his thighs as he rocked. His arousal thickened the steamy air, but it wasn’t his alone, and that emboldened Bowie.
“Daddy, more,” he moaned against the teasing lips stroking over his own.
