He shook his head. “Let me show you.”
He left the bed and walked over to the table where a plastic bag sat. He picked it up and walked back. I flung the blankets off and swung my legs and sat up. I tested my balance. There was no vertigo. Nothing. I felt as fit as ever.
I took the bag from Sam’s hands, opened the top, and peeked in. Then I started laughing too. Sam was grinning down at me, his cheeks turning pink. One by one I took out the items from the bag. A very, very long strip of condoms. A huge bottle of lube. Then there was a tube. I turned it in my hand. “What is this?”
Sam shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and shuffled from foot to foot. “Numbing gel,” he muttered, his face going red.
“The legendary gel!” I exclaimed. I turned over the tube andread the instructions. Then I waved it at him. “Well?” I couldn’t stop the shit-eating grin spreading on my face. “I mean, which one of us is using the gel? I know I want to, but I’m also fine with…you being the one to use it. I can do both.”
I sobered up for a minute. This was an important discussion. We had obviously never discussed this before. Sam looked away, not meeting my eyes, but when his voice came out it was strong and steady and confident. “Me too,” he replied. “Both.”
I whooped in the air with joy. “Yes, baby, let’s go.” I waved the gel around like it was a magical wand.
He started laughing at my antics. All this discussion made me so horny I was about to jump him right here at this moment. I lifted my arm and took a sniff and groaned. I smelled like penguin shit. “I need to shower. Have you showered already?”
“Yes, but I could use another,” he replied.
“Perfect. We are going to begin in the shower,” I informed him, as if I was starting a presentation on penguin statistics.
He turned his head and looked at me. “Begin what?”
“Fucking each other senseless.”
***
The bathroom at Waypoint was not designed with this ambition in mind. The shower was a single stall, the width of a doorframe, tiled in white that had gone the color of old bone.
Sam pulled his shirt over his head in one movement and dropped it. Then he reached over and started undressing me without being asked, his fingers working the buttons from the bottom up. The shirt came off. Our pants followed. My heart was hammering against my ribcage.
Sam turned the water on and waited with his hand under thestream until it ran hot, which felt like it took an eternity. Steam built against the low ceiling and fogged the small mirror above the sink. I let my eyes roam all over Sam’s naked body. He was covered in small nicks—result of a lifetime working on machines and outdoors. But the man was carved like a marble statue. Not an ounce of fat and all the muscles for my eyes to feast on. He had a light golden dusting of hair all over except the hair on his groin which was darker. I wanted to bury my nose in those curls.
“You’re so goddamn sexy,” I murmured.
He swallowed and blushed. I don’t think I was going to ever get tired of seeing this stoic man turn all shy for me.
He stepped inside first and pulled me in. Sam turned sideways so the spray hit my back first, the tiles cold against my arm where I braced against the wall. The water was hot and felt amazing.
Sam began working the soap across my back in long, slow passes. The bar of soap dragged across my shoulder blades. Down the curve of my spine. He worked methodically, no rushing, his palm following each pass to rinse and check. The heel of his hand pressed into the muscle beside my spine and something in my back released with an audible crack and I groaned at the ceiling.
“Good?” he asked.
“Obscenely good.”
I let him take his time with me with the soap. I wanted to be clean before touching him. The water ran over both of us. My dick stood erect, throbbing with need. My balls felt painful with how heavy they were.
Finally he seemed done. He put the bar of soap away and I immediately pulled to turn around. But he wouldn’t let me. Sam pulled me flush against his hard body, my back to his chest. I was ready to drop to my knees and suck him but he seemed tohave other ideas. He must have sensed my restlessness because he rested his chin on my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “Hush.”
His hands roamed over my upper arms, rubbing up and down, slowly and repeatedly. My body started relaxing and I felt my mind slowing down. He trailed his fingertips over my forearms. His touch was hypnotic. I let my head fall back and breathed through the cascade of needs washing over me. His hands moved to my chest and I shuddered. He mapped my ribs one by one.
“Sam,” I whimpered. I felt like a instrument being tuned by him. Pulled taut.
“Hmm.” His deep voice vibrated by my ear.
Inch by inch his fingers trailed up my torso until his palms grazed my nipples.
“Oh, fuck,” I groaned wantonly.
He took each of my nipples between his fingers and then he pinched hard. I had thought about this. I had thought about this in very specific and detailed ways. In my fantasies Sam was measured and careful with me, his hand on my body always steady. In real life, Sam blew all my fantasies away.
