“In your suite?” I gasped.
“No, here. There’s a great handicapped steam shower in the men’s room.” He pressed his heavy erection against me. “And right now, I’d say I’m handicapped.”
I swallowed hard and let him lead the way, his hand clasping mine. The thought of showering in the men’s room made me feel like a very naughty schoolgirl.
There was no one in the men’s room. The spacious handicapped shower, complete with support railings and a bench, occupied a corner at the end of a row of shower stalls. We shrugged off our robes and hung them on the hooks bracketing the shower door.
Jaime’s hands gripped the top edge of my bathing suit.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like? I’m taking off your bathing suit.”
“Wait! Remember? This was not part of the prize package!” Too late. The wet suit was already a crumpled heap at my feet.
“Not fair.”
“Don’t worry.” He immediately slid his off too.
For the first time, I got an eyeful of his cock. Holy cow! It was huge. And the veined, pink pillar of flesh was pointed my way. Run, Gloria! Forget it! My legs had turned to jelly, and the air had left my lungs.
Taking my clammy hand, Jaime led me into the shower stall. Trailing him, I noticed a series of faint white lines streaking his back. Stretch marks? This was the only imperfection on his otherwise perfect body. They didn’t distract from his beauty.
With his free hand, he slammed the glass door shut. He jiggled the shower knob, and a forceful spray shot out from the showerhead. He wrapped his muscled arms around me from behind, spooning my body into his. His powerful arousal brushed against my backside.
The hot water pounded on the two of us. He tightened his grip around me and nuzzled the nape of my neck, then the sides. I’d never realized how sensitive my neck was. The erotic sensation made me tingle all over.
“Gloria, you are so fucking beautiful,” he whispered into my ear. He nibbled the lobes then rolled his tongue inside my inner ear. The strangely erotic swooshing sound was turning me on even more.
Slipping off the simple black elastic at the end, he started to undo my braid. Slowly, section by section. I closed my eyes, and when I reopened them, my thick platinum hair hung loose to the base of my spine. He raked his fingers through the long soaked strands.
“I want to see you with your hair down tonight.”
Not wanting to think about how long it would take me to blow dry my mane, I asked, “Where do you want to eat with me tonight?
“I’ll eat with you anywhere you breathe.”
His words sent a shiver up my spine. A restaurant was not what I was thinking about.
I felt him kiss the top of my head; he buried his nose into my scalp and inhaled.
“Mmmm. I can’t get enough of your hair. It’s like wet silk.” He squirted a dollop of shampoo onto his palm from the canister and then rubbed it gently all over my head. He began to lather the creamy soap into my hair, digging the tips of his deft fingers deep into my scalp. I arched back my head and closed my eyes, allowing myself to savor the sensual physical sensation and erotic squishy sound. God, it felt good. Like a scalp fuck. As he worked conditioner into my hair, I moaned with pleasure. What these beautiful, nimble fingers could do!
Still standing close behind me, he moved his hands to my full breasts and began to knead them, circling and squeezing. His palm passed over the raised scar above my left breast, but he again seemed oblivious to it. In response, I undulated my hips, brushing my backside against his erection. His hips moved with mine.
“They’re for real,” he murmured, groping my mounds.
I wanted to punch him. “Yes.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Obviously, he’d fondled the surgically enhanced type way too many times. Maybe even Vivien’s? I inwardly flinched then relaxed. I had to remember: he was a stud, the gorgeous millionaire kind, who’d probably fucked a gazillion beautiful women. And felt up twice as many breasts. I let it go and let myself enjoy the sensuous massage.
I always knew I had sensitive breasts, but not this sensitive. Each time his thumbs trailed across my nipples, a jolt of pleasure zapped my core. I moaned and moaned again. The peaks grew hard and long, and the more he rubbed them, the more my body throbbed with desire.
Jaime breathed into my ear. “Ah, those perfectly puckered rosebuds of yours are so tender.”
Leaving a knowing hand on one tit, he slid the other down my torso until it made its way to the fiery triangle between my thighs. Bee-lining for my clit, he fingered it with single-minded fury. My own moisture mingled with the shower. My nub hardened beneath his touch as he continued to circle it fast and hard. My breathing grew ragged. He was driving me wild and I wanted, no needed, to come badly.
“Please make me come,” I cried out.
He abruptly withdrew his fingers—almost like a punishment for asking. “Not yet, Gloria. I want you do to something for me first.”