He let me down. My legs wobbled so I had to hold on to him until I was able to gather my bearings. He was muted. While I was there resting my face against his hard bubbled chest. I realized he was drenched from the shower. Crap. He has to come out of these clothes.
I pushed up off him and began to pull his shirt up. He assisted by pulling it off. His T-shirt followed. Next, I pulled down his denims. As I knelt down to pull them from his legs his remaining erection startled me, it was sheathed in rubber. Azmir snickered as he pulled it off. When did he put on a condom? Shit! I didn't think to protect myself! This never happens. What the hell has come over me? I pulled off his pants, boxer briefs, and socks.
“You can now go shower,” I informed him. We both laughed. “I'll go grab a towel set,” I said as he stepped back into the shower.
When I returned, I noticed he had begun lathering up his hands. I jumped in with him, poured shower gel into my scrub and began washing him from neck to toes. I admired his body at every discovery. Azmir was handsomely chiseled. His carvings were of a masterpiece. His shoulders were broad and hard. His back was smooth and incised. He had a six-pack that called my name. And the trail of hair from his navel to his manhood was so inviting to my tongue. I had to remember I was a guest to his body; not the co-owner so I kept my composure the best that I could.
His legs were well toned. And his toes were surprisingly beautiful. I could scrub him for hours but what I really wanted was him inside of me again. As he rinsed off, his phone began to sound from the vanity, where I laid it before discarding his wet clothing. That damn phone was my rival at times. It reminded me that I was on borrowed time with Azmir and he was in high demand.
He looked to me as to ask if I minded him attending to it.
“Oh, go. I'll just finish up and be right out.”
As he stepped out I rolled my eyes.
After my shower, I walked out into my bedroom and found Azmir sitting on the side of my bed with a towel wrapped around his tapered waist. He was viewing the contents of his pant pockets on my nightstand.
“I took the liberty of running your clothes through the washer. I'll put them in the drier once they're done,” I explained.
He smiled very contented. Whew! I was fluttered with relief.
“I guess this means Mr. Jacobs is stuck with me for a little while longer,” I teased still uneasy about his desire to stay. I didn't know if he wanted to run out and tend to whatever his call was about. I chose to be more aggressive about my wanting to be in his presence a little while longer.
He gave me a squint as to say he was confused. That was followed by a smile. That smile was my cue. I looked down at my toes to cure my nerves before dropping my towel. When it hit the floor I looked up at him to gauge his reaction. He looked pleasantly shocked. I walked over to him and straddled him while standing. I lifted his head and buried my tongue in his mouth. My inner walls throbbed. It was as if I were not just satisfied minutes ago. I wanted more. He grabbed the back of my thighs and began to caress them while I sucked on his bottom lip.
“Can I have more?” I asked. This time I was more sure of myself and ability to keep him there with me. My confidence had returned.
His hands ascended up to my backside. He exhaled hard and ardently. “Ms. Brimm, at this moment you can have anything you ask. I am so caught up that control of my body has fleeted,” he said as he directed my attention to his soldier fighting for attention underneath the towel. When I looked back up his eyes were drunken with desire.