“But…”
“If you touch me, this won’t go like I want it to. Your hands on my body are guaranteed to make me lose control, and that’s not what I want, not tonight. Now, go and wait for me.”
I want to pout, but his words have me too excited. I’m practically walking on air when I go back to the bed. He undresses, and I shamelessly watch him wash off. I’ve been halfway in love with Max since I first read his story. I may only get this one night with him, and I have to accept that. My night with him is a moment out of time. One that shouldn’t happen, but one I will cherish until I’m old and gray. I can’t pull my eyes away from him as he sponge bathes himself. When he washes his cock, and I watch him take himself into his hands, my body flushes hot. Moisture gathers between my legs and I’m dying to have him. I want to cry out in disappointment when he covers himself up with a pair of jogging pants he pulls out of the satchel he brought back from his uncle’s.
Once he empties the basin the turns to me.
“Come here, Tess.”
Three words. Three words that are so simple, but they are words that I’ve imagined this man saying for months. It seems surreal. If I only get tonight, it will have been more than worth it. I go to him, willingly. I go to him, eager.
He grabs the collar of my shirt and pulls. Buttons, pop and scatter through the room. My body jumps, but my eyes never leave his intense stare. He takes the shirt from my body and throws it on the floor. I look down at it and then back up to him.
“Umm…what am I supposed to wear tomorrow?”
“Let’s just worry about tonight right now, Kitten.”
I moisten my lips and nod my approval. That seems to be what he was looking for because he unlatches the clasp between my breasts and my bra releases. It soon joins my ruined shirt. Heat infuses my face, I can feel it, but I don’t look away.
“You’re beautiful, Tess. So fucking beautiful.”
It doesn’t matter that I don’t agree with him. Right now, standing in front of him I feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. He unlatches my pants, and they drop to the ground, leaving me standing in front of him in nothing but my panties. He slides those off too, and now I’m naked, wondering what he’s going to do next. I don’t have long to wait.
“Bend over the basin, sweetheart. I want to wash that beautiful hair of yours.”
I’m twenty-seven years old, and I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone wash my hair, and that’s a damn shame because as Max starts using his strong hands to tenderly wash my hair I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. Once he’s done, he wraps my hair in a towel and begins washing my body.
His hands move so slowly, so tenderly over me, washing me in a way that it feels like he’s worshipping me. When he cups my pussy, I moan. He’s already touched and caressed me to the point that my body feels like it is on pins and needles. I’m so close to the edge that when he holds my center like that, it’s almost enough to send me, hurling into an orgasm. I manage to keep that from happening, but it’s close. He takes the bar of soap; dropping it into the water and then lathering it in his hands. My eyes are glued to his movements. Even so, I’m not prepared when he slides the soap between my folds and lets the soap rub and tease against my opening and then my clit. He pushes it up so that I could almost ride it, before taking it away.
I cry in disappointment. As he uses a cloth and fresh water to wash me clean.
“Max…”
“What’s wrong, sweetheart.”
“I need…”
“What do you need?”
“Make me….make me come, please.”