He licked his bottom lip as he removed his belt and draped it over his shirt. Then he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. He slid off his shoes and the pants with them. No awkwardness at all. His socks followed, way too easily. Just a lift of a foot and a gentle flick sent them sailing to the floor.
He’s so fucking smooth. If I tried that move I would’ve tripped and fallen on my face. Not him. He’s like a sex-charged Lord of the Dance. Fucking graceful. Tommy Two-Tone, the giant cock swinging ballerina.
His dick was pressed up in his briefs, flat against his body, but I could see the outline of him and it looked like the head was threatening to peek out of the waistband.
“I’m not afraid of you, Mandy,” he said. “And you shouldn’t be afraid of me.”
I could practically feel myself nodding, urging him on, as he pulled his waistband over the head of his cock and slid his briefs off his body. His dick bobbed a couple of times as gravity tried to suck him off the way I had only minutes before.
Get your own dick, Mother Nature! This one’s mine.
“I’m not afraid of you,” I said.
And I wasn’t. Not anymore. The fear seemed to have run out with my pussy juices and soaked into my panties. Panties that needed to come off. I held the table with one hand, because I’m definitely not smooth enough to pull off the Wesley shuffle, slid off my shoes. My panties came down next. I was proud when they slid down my legs and I was able to kick them off easily.
“I want you to wash me first,” Wesley said, “So you feel more comfortable.”
“Okay.”
That was all I could think to say. My mind was numb and it wasn’t the alcohol anymore. My thoughts were frozen, like I’d been powdered with some strange sort of magic dust that made me think only of sex.
“This is how we do it,” he said as he walked over to the counter next to the bed and opened a box that looked kind of like a large Saran wrap dispenser.
He pulled a long, plastic cover out of it, almost like you’d wear on your head at a beauty salon. Then he tucked the fitted ends around the two corners at one end of the table and asked me to do the same on the other side. We now had a clean, fresh tabletop.
He pulled open one of the drawers on the counter. I couldn’t see what was inside from where I was standing, but I couldn’t wait to find out. Then he handed me a brass gun-like thing with a hose running from it over to the sink. He turned on the sink faucet.
“You’ll find the tools you need in that drawer, and the water is already on and waiting for you. Look in the basket beneath the table for anything else you might need.”
He climbed onto the bed and lay back, his cock more than halfway hard, threatening to slump over onto his thigh.
My God. I’m standing in a room with a ridiculously hot man who has handed me all the tools I need to have my way with him. This is the stuff dreams are made of.
I didn’t know where to begin. How do you start a body wash? It should be simple but until you’re in that position, you don’t understand how perplexing it can be. I mean, do you start at his toes? Do you go straight for the cock? Do you scrub down his chest? I didn’t expect to feel so stupid, so inadequate? I felt like I needed a manual or something. I’d had shower sex plenty of times, but this was so different.
“This will be more erotic with the lights off,” he said, “And maybe with some music playing.”
He was right. It was way too fucking bright in the room and the fact that he could see all my silly expressions as I lathered him up made me a bit shy.
“The switches are on the wall,” he added. “One turns off the lights. One turns on the candles. One turns on the music,” he said.
I draped my water nozzle over the basket below the bed and walked over to the switches. I turned off the first one, plunging us into darkness. I considered feeling my way through this experiment but was afraid I’d trip and break my neck. So I flipped on the second one. It was magical. Candles lit up from places I hadn’t realized there were any. The light was soft, keeping the room mostly in shadows. Then I turned on the third switch.
Gregorian chants. Sadness by Enigma.
Seriously? Of all the songs to choose from.
“Wow, you’re really keeping with this ‘90s reunion theme, aren’t you?” I joked.
He laughed.
“Purely coincidence.”
“Right.”
It was finally time to get to work. I walked back to Wesley, picked up the hose, and shot it at him. I didn’t mean to blast him in the face. It was supposed to come out soft and shower-like, but instead it was more like I was welcoming him on his first day in prison.
“Shit!” he yelled.
“I’m so sorry,” I said between giggles. “That was not sexy.”
“Definitely not.”
I aimed the nozzle at the floor until the stream was how I wanted it. It was so warm. Lovely.
His face was hidden in the shadows and that made the whole ordeal easier as I started at his chest, raining warm water down over his pecs. I used my hand to wipe the water around, running my fingernails through the thick, defined lines separating the muscles on his stomach.
“The soap is in the basket,” he told me.
“Shut up,” I replied as I leaned down to kiss him. “I’m in charge here.”
His tongue was sweet as I sucked on it, and I was already tempted to climb onto the table and take him. I didn’t care about the body wash. I wanted to fuck Wesley. All this other stuff was just added fun, but the real prize was the cock I hoped was growing with my kiss. I ran my fingernails down his stomach and over his midsection until I found him there, stiff as could be, waiting for me.
“Wesley,” I said. “Take me.”
He rolled off the bed and reached for the bottom of my dress. I set down the nozzle and he pulled my dress over my head. I didn’t do a thing to stop him. I was comfortable in the candlelight. I was comfortable with him.
Through the faint glow, I got an eyeful of his slick ass as he walked to the counter, folded up my dress and placed it there neatly for me. I removed my own bra and handed it to him. I was ready now.
I haven’t been fucked in forever. Just fuck me. Please remind me that I’m a woman. Make me feel wanted. Make me feel cherished. Make me come.
He made his way over to me and put his hands around my waist. His cock nudged my stomach and I pressed in harder, making sure he knew that I wanted it to touch me. I wanted it to be inside me. He moved closer and his chest touched my erect nipples.
Something about the way we both stood out in the open, naked for the first time in front of each other, like we’d been like this a thousand times, was extremely sensual. My breath caught in my throat, my stomach fluttered, and my pussy ached. He adjusted his stance slightly and his chest dragged across my tits. My legs quivered. I was so fucking horny.
With his mouth only an inch from my ear he whispered, “Mandy, you have no idea how badly I want to fuck you right now. But what would that be but another sexual encounter for us both?”
“Yes,” I said, probably too eagerly.
Yes, a sexual encounter is quite alright by me. Let’s do the sexual encounter.
“I brought you here for a reason. Do you trust me now?” he said.
“Mmm hmm,” I said with a nod.
“Good.”
With that, he took my hand and helped me up onto the table, where he lay me down gently.
“Can’t we just…”
He put a finger to my lips.
“Trust me,” he said.
Then he lowered his face down between my legs and planted a soft kiss on my clit.
Holy shit.
I’ve had men go down on me and I’ve had men lick me till I thought I’d lose my mind, but for the life of me I couldn’t remember ever having one kiss me on my clit like that. It was…dare I say, romantic? He kissed my clit like he wanted to tell it he loved it and would return for it later.
And my clit was thinking, “Goodbye?
Like, where are you going? You will return quickly, won’t you?”
He turned to the drawer and retrieved something out of it. Then, with the nozzle raised up, he said, “Close your eyes. Just relax.”
So I did.
When the water touched my body I felt a jolt run through my limbs. Goosebumps rose on my skin and my legs opened up. The feeling was intense. This wasn’t a normal shower. This was a man I wanted, needed, caressing my body with waves of wet passion.
“Are you allergic to coconut milk?” he asked.
“No.”
My eyes peeked open a bit when I felt something else. He was squirting liquid soap onto my body from some sort of bottle. The sweet, sexy aroma of coconut filled the air. This was a smell I associated with oiled up beach bodies and piña coladas. It always kind of turned me on.
Then his hand smoothed over me, lathering me up, but it was more than that. His fingers massaged the spot between my stomach and my pussy, a spot I’d never thought to be so erogenous. Strong fingertips moved down to my bikini line and the tender area between my thighs, never quite touching my pussy lips, but sliding close enough to make my heart flutter.
In what I can only imagine as a diamond shape, he brought his hands almost together, leaving his fingers in the creases between my thighs and pussy while resting his thumbs on the spot just above my clit. His index fingers walked over and pressed so close to my lips.
Hoa. Oh, yes.
A sound escaped my lips that was somewhere between a grunt and a yelp. He breathed deep and I opened my eyes to see his cock there near my ribcage. I wanted to reach out and grab it, to lather it up, but his hands were so fucking magical that I didn’t want to fuck up the moment.
His face was so close to my pussy and I silently begged for him to climb over me, straddle me, and bury his face in me. Sixty-nine had never sounded so fine. His fingers pried my pussy open just slightly and for a second I thought he might actually do it. He was going to taste my water-drenched pussy.
He didn’t. Instead, he moved up the center of my stomach and stopped below my right tit, where his fingernails softly scraped the crescent shape, running along the form of my breast.
Warm water continued to run over me from the nozzle in his other hand. No, it wasn’t warm water. It was hot, but never enough to scald, only intense enough to drive me crazy.
His hand worked its way around my tit, sliding easily over my now soapy and slippery nipples. With masterful fingers, he didn’t quite pinch my nipple, but he squeezed ever so softly. I wanted to scream.
“Oh my God,” I said. “That…yes, like that.”
His face was too hidden in the dark for me to see his expression but I imagined he must’ve been grinning. He was totally in control now. I would let him do whatever he wanted with me.
His firm grip massaged my tit, giving it so much fucking attention, attention it had never gotten from any man, not like this. This wasn’t a quick nipple licking or motorboating, this was…this…I’d died and gone to tit-loving heaven.
When his hand moved to my left tit and repeated everything I’d felt before, I bucked my hips. I didn’t mean to, but my pussy was craving that attention. His cock could enter me and his hands could still do what they were doing. Right? Why wasn’t he giving it to me?
Fuck!
His hand disappeared for a second and I thought I’d cry. Then something new. Something different. A unique feeling that tickled between my thigh and my pussy. It was light but it was strong. It was fucking unbelievable. I lifted my head and strained to see what was going on.
A paintbrush. He was painting soap onto the spot next to my pussy with a paintbrush.
Genius!
“Oh fuck!” I said.
“Your body is a masterpiece, Mandy,” he said. “I’ve always seen you that way.”
Always careful not to get soap anywhere near my actual pussy opening, he danced along the edges, setting my insides on fire. I wanted to laugh and cry and scream but all I could do was bite my lip and pray that he’d keep fucking going.
He slid the paintbrush down my thigh and lifted my right leg, resting it on his shoulder, where he smoothed the brush over the back of my knee. My leg jerked and my pussy dripped. The air from the room hit me dead on and felt cool until his other hand ran the water between my legs, dousing my pussy with hot water. It was intense.
He brought the water up to wash over my knee and then kissed me there, planting his lips on the back of my knee. His tongue slipped out from between his lips and caressed me. With my leg lifted straight up, he lowered his mouth, licking me slowly, till he was all the way down at my ass.
I heard the clang of the brush being dropped into the basket and then his hand was on me again, this time right at my pussy, dragging something kind of rough over me. It nudged at my clit.
“Ohh…ohhh,” I moaned.
That feels nice. That feels fucking great. Do that.
I reached down to touch what it was between my legs. A loofah. He was gently running a loofah up my pussy, tickling my lips and clit, the rough material not strong enough to hurt or bother, but enough to set me on edge. I lifted my ass up again, trying to put my pussy closer to his face, but he wasn’t ready for me yet, or so it seemed.
He brought the loofah up my stomach and wiped it through the remaining soap. Back to my tits.
Yes, don’t forget about my tits. The girls wanna play too. But keep the water on…yes!
He read my mind and aimed the spray of the water right at my clit.
“Fuck!” I yelled as the stream caught me just right, like a tongue flicking at my clit. The spray pushed my clit away, then returned, pushed it away, then returned…the water darting at my pussy, fucking me.
At the same time, the loofah ran over my tits, scraping my nipples, teasing me.
I need to fuck. I need to fuck. Oh how I need to fuck.
“Fuck me!” I yelled. “Please, Wesley, I can’t take it anymore.”
“Not yet,” he said. “This is your body wash.”
“Fuck the body wash!”
He laughed.
“If that’s how you feel, then it’s working,” he said.
He tossed the loofah away and rushed to me, kissing me hard. I attacked him, eating his mouth while I searched ravenously for his cock. I found it and fisted it, trying to make him want me as much as I wanted him. I was in a frenzy. I needed to fuck him. I’d never in my life, not even at the carnival, been turned on like this.
“Fuck me,” I begged.
Thinking back, it’s fucking embarrassing how badly I wanted him. I pleaded for it. I may have even clasped my hands together and begged.
“Fuck me. Just fuck me,” I said.
I felt like a fiend, urging him to put his cock in me. He kissed me roughly, pulling my hair back with his fist, tearing into my neck with his tongue, but then pulled away as quickly as he’d started.
“What? What is it?” I asked.
“Not yet.”
For fuck’s sake! Are you crazy?
“Just wait. You’re gonna like this next part,” he promised.
In the faint candlelight, I saw him pick up a small squeegee, like the kind used to wipe the water off of windows. He cleaned the water from my chest with it and worked it around my tits, sliding the water away from my body. He sprayed some more to take off the soap, and then squeegeed it off.
The hard tool slid over my nipples and it kind of hurt, but I liked it.
He worked his way down my stomach and down my legs, getting rid of the water with ease. He’d done this before and I wondered if he spent his free time here at his business pleasuring clients, or if he was often pleasured by his employees, or if he was the trainer of the employees. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing. I loved it.
With the water off my body, I prepared to be royally fucked. But I wasn’t. At least not by Wesley, not yet.
“What the fuck is that?” I asked as he pulled a new device out of his drawer.
It
was an electric fucking toothbrush.
Oh hell no!
He put a new, clean attachment on the end, but then took it one step further and ripped a condom package open and slid it over the toothbrush.
I wondered why he wouldn’t go for a vibrator. I guess it kind of stuck with the whole body wash theme?
Slippery When Wet (A Romance Novella): Maybe Mandy 3 Page 8