Ambushed... but so nicely ambushed.
“Sit here and rest. I’ll be back in ten minutes or less, and I’ll see about putting another application of lotion on you before we get you dressed.” He kissed her again.
“I’ll be here, Malcolm.”
Seeing to her as he had, had taken a toll on him, and he was still overheated from everything he’d had to do for her. She hadn’t helped, by the way she had behaved, or how she had taken his hand, holding it on her breast as he’d applied that lotion across them. Her own feelings had been so obviously shown to him by that act, yet he had consistently tried to hold her at a distance, ‘for her own protection’… or so he’d argued with himself, as his resolve had been crumbling.
She watched him walk down the hallway and heard him start the shower.
She counted to sixty and got up to follow him.
If she didn’t succeed now, while they were alone, then it would only become more difficult once they left here.
Two minutes into his shower, he became aware that he wasn’t alone.
He’d known this was likely to happen, hearing the faint tinkling of her peeing in the toilet.
The very thought of her doing that, knowing she was here with him, and why, didn’t help. He’d controlled himself well, in front of her up to this point. When he hadn’t been able to control his body, he’d at least been sitting down, or was where she couldn’t see his problem, though she’d known about it, holding him by the top of his shorts to keep him close to her. He’d liked that feeling.
She’d known about his problem alright.
She would certainly know about it now, seeing him through that shower curtain. He was aroused… correction, he was blisteringly erect with anticipation for her, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it even if she was watching him.
She’d seen him like that before she’d let him know she was there.
He could clearly see her through the shower curtain as she stripped off a few sheets of toilet paper to pat herself dry between her legs. Seeing her do that, didn’t help, not after what he’d just been through, and with her tormenting him as she had.
Everything she did, or didn’t do, rattled his emotions around.
He’d been half afraid she might decide to join him in the shower, but at least she hadn’t got into the shower with him with that bandage on her hand, and just having had that lotion applied to her, or she would have done.
She’d had a lot or water to drink over the last few hours, and before that, she’d been lying out on the jetty. She hadn’t peed then, either, that he was aware of, and he would have noticed, but it was still a deliberate provocation on her part.
He put her being with him, watching him showering, out of his mind. There was nothing he could do about it, and he should have expected she would do that, just as he would have wanted to watch her showering, had the roles been reversed.
He continued what he was doing, trying to give it no further thought, and becoming resigned to her intentions for him, now that she was at the tormenting and ‘progressing’ stage of their relationship, after their open conversation, and the other things he had helped her with.
Once those analgesics had taken hold and she knew she would soon get over this, she had slowly rolled the big guns out. Opportunities like this, appeared but once in a lifetime.
He hadn’t helped by what he’d said, and done at different times.
‘We should marry.’
He’d played right into her hands with that one. He hadn’t been deliberately testing the water. He wanted to marry her, and he knew she must feel the same way about him.
The water was tepid, as he needed it, and it was refreshing to get the perspiration washed off his body as he stood there and thought about what he’d learned about her, and how his life had just changed again, and to hell with this other, far-too-obvious, personal problem he had, that he could do nothing about.
She was still sitting there when he’d finished, determined to change his life even more, now that she was mobile again and having learned everything she needed to know for the moment; how he’d never forgotten her... and what his intentions had been... and what his present intentions clearly had to be, for him to be like that.
He wouldn’t trust any of the towels in this house, but swept the water off his body with his hands once he’d turned off the shower.
She was the one who pulled the shower curtain aside (for all the good it had been, about hiding anything), looking at him defiantly, daring him to complain about lack of privacy, or of her being unusually curious about him and his body.
She was holding a towel for him, inviting him to step out of the shower, not giving him chance to argue about anything.
For dignity’s sake, he’d better submerge his embarrassment and accept her assistance.
He had one hand cupped over his balls, with the rest of that obvious part of his, not well hidden by his forearm.
It was too late to be like this now. She’d already seen him and knew all about him, so he removed his hand, determined not to give in to those other feelings. She would always get her way, so he’d better accept it.
“That’s better.” She approved.
He said nothing, striving to ignore her obvious, approving, attention; something that would be impossible to ignore as she reached out with that towel to dry him, using her one good hand. He stepped out into his sneakers, needing both hands to do that safely. The floors were none too clean either.
She was able to see all of him then.
She chuckled nervously, as any woman would, when confronted by that, for the first time. She was not tongue tied for long.
“I often wondered if I’d dare sneak into the shower with you one night after you’d got back from studying, and I tried to imagine what it would be like.” She now had a fair idea about that.
His mother wouldn’t have heard them over the sound of the shower. Or maybe she would have, with that thing going into her.
It had never happened.
He’d even waited for her while he’d showered, dreaming about her doing that too. Their minds had been together, even if nothing else had been.
She wouldn’t have to imagine what it would have been like for much longer. She was putting herself in charge now. He would try to resist what she intended for him, of course… he had too, of course, as he pleaded about ‘professionalism’, but the signs were good for her success. You didn’t sport one of those, if you didn’t feel anything for someone.
She tried not to giggle. There was one of these in the future of most women.
“Your mother was listening for anything like that happening, of course, so it never happened, but your mother isn’t here now to save us both.”
He’d better accept what she had in mind for him, and give in gracefully, if ever a man with an erection as obvious as his, could ever be graceful.
“Don’t worry about the towel. It’s clean. It’s one I brought with me.” The towel was the last thing he was going to worry about.
“So, at last we are naked together, you and I.” She was in one of those moods.
She smiled at him as she wiped over his chest and arms; touching nothing else for the moment, then turned him to do the same to his back with her one good hand.
He’d have to dry his own hair. That took two hands, and she couldn’t easily reach that high, though she tried, stepping closer to him, apparently not shy about anything, despite his obvious condition that she was responsible for.
And all of that was for her, and would very soon be pushing into her body.
What would it feel like going into her? Not much different from her own fingers, she imagined.
She’d almost commented upon that vision, as he’d stepped out of the shower, complimenting him upon it, though that might have sounded too flippant.
He’d been like that, aroused for her, a lot of the time he’d been working over her, unable to help himself, with her lying out naked, and inviting, in front of him, and as they’d talked, gaining a much-needed understanding of each other, face to face, for the first time ever.
He’d tried to conceal his condition from her, but it was not something that he could do much about in those shorts, and having given her his shirt, left somewhere in the kitchen.
With her naked in front of him, and so easily accessible, no wonder he’d been like that. She would have been aroused like that too. She was aroused, but not so obviously. Aroused… in another, different way. Internally, mentally.
If he knew how she felt at this moment?
He must know.
She let him take the towel from her to dry his own hair, no longer trying to hide himself.
She stepped back a little, able to see more of him there, now that both of his hands were occupied. She needed to see that part of him. Yes, she should be able to manage that. She hoped.
She took advantage of him doing his own hair with his arms out of her way, by stepping in, even closer, and putting her arms around him in a show of gratitude and affection.
She could manage that with her bandaged hand.