In the Shower

Up to the bathroom. Brushing my teeth first, then carefully shaving two days of stubble. The menthol grit of toothpaste in my mouth; the rasping glide of the razor, flicking foam into the basin. Already thinking about you, about us and what we're going to do together - even though I'm alone in the house with only the idea of you.

Undressing, methodically. Folding my clothes. Conscious that every waiting minute raises my anticipation, my appetite for what's coming. Then into the shower, stepping under the hot water and pulling the glass door closed. The steam rising, hiding whatever happens next. A secret that I want to share, that you already know, that we're both longing for.

Once I'm wet, self-consciously cleaning my bum first. A soapy finger teasing along the crack, probing and eventually exploring the darkness. The way my cock elongates and swells at this unexpected, delicious invasion. More soap and back in, deeper this time. Then a squirt of that white cream, before easing in your toy. The rounded head, the ridged shaft, the muscle closing around the neck. Five thick inches of plastic, gripped firmly inside me. Moaning a little already - that feeling of fullness but also somehow of being held, as if having you there turns me inside out. So conscious of you. My mistress, my lover, my bitch.

Back to the job in hand. Washing the rest of my body, the idea of you with me stronger than ever. My cock hanging thickly, my balls swinging as I bend down for the soap. Lathering and rinsing my hair, my chest, my arms, my legs. Closing my eyes under the stream of water, confused as to who's really touching me.

Working on my balls and cock, slowly. The way I know you'd linger, even expect me to ask for it. Fingers brushing, then taking hold. My breath catching as I ease back the skin, stretched so tight. The liquid swirl of my thumb or your tongue around the head. My sack heavy, aching.

My hand coming back to your toy lodged inside me, pressing behind my balls. Pushing it, twisting it, fucking myself with it. The stretching, the electric contact against hidden nerves. My mouth open, moaning gently.

Then touching my cock again, imagining you behind me. Your breasts pressed damply into my back, an arm around my waist. Taking me, owning me. Your cock, yours to play with. You've told me how we'd fuck like this, in the shower. Both ways, me in you and you in me. That fantasy where we finger each other while kissing openmouthed. The other where I kneel and you stand imperiously, your perfect cunt held open to piss on my cock, my chest, my face. The taste of you.

Everything so real in my mind, so intense. I'd originally planned to get out and carry this on in bed, perhaps even with the camera, but I can feel everything racing out of control. All that edging to your old pictures, downstairs last night. All day I've thought about them, about you. The black stockings, the smudge of your nipples, that crystal in your mouth. The tension in your inner thighs, the luscious weight of your breasts. The continuous, dull ache of my longing for you.

And now the narrow frontier again, the confusion between my hand on me and your toy in me. Like they're the same thing, the same sensation building and building.

Knowing that my resolve is long gone, that I'm going to come here in the shower. Hard and helplessly, for you. Ashamed, overjoyed. Guilty, jubilant.

My right hand sliding the length of my cock, twisting wetly around my glans. My bum stretched open and stuffed full. I so love what you do to me.

Already whispering your name, under my breath. Telling you I'm coming for you, asking for your permission. Begging you, darling.

That you'll let me come in my hand, so I can do what we both want afterwards. Licking up my mess for you, after I've fucked myself for you. And thanking you for every loving minute of it.

Moaning uncontrollably now, your name again and again. The pressure inside me, the almost pain. My foreskin pulled back from the swollen head, my arsehole clenching greasily around your toy.

And then the release. So slow, my cock spurting into the cupped palm of my hand. One, two, three, four. Thick and white, mixing with the water running down my arm. My love, emptied out for you.

Yours, all yours. About to be mine.