"Nope. Wear that pair of black...what did you call them? Your 'fuck-me' pumps?"
Joy laughed out loud now, her fit of jealous rage forgotten. "Okay, fine. Fuck-me pumps it is. Let me go so I can start getting ready, " she replied. They said their goodbyes and Joy tapped the 'end call' icon on her phone. Whatever he had planned, Rich was definitely sure of himself. Her interest thoroughly piqued, Joy considered what might be in store for her at evening's end. Whatever it was, she knew how it was going to begin – she needed a shower.
She turned the knob for the hot water in the shower full blast and began to unbutton the royal blue blouse she'd worn to work. She stood in front of the mirror as she did, her reflection revealing her modest cleavage and the clasp of her bra at its center. Further down, her fingers working nimbly but unhurried as she reached her waist, pulling her shirttail out and shrugging it off her shoulders. She reached back and gently tugged at the zipper of her grey pencil skirt. It slipped down her hips to reveal panties patterned in cranberry and gold. These too quickly whispered to the floor, landing in a puddle on top of the skirt. She tested the shower, yanking her hand back quickly from the heat. She added cold water to the spray, tested again. Finally satisfied with the temperature, her hands returned to her chest and smoothly unclasped her bra. She glanced at the mirror again – the mirror-Joy's breasts now uncovered, her rose-colored nipples visible in the steam-hazed glass. She reached up, cupped them in her hands, and tested their weight. She smiled, satisfied with mirror-Joy's goods, pushed back the pale yellow shower curtain, and stepped under the spray.
Hands placed over her face as she tilted her head into the water's path, the shower rained down on Joy's hair, saturating it, pouring over her head. She reached up, slicking it back with her fingers. She squirted a small amount of her very expensive salon-bought shampoo into her cupped palm and began to twirl it through her hair. As she massaged the soap into her scalp, her thoughts again turned to what Rich's scheme was for the night. If he wanted her to look like a sex goddess, they were obviously going somewhere very sexy. And he said he wanted her to be noticeably sexy, which meant he wanted her visible. Were they going to some sort of party? An exclusive nightclub of some kind? Why was he so insistent that she should be dressed to kill? A thrill raced through her as she thought of the possibility of being shown off at some celebrity-hosted bash in the city, paparazzi snapping pictures of famous people around her. And then of her and Rich together. And then just of her. "Joy, over here! Joy, this way! Joy, who are you wearing?" She felt a gentle tug somewhere in her belly, the thought of being a star turning her on.
She turned away from the shower nozzle and let the water pound on the back of her neck, returning to her fantasy. She pictured herself sipping champagne, tittering at the joke of some handsome, award-winning actor, all the while wearing an extremely brief dress and four inch heels. She grabbed her shower gel and sponge, and began to smooth the soap over her skin. She lathered over her arms and shoulders, sliding across her upper chest. She almost gasped aloud when she brushed the sponge over her chest, her nipples stiff and aching. She slipped her free hand across her breast, and the desire that had started somewhere behind her navel had moved south. She began to caress her breast with one hand, pinching and tugging at the nipple. Her other hand, still holding the sponge, was absently circling her lower belly, dipping lower, lower. She was completely enveloped in her fantasy, shower forgotten.
Joy dropped the sponge to the shower's floor, her fingers now glancing over her well-moistened cleft. Her fingers sought out and found her labia, gently stroking the tiny nub of her growing clitoris out of its hood. She turned around to face the shower now, biting her lower lip as the spray landed full force on her breasts' erect peaks. She stepped up with one foot on the ledge of the shower, opening her thighs and giving the shower spray full access to her sex. She stretched her labia up and back, exposing her clit and pussy, gasping with pleasure as the water pounded down on her most sensitive spots. Her legs began to quiver, her breath quickening as the pressure built in her womb. Just as she felt herself teetering on the edge of her climax, she grabbed the hot water handle and twisted it hard clockwise.
The water turned from comfortably warm to frigid almost instantaneously, and she gasped loudly, arms wrapped around her breasts, forcing herself to stand there under the icy cascade for a ten-count. As the promise of her orgasm retreated unfulfilled, she side-stepped the spray and turned the cold-water handle off. "There. That should do it," she thought as she panted, shivering. The faucet continued to drip for a moment longer, and then the only sounds were the water draining and her own labored breathing. Joy's body was aching for release, but bringing herself so close to climax and then stopping it cold (literally, in this case) would ensure that she would be as sexually charged tonight as possible. Rich had really talked up this date, and she wanted to be on a razor-thin wire between impulse and ecstasy for him all night long.
Chapter 3 will be coming soon - PLEASE submit feedback and vote!
