The light has changed in the room. It must be several hours since we made love, now early morning. I turn to look at you. You are asleep on your stomach, facing away from me. I resist the temptation to explore the smooth skin of your backside and let you sleep. I admire the play of light and shadow, the shape your body makes under the white coverlet. I just lay there silently for a couple of minutes, watching you sleep.
I am accustomed to rising early; I decide to let you rest as I walk naked to the bathroom. I close the door behind me, but do not latch it, not wanting to risk the noise. I shave again and brush my teeth, and start the shower. It is a big shower, tiled in some type of beige, polished stone, maybe limestone, in six-inch squares. It is a big shower, not a tub; with a large, chrome adjustable head and a six-inch ledge running around three sides about waist high. It is glass-walled, the kind where the door opens out instead of sliding over.
As I begin to lather up, my mind wanders back to our earlier interlude. I run through the scene in my mind, you and me in front of the mirror, the feel of you on top of me. I remember the changing expressions on your face, the chill that went through me as I wondered what you were thinking. Thinking about it now, wondering what else you might have done with me, I am not surprised to look down and see myself stiffening. My daydream is broken when I sense movement behind me.
You have come in wearing the same white robe I wore a few hours earlier, fresh from this same shower. You see me through the glass doors; you have caught me red-handed as it were. You smile. You slip off the robe and hang it on the hook on the back of the door. You stop to brush your teeth. You know I cannot resist watching you. I am now fully aroused.
You turn off the water and come to the shower door and open it. You stand there for a moment taking in the scene, looking at me naked and soapy and erect. You have that same look in your eye as before, deciding what to do. You step in and close the door behind you. I move to the back of the shower, let you get under the spray. You seem to be ignoring me for the moment. You wash your hair, your head thrown back. I watch you; water and shampoo cascade down your body, between your breasts, over your stomach, down your legs. You turn around to rinse off your face. I admire your long wet legs, the curve of your ass and back. God, I am so turned on.
You say nothing, but reach for the soap in my hand; our eyes meet. That look is in your eyes. You begin to soap yourself, starting with your arms, then shoulders. You spend a few seconds on each breast, your stomach. You are taking your time, enjoying the effect you are having on me. You hand me back the soap and turn around, wanting me to do your back. I nearly drop the soap. I start at your shoulder blades, work my way down. I am so hard now, I am dying to throw you down, take you. I have finished your back, now I make sure I have gotten all of your nooks and crannies clean.