Squeaky Clean

She’s been in the shower an inordinate amount of time.

You busy yourself tidying the apartment, the tv on for background noise, and think back on the last few hours. After work and working out, she met you right out of the shower with dinner and a kiss. She wrapped her around you and you felt clean and warm. You smile at the memory of her breasts pressed against your chest, how her lips tightened when she smiled while she kissed you, the smell of her hair, and how she tilts her face up to you like a flower turning to the sun. The whole package is worth waiting through a half hour shower, because you know what happens when you are both squeaky clean. All the accumulated grime of the day is washed away and you both smell fresh, warm, she of coconut and you of your aftershave.

Your warm smile turns into a devilish grin as you put some scattered books on the shelf again and imagine what’s going to happen when she finally emerges, dripping hair and hot skin, from her cleanse. You turn around to find something else to tidy and there she is, watching you, loving you, appreciating that you put out the effort to keep your shared home neat and clean. You’re still nesting. It’s your first apartment together and you’ll remember it forever. You always remember your first.

She grins with pride as you look her up and down, appreciating the curve of her waist and the swell of her breasts as she stand nude before you, all yours, with a fiery sparkle in her eye. A moment’s silent looking and you come together, hugging and kissing and touching each other with love and fondness and affection and lust all spiraling like a big delicious milkshake just waiting to be tasted. Speaking of….

In the bedroom under the covers a familiar scene plays out, comfortable as old shoes, sweet and new as fresh strawberries. Your hands play over her skin, teasing her nipples hard, raising goosebumps on her arms, brushing gently past her hips, finding all the places you know she loves caressed. She rewards you with little sighs and moans and hushed cries of pleasure. Her hands instinctively reach for the rapidly growing evidence of your desire. Just the feel of it in her hand always arouses her and gives her focus behind her half closed eyes.

You slide yourself down the length of her as you move your face to where you can kiss her sweet lips. You use your tongue to draw even greater gasps from her. Her hips begin thrusting, her breath comes faster, she gets louder and softer by turns. The gasps jumble with words as she is whisked away into some kind of alternate reality where her body is a million coiled springs, it’s pricked by a thousand needles, muscles move independent of thought.

“I need you… I need you with me” come the first distinct words in some time. With her wet sweetness around your mouth you move up to kiss her, sharing the salty sweet taste as the two of you meet. First contact. Shivers. Tight and slick you find yourself moving against her as she arched into you. Now she’s on her belly and you press your hips into the round firmness of her butt. You reach around to cup her breast as she reaches down to touch herself, adding to the intoxication of making love. It’s so wet there’s nearly no friction, only the pressure of you against her, parting and meeting again smoothly, building intensity. She is thrusting back into you. You can feel her fingers almost frantic on herself as she gets closer and closer to her climax. You hold back, partly to prolong your own orgasm and partly to help her find one, too. The second stretch into minutes of heavy breath, hands gripping the bedsheets, shower wet hair tangling in passion and heat.

It’s too much. The sight and sound and feel of such raw, familiar, lust filled activity is too much and to the sounds of her ecstasy you reach a climax. You are lost in her. You are safe with her. A last few sensational thrusts together and motion slows, then nearly stops. She is slowing down with her hands, releasing the tension. She asks you to stay lying there, a comforting warm weight on top of her as you both begin to cool off. Though you’re tired from the last twenty minutes you stay. Because you care. Because it feels good. Because she asked you to.

As your breath returns to normal and the less glamorous aftermath of the evening is taken care of, the comfort of her presence is warming. You know she can’t stay. You know things will take her from you from time to time, but for now, in the afterglow, you cuddle together silently, lovingly, and think of nothing.