for what happened, Tino. But I’m so thankful you were there for me. I can’t even think of what might have happened if you hadn’t been.’ He took one last sip from the glass, then helped her to her feet and led her into the bathroom, where he planted himself in front of the shower.
He stood unmoving while she undressed him. He was erect as always, and she lingered to caress his balls and run a cupped palm over his thickness. The hard muscles just above his pubic curls tightened at her touch.
He watched while she undressed. His gaze on her made her feel sexy. It felt like a healing salve for what had happened. She took her time, loving the way his serious dark eyes locked on her breasts, her pubis, her face. Then she reached out her hand and pulled him into the shower.
She put her full concentration into bathing Tino, and somehow that made her feel immensely better. She soaped every crook, every exquisite crevice of her Pet’s delicious body. Tino was well-behaved except for the occasional shudder of delight or a growl or a nuzzle against her breast or bottom as she soaped and scrubbed.
His penis, very much at full attention, bobbed gently in front of her. She wondered how one man could possibly have so much stamina. He let her wash his hair and sculpt his dark pubic curls into soapy white mounds around his erection. He let her soap down the inside of his thighs past his knees to caress his calves and ankles as though she were rubbing down a fine stud. That was exactly what she was doing, she thought, soaping down the stud who had probably saved her life.
While she was kneeling, he pushed forward until his cock pressed against her cheek. Chuckling softly, she ran a soapy finger down his crack and slipped it into his anus, an act which made his cock surge. She took him into her hand and gently stroked the length of him lingering to kiss the helmeted tip. When she stood to scrub herself, she enjoyed the hungry way he watched as she soaped her breasts and her belly. Then she ran her fingers down over her mons and opened her pussy lips, pushing her hips forward to give him a good view while she washed herself.
Afterwards they both stood dripping on the mat while she towelled him dry, and he lapped droplets of water from her shoulders and breast and belly, working his way downward to her centre until she gave up and threw the towel on the edge of the tub.
‘Come to bed with me, Tino,’ she breathed. ‘I want you next to me tonight.’
She led him to the bedroom, then pulled back the duvet and settled in, the thirsty fabric of the sheets lapping up the last of the droplets from her back and butt. She patted the space next to her. He slipped in beside her then covered her with his body. He entered her without foreplay, with a gentle upward thrust. She sheathed him with amazingly little effort. Her body had become accustomed to the size of him, the shape of him, as though her pussy had somehow been remoulded, reformed so that it fit him perfectly. He barely moved, and yet each little shifting of his pelvis, each little rocking of his hips sent warm, trembling heat up through her body.
She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist in an effort to get closer to him. He was insider her. He couldn’t get any closer. She was overwhelmed by just how far insider her he really was. He shifted his weight to his knees and lifted his body just enough to run splayed hands up over her ribcage onto the swell of her breasts, caressing her nipples between thumbs and forefingers. Then he slid his hands up under her armpits and onto her biceps lifting her arms over her head. He held her wrists in one large hand while the other returned to caress her face, thumb moving across the flutter of her eyelid, down her cheek, over her parted lips.
The orgasm took them both by surprise. It came out of their lazy, sleepy, tender joining and shook both of them to their core. Stella watched Tino’s ecstatic face through misted eyes and
Gillian Doyle, Susan Leslie Liepitz