Just a Wolf

Amelia

His hand is on me again, waking me up, rubbing very lightly, and I moan while I’m still half asleep. When my eyes open I see that it is barely dawn, a pale silvery light coming in through my high windows. His hand starts slipping down further, pushing harder, and I press myself closer to him, gasping.

Oh yeah? Two can play that game.

I move my hand down as well, and am surprised at how enormous and hard his dick is already. Does he just live in this condition? That must be so distracting. It must be very hard to be a guy. So to speak.

While he is rubbing me, I am stroking him, and we are writhing together under the covers. When I feel the thin layer of sweat burst out all over his skin I know he is about to come, but so am I, and we clutch each other as we ride the amazing wave together.

It’s only afterwards that I realize that we forgot to grab the box of tissue.

There is something cooling and sticky on my stomach, and I realize that it must be from him. He realizes too, and whispers, “I’m so sorry.” I think he’s embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” I tell him. I don’t mind, how can I be mad about something that is just a part of him? “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s natural, right?”

“But gross,” he groans. “Can I help you clean up?” He reaches across me to the tissue box, and empties it out grabbing some, and starts mopping me up.

“Here,” I say, taking the tissue from him. “Don’t worry about it.” I kiss him to reassure him that I’m not mad or grossed out. I can feel that he is worried.

I distract him with a few minutes of kissing. He murmurs against my lips, “I have to go upstairs and take a shower. And pack, I guess.” He sighs. “Will I see you at breakfast?”

I pause for a second. “Don’t go upstairs.”

He leans back and looks at me. “I have a shower,” I point out.

“Oh! Can I use your shower?” he says, sounding surprised.

“Mm-hmm. But I have to shower too,” I say, indicating the stickiness on my stomach. “Would you mind, uh, sharing?” I don’t know if this would be too much of an invasion of his privacy.

But his eyes light up like I’ve just offered him the best thing he can think of. “Just give me a second to pee first?” he asks.

“Okay, then me.”

After we take turns in there alone to use the toilet, we join each other in my little shower stall. I would have thought I’d be embarrassed to have him see me just standing here completely naked, but after everything else we’ve done, this feels perfectly comfortable. Besides, we’re too close together in here to really be able to get a good look at anything.

We dodge around the spray of water while it is warming up, giggling and yelping until it stops being icy cold. When the water is hot, I nudge him over to stand in it, then I get my hands all soapy and grin up at him. “Let me help you,” I say, and enjoy his delighted expression when I start rubbing my soapy hands on his chest.

But then I’m not looking at his face any more. My hands are rubbing along his smooth, dark skin, watching the contrast with the white bubbles, and I’m exploring every nook and cranny, the muscles, the indentations, the tufts of hair. I spin him around to get his back, enjoying the muscles and beautiful skin back here as well. When my hands are low enough to actually grab his butt and start soaping that up, his hands dart out and lean against the wall, like he needs to brace himself to prevent falling. My hands slip around to the front, because of course I have to be diligent in washing everywhere, and he moans when I find his dick, and goodness gracious that thing is hard again. Sticking straight out in front of him. I wonder briefly how the physics of this works, and how that must feel to him to be poking out into the air like an unfinished bridge, but I’ll bet he wouldn’t really appreciate having to give a lecture about that right now.

I soap up my hands again, and start washing him there, and under, feeling the soft pouches beneath his dick, and the hair all around. When I get back to his dick to wash that he groans and ducks his head and clutches the wall, quivering. I wrap my hand around him, and start stroking back and forth on him, up and down. I am behind him, pressed up against his back, and I feel all his muscles clenching again, and he is gasping, and I can’t feel the sweat because he is under the shower, but I’m sure it’s there.

He makes the strangled noise which I recognize means he’s coming, and I feel his dick pulsing in my hand, and I peek around his back to watch as a white fluid comes squirting out the tip, once, twice, three times. It’s completely fascinating, and it makes me horny to realize how good he is feeling right now.

When it’s done he collapses a little against the shower wall, and I move around him to get in front and wrap my arms around him, pressing my face to his chest, feeling the water pouring down over both of us.

Good thing the packhouse has a huge water heater, otherwise we’d be using up everyone’s hot water right now.

When he has caught his breath, he says, “My turn.”

Mmmmm.

He does the same to me, soaping up his hands, washing me everywhere, and I love the feeling of his hands smoothing over my skin. When his hand reaches my lady parts, and he is rubbing me there, and I am tensing up and gasping and moaning, I feel one of his fingers slip just a little bit inside me, just the tiniest bit, not even halfway as far as a tampon would go, but it makes me explode. I am shrieking, the sound echoing around the bathroom, and my eyes are closed with stars bursting out behind my eyelids, and if he wasn’t holding me up with his other strong arm I’d be falling to the floor of the shower right now.

He holds me until I am calm again.

We wash each other’s hair, and while he is bending down so I can reach his head, I laugh about how he is going to smell like my shampoo all day. “I like it,” he says, “I’m glad I’ll be smelling like you.” When we are all done with the business, we spend some time still under the warm water running down, sucking on each other’s necks, on the almost-marks there.

Four days, four nights, so we have to make this last.