Lazy Weekend - Book 1 - Sex Stories

Lazy Weekend - Book 1

... of the bathroom. Slowly, after sliding the door to the balcony shut, he made his way to the bathroom and discovered the door was left ajar. Upon stepping into the bath cubical, he had already stripped down to his birthday suit and his manhood was at attention in anticipation. Not that he expected bathroom pleasure, but the figure right before him under the shower was nothing but stunning. Her skin was a slight shade darker at her neck, arms and legs where the sun never left it, and her back was lighter in tone. Below the small of her back, it was almost perfectly rounded, toned and sculptured from the days they did lunges, squats and runs together in the university’s park. Her long black hair seemed darker as the water cascaded down. Her thighs just below her butt had a slight hint of the so-called orange-peel but it was not obvious, barely noticeable. Imperfect perfection, he thought. “Join me,” she whispered, as if she sensed his presence. He stepped in closer and joined her under the cascading water, soaking every inch of his skin. He rubbed the bar of soap in his hand and applied the slippery substance to her shoulder as she moved her hair across her right shoulder and down her chest. He began to slowly massage her shoulders; they felt so tight and tense. She breathed out, enjoying the sensation of his thumbs gliding across her shoulders. He then ran his thumbs down the sides of her spine, right to the small of her back, applying pressure to it, then doing the same as ...

... he ran his thumbs back up to her neck. He felt the fine hairs on her back that everyone had. hers were very fine but evident to touch. Some men were extremely fussy. Not him. Imperfect perfection. She breathed out again. After doing the massage technique a few times, he came closer to her, applied more soap and eased the tension in her shoulders again. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six circular motions with his thumbs. His hands glided down her chest slowly, then closer to her breasts. He cupped them and massaged them slowly in circular motion. They were firm yet soft. Her nipples hard. Maybe from the water cascading down; maybe from his touch; maybe from anticipation; maybe from the massage; maybe from all of those things. She didn’t stop him. Slowly, his hands went further down to her belly, drawing circles on it, as if he could paint an abstract art of them in the shower, of the moment. He snuggled his head on her neck gently, and then turned and kissed it. It sent a tingle down her spine as his lips touched. She was drowning in the moment of it, savouring the sensations. “May I?” he asked, letting his fingers trace lines further down below her belly button to the triangle of hair that existed naturally down south. “Hmm…” She whimpered, and a shiver of excitement coursed through her body. Her pubic hair was combed as his fingers raked through them. Slowly reaching her womanhood that was now drenched with water and moisten by her essence. Unshaven. Not waxed, not trimmed. ...