It was a very overt gesture. An invitation or maybe a request. They had set out their stall, it was now down to me, I realised that the ball was now very much in my court. I could move and they would presumably go away and no harm would be done. We could both ignore what had happened. Or I could stay still and invite the hands to go further. I was in a quandary, a conflict a confusion. Move or stay? Stop or go? Illicit pleasure or a moral stand? In the end, the decision was by default. I was still pondering, but the fingers must have assumed that my lack or reaction was acceptance and compliance, they presumably felt that I was accepting their invitation. Whilst one set of fingers remained resting on my erection the other took hold of the paper pants and slowly ripped them. They opened them up and they revealed my stunningly hard erection. There was no hesitation now for they were wrapped round it almost immediately. I pushed back against the fingers, I gave them my clear. “You’re beautiful, you know. Bend over a little so that I can have a better look at you.”She was still facing the wall and I pushed her upper body slightly forward so that she put her hands against the cool tiles to balance. I ran my right hand up her spine as the water from the shower head above pulses down.“Is this okay?” I asked.“Oh yes.” She was breathing heavily and pushing her butt back against me.While cupping her breasts with my hands, gently pinching and rolling her nipples, I kissed her all over her neck and back, having lost all resolve to contain myself—embracing your inner self, mindfulness gurus call it.Using my legs, I spread hers wider, thinking secretly how I would have taken her if I had been a man. Groaning and rubbing myself against her leg, pressing my swollen lips and clit against her cool, wet skin, I reached for her, my hand sliding over her cute belly and to her inner thighs. I bent down to run my tongue over her wetness, tasting the juices that were running.
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