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This is a sequel to the short story, “In Ms. B’s Bunk“.

“Do you really have to leave?”

Her head peeked around the shower curtain and she smiled at me, her eyes still heavy-lidded from lack of sleep. Her bed-tousled hair was sexy and I wanted to run my hands through it, pulling her close again, feeling her lips on mine. But the drive was a long one, and I was late getting started as it was.

“Unfortunately,” I replied, closing my eyes and tipping my face into the spray, letting the hot water soak my hair and wash the sleep out of my foggy, fuzzy brain. The curtain fell back into place with a wet whisper and I heard the splash of her feet on the tub floor behind me. In an instant, her arms were around me, holding me close, her soft, warm body pressed tightly to mine.

Her hands flitted over my skin, cupping my breasts and tugging gently at the nipples that had grown hard at the sound of her voice. My body had already learned how to respond to her, trained over hours of touching, stroking and kneading. I melted into her, unable and unwilling to resist the touch of her bare skin on mine. Her lips were soft on my shoulder, kissing me in a trail soft as butterfly footprints to my neck, to the sensitive spot behind my earlobe that made shivers run up and down my spine all night long. “It’s going to be awhile before you can come back,” she reminded me in a low voice, her breath warm on my ear.

It was going to be a long time before I would feel her knowing hands on my body again, a long time before I’d hear her soft voice whispering sweet, sexy, dirty words in my ear. It would be a long time before I would feel her precious lips on mine, make her nipple grow hard in my mouth, taste the musky sweetness of her pussy on my tongue. It made my heart ache, and my clit burn.

The snap of a plastic bottle opening brought me back to reality, and I breathed deeply the smell of coconut as her strong fingers worked the shampoo into a thick lather and massaged my scalp. I leaned my head back, letting her wash my hair. Life was so easy with her in control. Part of me wanted to stay and let her take care of me, but there were kids at home who needed me, babies who needed their hair washed, and a husband expecting to put his hands where hers had been. There were people who needed me to take care of them.

The soap ran down my body in thick, white streams, making my skin slick and slippery. She turned me around and I tipped my head back into the spray, closing my eyes against the stinging lather. Her hands were on me again, sliding around the curves of my ass and pulling me close to her. Her soft breasts pressed against mine and I grabbed them hungrily.

Right now she needed me, and for the moment, I was hers.

I gave into the desire. I ran my hands through her hair, feeling it silky between my fingers, pulling her mouth to mine. I tasted her hungrily. In her soft lips still swollen from lovemaking and in her searching tongue, all the passion we had shared, and all the pent-up longing and long-distance teasing before that, and the sweet ache of not knowing when she would be mine again mingled in pulsing currents between us.

I slid my hand between her legs and parted her lips, stroking her clit. She was so ready for me. I pressed her against the shower wall, letting the hot water wash over our bodies. She was slick and tight as I slid into her, hitting her most sensitive spots and making her arch into my hand. With my free hand I played with the silver barbell through her nipple, tugging it gently and making her moan into my open mouth. “What am I going to do when you’re gone?”

I didn’t answer her with words. I didn’t know how to say that she should savor this pleasure and store it up so she could pull it out when she was feeling alone. I kissed her sweet lips and used my hands the way she’d taught me, guiding me patiently over her pleasure centers, showing me what feels good to her over and over again until we slept in each other’s arms.

I no longer needed a map. Our first time–my first time–was far behind me, and I wanted to make this beautiful woman come over and over again. Or at least one more time. I stroked my fingers inside her, curling them deep within, feeling her clench around me. Her breath was shallow and fast, and her hips jerked against me. I needed to taste her again.

I pulled my fingers out of her and she sighed, opening her eyes, waiting breathlessly for me.

I put them in my mouth and tasted her, and she groaned as I smiled.

I knelt before her, running my hands over her curves, trying to memorize every inch of her soft, precious skin. I teased the little nest of curls between her legs, watching intently as she spread her legs for me and put one foot up on the side of the tub. Her shiny pink slit parted, and the silver loop through her plump nether lip beckoning to me. I kissed it and felt her shudder, and I let my lips linger on her sensitive clit for just a minute, before parting the rosy folds with my tongue and tasted her in earnest.

Her hands were on my head, caressing me as I sucked her sweet pussy, licking it, stroking her hard, berry-like clit with my flattened tongue. She was moaning with every breath, pressing me to her, coming too quickly.

I slid my fingers back inside her and she groaned. “Just let go, baby,” I told her, working her cunt hard, probing her deeply. My tongue and lips danced on the center of her pleasure, recalling her gentle direction and no longer needing it. She was mine, and I was going to make her come, make her tremble in my hands and hold her as she spiraled out of control, if only for a blessedly brief time.

My own cunt was swollen with desire and my clit throbbed painfully. I pressed my thighs together, the taste of her juices running over my tongue and down my arm bringing me to the edge. I needed to feel her come for me first. I slipped a third finger inside her, spreading her wider and making her moan and thrust against me again.

“I don’t want to,” she said, her voice husky with desire, shaking her head side to side, even as her hands urged me to continue. “I don’t want it to end.” But it was too late. Her last word dissolved into a cry as she came, her cunt spasming around my finger. Deep contractions and a warm gush of fluid in my mouth, hands in my hair, her leg around my shoulders, pulling me into her center.

Her eyes flashed under heavy lids, and I stood, but she turned away from my kiss. “Don’t,” I said, cupping her chin in my hand and kissing her, letting her taste herself on my lips. Her tears were salty as they fell and I kissed them away. “It’s not forever,” I said, holding her close, letting the water wash over us. “This is just the beginning of our story, love.”

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