He introduced me to his sexy shower, and the glories of making out fully clothed underneath a rain head, letting the warm droplets slither down into the sticky curves of my body, the heat of his hands sliding over every inch of me, fingers in the wet curls of my hair, my back against the blue tiled wall, his mouth crushing mine and his tongue proving that he wasn't always such a gentleman.
He stripped me of my sopping clothing, peeling each piece with aching precision, and when I was naked, he was suddenly shy until I grabbed him by his big belt buckle and freed him of his pants.
We never made it to the bed.We did, however, make it to (make it on?) the rug in front of his bed (twice) (hello, carpet burns in funny places!), and on his kitchen counter with the blinds (and my legs) wide open, up against the hood of his truck in the garage (hood -ornament-shaped-bruise on my belly), and the hot tub.
Oh, the hot tub.
Ooooohhhh, the hot tub. Oooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Oh, the naughty, slippery things we did underwater while the heat made me drunk, and weak in the knees, and properly aimed bubbles made me blush, and convulse, and strongly mixed margaritas made me brave, and his stubble made the places where grazed my skin with his lips tickle, and a big strong cowboy made me cumcumcum.
And just when I thought I barely had the energy to find where my panties were tossed hours ago, I somehow managed to find just a little bit more so we screwed up against the back of the house, with my legs wrapped tightly around his waist and the privacy hedges doing very little to block the sound of my moans from the poor guy barbecuing next door.
When I woke up, it was dark out, and I was already having a slow fuck in the soft grass, underneath stars that winked back at me, with a man who is at this moment walking around with my teeth marks in his shoulder.
And that's what life is all about.