Victoria's Little Secret

"Ooooh, ahhhhhh, OOOOOH, AHHHHH..."

Victoria's moans of pleasure echoed off the walls of the shower enclosure. She was leaning against the back wall, one hand cupping a full breast, the other buried between her thighs. She was on the brink of orgasm when a flash of movement in the bathroom doorway caught her eye. Stifling a shriek, she relaxed slightly as she recognized the foreman of the crew currently employed to paint her house.

He looked as startled as she.

"I'm sorry," he mouthed. "I'm berry sorry. I hear noise, I think something is wrong..." he continued in his Russian accent.

Victoria didn't quite know what to do. As the shock wore off and the lust-haze cleared she realized he was staring at her naked body through the clear glass shower door.

"It's OK, Yuri," she said in as dignified a tone as she could manage under the circumstances.

His admiration was evident as his gaze traveled up her long slender legs, past round pink-tipped breasts to a pretty heart-shaped face surrounded by flame-red curls.

"You are beautiful, Miss Victoria," he blurted, "like an exotic rose."

She liked the way he said her name, drawing out each syllable musically and not trying to shorten it. She hated it when people called her Tory or, God forbid, Vicky.

She resisted the urge to snatch a towel and cover herself. After all, having a good-looking man admiring her naked body was the sexiest thing that had happened to her in a long while. Besides, it was his fault she was in the shower masturbating in the middle of the day anyway!

Yuri and his crew had been on the job almost a week. She'd gotten to know him pretty well through numerous consultations, questions, discussions and one rather heated argument over the color she'd chosen for her bedroom.

"Too noisy," he'd said. She had insisted, however, and been forced to admit he was right when the delicate salmon pink sample she'd loved had darkened to an unfortunate Pepto Bismol shade when dry.

She'd joined the crew on lunch breaks a couple of times and they'd had several discussions on current events and world politics. She was especially fascinated by his description of the breakup of the Soviet Union when he was a teenager. He was intriguing and self-effacing about his accomplishments. He'd emigrated with nothing and worked hard to build a business with a reputation for excellent service and quality work.

She'd been at her desk working from home that morning, trying to ignore the bustling workers. Occasionally she'd catch a glimpse of Yuri in is faded jeans, work boots and paint splattered T-shirt. He fascinated her with his intelligence, dark good looks and musically accented English.

"Wouldn't the guys in the office love this?" she asked herself mockingly.

They'd laugh at the idea of uptight, buttoned-down Victoria Cousins lusting after the house painter. Actually, they'd be shocked at her lusting after anyone. Her innate shyness and coolly professional manner had been mistaken for standoffishness from day one with the large computer firm and she couldn't seem to shake the "Ice Queen" label. She was ambitious and took her work seriously. Too seriously, she reflected, given the stomach ulcers and insomnia plaguing her lately. She shook her head and attempted to concentrate on a sales proposal. But her thoughts kept floating to Yuri. Would his moustache tickle if he kissed her ... everywhere? How would his callused hands feel on her breasts? Was his butt as delicious as it looked in those tight jeans?

Her body began to heat as she imagined the answers to these lascivious musings. She enjoyed the feeling for awhile, balancing on the thin line between pleasurable arousal and desperate need for release, then worked a bit more to occupy her mind. Finally, though, she couldn't stand it any longer. She saw that the crew had moved outdoors for some exterior work so she headed to her bedroom to take a shower, reflecting that she could use some cooling off.

It didn't work. Instead, naked under the warm water, her fantasies had returned full force. Images of Yuri's strong body wrapped around hers under the cascading spray proved to be her undoing. The ache in her body became almost unbearable. Her hands began to move over her body, seeking relief.

Then she'd seen him standing by the door.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, bringing her back to the present, "I go now."

"No," she whispered. "No, Yuri," she repeated in a stronger voice. "Don't go."

He stared.

Unaccustomed to being this bold, she floundered for a moment.

"Um...you look ... hot. It's hot today. Don't want to cool off a little?"

He smiled slowly, a hot hungry smile that made her shiver. He locked the door and stripped off his boots and socks. He drew his T-shirt over his head, revealing strong shoulders and a well-defined chest. She watched eagerly as his hands moved to the button fly of his jeans. He undid them one at a time, then lowered his jeans, his gaze locked with hers. She raised her eyebrows at his lack of underwear.

"More comfortable in this Southern heat," he explained, noticing her surprise.

His legs were magnificent, sturdy and thickly muscled. His cock was also thick and sturdy. It was rock hard, jutting aggressively out from his body. Yuri moved toward where she stood at the open shower door, noting the expression on her face.

"Are you sure?" he asked softly. His perception of her momentary nervousness reassured her and his willingness to back off made her all the more determined to have him.

"Oh, I'm real sure," she drawled.

He stepped into the steamy enclosure with her. He wasn't all that tall, just a few inches more than her 5'7" and she found she liked the way their bodies fit together. Pulling her close, he kissed her. His mouth was warm and tasted faintly of peppermint. She moaned with pleasure at the feel of his hard body against hers.

The kiss went on and on. Her hands stroked his wide shoulders while his ran up and down her back, dipping down to caress her soft buttocks. She pressed against him, rubbing against his hard flesh.

He stepped back slightly and ran his hands down the front of her body. His hands were gentle on her, almost reverent. He traced her collarbone lightly with his thumbs, then ran them down her breastbone. Flattening them out, he stroked her stomach and hips.

All she could do was clutch his shoulders, eyes closed, and revel in his soft touch. He cupped her breasts, the sweet flesh filling his palms. He rubbed his palms over her nipples and made her whimper. She ground her lower body against his, desperate to get closer.

Straightening, he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking on the distended tip, drawing it hard against the roof of his mouth. His hand toyed with the other one, rolling it between his fingers.

He withdrew and braced against the shower wall to pull her closer to him. As he did so his eyes fell on the detachable shower head. Unhooking it from the wall mount, he adjusted the dial to a gentle pulse. Still dazed from his caresses, she only half-realized what he was doing at first. She gasped in surprise when the warm spray hit her neck.

"Mmmmm..." she whispered, arching toward him.

"You seemed a little...uptight...this week. Maybe this will make you feel better," he said.

He ran the spray down her back, using one hand to spread the cheeks of her ass and bathed the sensitive crease with the warm water. She gasped at the unfamiliar yet erotic sensation.

Turning her sideways, he used the sprayer to massage her foot, tickling playfully between her toes and making her laugh.

"Is a good sound," he said. "You need to laugh more. I think you work too hard."

She laughed again at his mother-hen tone, and stroked his back as she replied, "You're absolutely right. I'm turning over a new leaf, starting today."

He turned serious as he ran the stream up the insides of her legs. He came dangerously close to the achy, needy place between them, but passed over it, turning his attention to her trembling breasts.

He cupped one in his hand, running the spray over the center. Her nipple, already sensitized from his earlier attention, was diamond-hard and flushed red. His gaze was rapt on it as he tantalized her with the warm spray. She squirmed, pressing her thighs together as he administered the same treatment on the other side. He alternated between her breasts, making sure each received its fair share of attention. Occasionally he would kiss her, his mouth hot and hungry. Need was throbbing insistently between her thighs and she was moaning and gasping for breath.

Sensing it, he reached up and adjusted the spray to a stronger pulse. He ran the nozzle down her torso, making lazy, sensuous circles on her breasts and belly. She moaned again and arched toward him beseechingly. Finally he applied the spray, moving it over the silky triangle between her legs. As the warm water caressed her aroused pussy lips, she squeezed her eyes shut and fell back against the shower wall. Yuri methodically laved her with the shower massager, keeping it moving, leaving her off balance and aching.

He murmured words to her that sounded all the more exotic because they were in Russian.

The sprayer continued to make sensuous circles between her thighs. The pressure wasn't enough to allow her to go over the edge and she shifted against him restlessly, mindlessly seeking release. He reached up and adjusted the spray again, then, kneeling before her, he nudged her thighs apart for better access. He used one hand to spread her pussy lips, exposing the pulsating bundle of nerves there. He applied the spray directly to her clit and she screamed when her orgasm ripped through her.

The sound echoed off the tile walls and he grinned knowingly. "No wonder I think someone was killing you."

She barely heard him, so focused was she on the sensations he was eliciting. Shuddering, she came again and again, the pulsing spray driving her almost insane with pleasure. Her hands grasped his shoulders for support, fingernails scoring the flesh. Neither noticed the little beads of blood she drew.

Finally she twisted away, gasping, "No more, I can't stand it."

"Yes, more," he ordered, his eyes glittering with passion.

He turned up the water and spread her legs wider. The warm water pounded on her clit, wrenching from her another orgasm and another scream. Her body, which had been tense as a bow string, finally went limp and she started to slide down the wall. He caught her and held her tightly, stroking her hair and speaking softly in Russian. She clung to him, waiting for her pounding heart to subside.

"Feeling better?"

"Ohhhh, yes," she said fervently, slowly becoming aware of his hard cock nestled between their bodies. It twitched now and then, as if to remind her that it needed attention, too.

"I want to fuck you," he said in his lightly accented English.

She pulled back slightly, gazing down at him. He was large and thick and she purred her appreciation. Caressing him lightly, she was gratified when he seemed to swell and get even harder under her touch.

Without warning he backed her against the wall again and kissed her deeply, circling his hips hard against her. Shoving a knee between hers he lifted her and braced himself. She let out a breathless moan as he pressed inside her, filling her eager pussy with his cock. They were still for a moment, then he began to flex his hips, moving almost imperceptibly inside her. She couldn't move, legs dangling as they were, so she concentrated on squeezing him tightly with her pussy walls. She focused all her energy on flexing the muscles deep within. He moaned his appreciation of her efforts, savoring each thrust into her hot, tight passage.

He needed both hands to hold her – God, he was strong – but hers were free and she used them to caress his face, his bulging biceps, the hard little nipples. Yuri pushed her against the wall and began pumping into her faster, impossibly deep, filling and stretching her to the limit. She could only hang on, nails making crescents on his back, badges of passion he would wear for days.

Both of them were panting now, racing toward the peak.

"Oh my God, I'm going to come again," she said in some surprise.

His voice was thick, ragged, "Come again, Victoria. I...want...to...make...you...come...AGAIN!"

Each word was punctuated with another deep thrust. She kept squeezing him, wriggling mindlessly in his arms as yet another orgasm claimed her. Satisfied, he let himself go. He came hard, cock throbbing intensely, pumping into her furiously. His own groan of pleasure reverberated through the enclosure, sending erotic chills down her spine.

She clung to him, body wrapped around his like spaghetti around a fork. Drifting back to reality, she finally realized that cold water was pounding on Yuri's back. Laughing weakly, she reached out and turned off the shower.

He set her on her feet and kissed her softly on the lips.

"I have thought about you this week, Victoria. I have imagined being together like this. But it was..." he floundered, "krasivaya," apparently deciding only his native tongue could adequately express his emotion.

"Yes, krasivaya," she repeated softly, earning a pleased smile.

He grabbed a fluffy towel and dried her off.

"You need to rest now. You do not feel well sometimes, I can see it."

Bemused, she allowed him to towel-dry her hair and bundle her into a silk nightshirt. She'd always been the tough one, the ambitious one, the one always in charge. It was nice to be taken care of, to be fussed over for a change. He picked her up and carried her to the bed. She'd die before admitting it but the romance of it appealed to her. She snuggled sleepily under the covers.

He kissed her sweetly.

"Rest now," he ordered. "I have to check on my crew. I'll be back up here later."

She blew him a lazy kiss as her eyes drifted shut. She was asleep before he closed the door softly from the other side.