Watching You Now

Authors Note:

This story is a work of fiction and depicts a sexual relationship between two consenting adult women. If this offends you, read no further.

This is my first story and I encourage you to leave comments. I enjoy writing and appreciate all constructive criticism.

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I fell in love watching you shower, you know. I've done it so often I know your routine off by heart. I know how shy you are and how you shriek when you catch me watching. I always hated the see-through shower doors until the first time I saw you through them, now I wouldn't trade them for anything.

I'm sitting on the bed listening to you prepare for your 40 minute show of divine sensuality. I hear the water begin to flow and try to picture you getting undressed, as I know you are now doing. You unbutton your white pinstriped shirt, always forgetting to untuck it from your black formal pants first. When you can't get to the last two buttons I hear you sigh at yourself, annoyed, and I smile. You untuck it and finish unbuttoning it and quickly shake if free from your shoulders. I hear the lid to the laundry basket open and your shirt land in the bottom. Next I hear the clasp and zip on your pants and picture the way you shimmy them down those strong legs.

While I can't hear it I know your panties are next, your bra always comes off last. I still admire the way you reach back with your left hand and unclasp it in less than a second. I can never get that right and always end up using both hands. I hear your wedding ring swivel to a stop on the basin and bite my lip knowing that soon I will able to hide behind the open door and watch every moment of your favourite preferred cleansing ritual.

Staring at the dark wood door leading to the bathroom I hear the glass shower door slide open and I wait for the inevitable sharp intake of air when you try to reach through the hot stream of water to turn the cold tap open. I hear the water flowing at different speeds until you find the perfect mix. I stand up, slowly tiptoeing my way to the door, being careful to keep my body behind it. I pull it open a little more just enough for me to see the entire length of the shower, knowing you move across the whole space.

You stand with your head tilted backwards and the water colliding with your chest, your arms pulled to the sides of your breasts as though you were cold and your palms facing the water. You inhale deeply and slowly, moving your neck from side to side just letting the water trickle down your back. Now comfortable with the temperature you turn your back to the stream and tilt your head backwards to wet your hair. Your arms are still at your chest and your expression is one of pure tranquillity as the water pours over your face and hair and down the curves of your lean body.

You don't exactly have the athletic build but that doesn't stop you from trying. Your natural hourglass figure is lean and taut from daily 10 mile runs and the occasional strength training session. When your hair is thoroughly wetted you reach for the vanilla scented shampoo that makes my stomach flutter each time you hug me. After pouring some into your hand and returning the bottle to its' rightful place you work the shampoo into your mid-back length hair. Your naturally ginger hair is now dyed a darker shade of red which I don't always understand but still love. As you build up a lather with the shampoo I watch the well developed but unmistakably feminine muscles in your arms and shoulders flex. My groin twitches at the memory of seeing them flex in a similar way.

The evening of our second anniversary we had gone to an upper class restaurant. You sent sultry glares across the table all night and I often caught you staring at the tanned cleavage purposefully sticking out of my low cut black dress. I had my shoulder length brunette hair up in a clip because you love the way it makes my cheek bones pop. After three hours of our legs stealing caresses under the table we hurried home. I barely got the door closed before your lips were on mine. Being about a month and a half ago that was the last time you fervently lifted my legs around your waist and pinned me to the living room wall. Your sleeveless, cream coloured blouse allowed me to see every rise and dip of those smooth muscles that were holding me up while your hips were grinding hard against me, before carrying me to the bedroom and effortlessly tossing me onto the bed.

I should remember to buy more of the wine we were drinking in the restaurant that night. When you're done you lean back under the water and the white foam is almost imperceptible as it flows down your milky white skin. I adore your Irish complexion, freckles and all.

The next step in your compulsive routine is the conditioner. You always complain that you need to use twice as much conditioner on your hair as shampoo. I watch you systematically work it into your hair, spreading it evenly over the length. Once your hair is well coated I watch you rake your fingers along the back of your head pulling the hair up into a ponytail, where you then twist it around into a tight bun to keep it out of the water while the conditioner does its work.

Now you reach for your lilac coloured sponge and the shower gel that makes your skin so irresistibly soft and smooth. What you do next made me laugh the first few times I saw it. You move the soapy sponge once up your left arm, across your chest and down your right arm. Returning the sponge to your chest you give two quick swipes across your breasts and a circle over your stomach and then you move the sponge to your lower back drawing another circle and one on each of your butt cheeks. A long U-shape from the back to the front of each thigh completes the "soap-spreading" phase, as you call it. The sponge now returns to your left arm to meticulously scrub every inch of your magnificent body following the same pattern; arms, chest, stomach, lower back, butt, thighs, pussy and finally lower legs and feet.

Tonight the world seems to slow down as I watch you circle and sponge your 34C breasts. I can feel my pupils dilate as I watch your rose pink nipples harden and grow under the rough sponge cleansing. As you wash each one you caress and squeeze it spreading the soap that makes them glisten in the artificial lighting of the bathroom. When you're sure both are clean and release them from your grip they firmly bounce and jiggle and my nerves do the same. I remember the first time I saw them, the first time I saw you naked.

We were making out on the sofa and I was straddling your lap. It was our sixth date and I was determined to have you that night. You looked so damned sexy in those tight blue jeans and figure hugging white yoga top. Your black knee high boots added an extra three inches to the two inches by which you were already taller than me. You had your hair loose and styled with gentle waves. You were wearing makeup and your blue-grey eyes smouldered the entire night, making me wet with a mere glance.

Looking down into those eyes while sitting over you made me buck and grind against your legs. Eventually I pulled you forward and virtually tore your shirt off, I cursed while fumbling with the clasp on your black push-up bra as my urgency got the better of me. You giggled and reached back with one hand to help me. Sliding it from your arms I watched your breasts bounce when being freed from their confines. I stared at them for a long while, biting my lip as my mouth began to water.

"What's wrong?" You eventually asked breaking my trance.

"Your boobs are fucking amazing," I whispered, looking back into your eyes and slowly lifting my hands to gently cup your breasts and I consumed your lips with mine, feeling the fullness of your breasts and your already pebble-hard nipples grazing against my palms. Running my finger tips gently down the sides of your breasts I stared at them once more and licked my lips. Shifting back on your lap, I plunged my head forward to the centre of your chest and gently pushed your breasts to smother the sides of my face. You exhaled loudly and your hands flew to my hair and pulled me even closer into you. I would have been happy to have just spent the rest of the night like that but it held many more adventures ahead.

Similar memories pop into my head as I watch you wash the rest of your body. When your body is completely covered in the soapy foam you rinse the sponge and return it to where it hangs. You slowly and sensually rinse your body, being careful not to get your hair in the water yet. Your hands run all over your slick silky skin and smooth the soap from it. Gosh do I envy those hands. I smile when I watch them push the foam down your round bubble-butt. When you arch your back slightly and push your bum out I can immediately feel my pulse in my pussy. Now that is a dangerous memory.

You hate the summer, you always have. Having grown up in a relatively cold climate and then moving to one which averages 25 degrees warmer than what you're used to has you complaining often. I, on the other hand, have found another reason to love summer. It means you walk around in your underwear most of the time and you don't own a single pair that isn't lingerie or just plain sexy.

This night you were wearing an emerald green lacy boy-cut pair that sat low on your hips and ran exquisitely half way down your ass. The matching bra complimented your complexion and deep red hair perfectly. You were lying on the sofa on your stomach reading the incident report for the latest problem in the chemical plant you work in. Being the head engineer has its disadvantages when things go awry. You were propped up on your elbows with an uncapped highlighter scanning the pages for its next mark. Your long legs were crossed at the ankles and your toes were unconsciously flicking the seam of the cushion. The curve of your spine gave your ass the pronounced look one typically sees in underwear models.

I was so wet that night. I had wanted you since our lunch-hour phone call which ended with you whispering that you missed me in that shiver inducing tone you have. Unfortunately, I knew not to disturb you when you had to bring your work home, any distractions would only annoy and frustrate you. However, staring at you in that moment, I had the most desperate and gut-wrenching need to feel close to you.

Hesitantly, I quietly walked over to the sofa in my, less alluring, denim shorts and loose fitting T-shirt and, as gently as I could, placed my knees on either side of yours and lowered myself onto you. The small height difference and my 32B chest allow me to fit perfectly into the curves of your delectable body. My head on your shoulder blades, my boobs between your shoulder blades and the dip of your back, my arms at your sides and my mound nestled tightly in the crevice of your ass. I breathed your scent in deeply knowing that you'd kick me off in about 5 minutes because it was too hot. As you breathed underneath me and your chest expanded and contracted, it subtly massaged my breasts and I knew that by then even my jeans were showing the telltale signs of my arousal.

I bit the inside of my cheek trying to focus on calming down. My fingers began to trace the skin just below your bra, feeling the contrast between your smooth skin and the slightly rougher lace. My fingers travelled up higher to the seam underneath your arm. When they accidentally grazed your ticklish spot you flinched, your arms snapped closed on my hands and your back arched further, pushing your butt sharply against my pussy. The sensation was electric and a moan escaped my throat as my hands firmly squeezed your waist and my body ground against you of its own accord. Surprised you looked back at me with wide eyes. Flustered, I turned my head down and rested it low on your back, cursing the involuntary reaction. I raised my arms to my sides and hoped you could feel my apology without me saying it.

You had turned your head back to the report but I squeezed my eyes shut when I heard the highlighter now faintly tapping on the paper, knowing it meant you were no longer concentrating on the task. I tried not to move so you could go back to work. I felt you turn your head and I thought you were looking at me but I didn't dare look up. Then suddenly I felt your hands around my wrists and you pulled them back to your sides, unsure of what to expect I stayed still. You slowly and gently started to roll your hips against me and at first I thought I was imagining it, but when my stomach muscles quivered I realised it was actually happening. I still stay quiet thinking you were only adjusting your position or stretching or something like that. You slid your arms inside mine then and pulled them up to the outsides of your shoulders, your hips still rolling. It quickly got harder to control my breathing.

Next, you did what was surely the most erotic thing you had ever done so far. You reached down and grabbed the sides of my shorts pulling firmly and moving my hips up as you stuck your ass out further. You began to buck your hips underneath me and grind hard into my pussy making me moan and shiver. I put my forehead on your shoulder as you continued to pull on my shorts. As I kissed your shoulder tentatively your right hand came up and tangled itself in my hair. I heard your breathing become shallow and quick and you rolled your hips slightly faster. Lifting myself a little and spreading my legs further apart over you I began to rub my pussy against your gyrating ass.

"Fuck!" I moaned as the first pre-orgasmic wave ripped through me. I sat up straight with my knees at your hips, you lifted your ass to me and I began to pound harshly against the delicious contour. The crevice where the two mouth-watering globes met caught and pulled the seam of my shorts directly over my throbbing clit. As I got closer, I picked up the pace, my juices now running down the insides of my thighs and smearing all over you. My thoughts became incoherent blurs as I squeezed your shoulders, rubbing against your ass so hard that the sofa was knocking against the coffee table. Your hands now pressed against the arm of the sofa to steady yourself, you lifted your ass just a little more, the fabric of your underwear now pulled into a thong and the flesh bouncing with each thrust of my sopping pussy.

"Oh fuck, Baby." Rang through the air as my muscles began to tighten. Your hands flew down to dig into my thighs and pull me harder into you.

"Cum for me, cum for me Babe," Whispered in your magnetic voice was all it took to send me plummeting over the edge into ecstasy. I practically screamed your name as my body shuddered and convulsed with the fierce waves of pleasure and I squirted all over the ass that had just given me one of the most intense orgasms I could remember. I fought to keep rubbing against you, prolonging the orgasm as long as I could. When my clit became so sensitive that I couldn't stand it any more I collapsed onto you, breathing heavily into your neck, feeling the last tremors rock my core. When I had calmed enough and our breathing had returned to an almost normal pace, your hand slid off the sofa to the floor and picked up the report, which I hadn't even noticed you'd moved, and put it back in front of you. I fell asleep on your back and only woke up later that night when you were carrying me to bed.

After rinsing your body you reach for the comb and brush your hair out, you say you do it so that your hair doesn't break as much. You part your hair down the middle and pull it to either side as if you were going to put it in pigtails. You start with the left side, combing out the bottom first then finishing with the top. You repeat the procedure on the right side then carefully comb it back into place behind your head. Before you rinse your hair you pick up your face wash and shake the tube a little making those beautiful breasts jiggle again and I smile devilishly. Flipping open the cap you put a small amount onto your palm then close the cap by pressing it against your hip, something I find incredibly cute. You spend a fair amount of time massaging the soap into your face. You wrinkle your freckled little nose when you accidentally get a bubble inside it and I try hard not to giggle out loud.

When you're done you lean back into the water with your head back, rinsing your face and hair at the same time. Once you've rubbed all the soap from your face you reach back and begin to run your fingers through your hair to rinse the conditioner out thoroughly. When you rinse the back of your head, you lean further backwards giving me a view that instantly has me dripping wet. When you lean back and tense your stomach muscles, it is the rarest and most breathtaking aspect of you.

Now clearly defined is your six-pack, standing proud and lean for only me and the walls to see. The only other time I get to see them so pronounced is on the rarest of occasions between us. The magical nights when I get to see you lost in the throws of passion and the heights of desire, as I am every time we make love. Our encounters are sometimes sensual and sometimes wild but always filled with love. In the exceptional moments when you beg me to fuck you, a once in a blue moon kind of mood for you, I don the purple strap-on which is usually your toy.

I am hypnotized in those moments where I sit between your widespread legs, my knees underneath your crooked legs at the side of your hips. Your bare pussy exposed to me in all its glory. You have the most beautiful pussy I've ever seen, small and neat, the inner lips not protruding through your smooth outer labia but hidden in a sweet valley designed to consume my mind in curiosity and possess me with the urgency to see, smell and taste it. You are a little self conscious about the small beauty spot on your right outer labia but I always give it a kiss when I get the chance as it is what makes your pussy, your pussy. It is also the only shade of pink I absolutely love, the only one I like at all. With this stunning sight glistening in your juices and your eyes filled with raw lust I slowly insert the toy into you, allowing you to adjust. When you start to buck your hips against me I know you're ready and waiting for me now. My hands on your hips I start long slow strokes, I know this teases you and brings out your aggressive side.

Your thighs flex slightly, tilting your hips up to meet my thrusts. Your facial expression is still calm and your breathing controlled, so I decide to push you to the next level. I rake my fingernails harshly over your thighs, leaving red lines in their wake and you gasp loudly, closing your eyes and pushing your head back into the pillows. I move my hands to your stomach and lightly drag my nails over your ribs and down your sides, teasing you further because I know you want me to scratch harder. I get what I want and you look at me with fierce eyes, groaning through gritted teeth and grasping at the sheet beneath you. I give you a wicked grin but continue my slow steady pace. When you realise that I'm going to keep torturing you, you throw your head back again and hiss at me.

"You fucking little tease," You say pulling harder on the sheet. My grin now beams with self-satisfaction and lust. Damn, I love it when you call me that and my pussy is throbbing once more. I decide to thrust just a little faster and scratch down your stomach in earnest. I am rewarded with your low guttural moan and your head thrashing side to side on the pillow. You begin to buck against me, essentially fucking me and you are doing it fast. Not wanting to give up control yet and wanting to have this feeling for as long as possible, I pull the phallus shaped toy out of you and give you my strictest look. This drives you mad, your hands fly to the headboard of the bed and I hear your nails scraping into the material as your arms cover your face.