Pink Ice

She reached across me, brushing her arm against my breasts, grabbing the shampoo bottle off the triangular shelf in the corner of the molded plastic shower stall. She squeezed a large dollop in her hand and lovingly worked the suds into my hair. By now her blouse was soaked, as was her skirt. My heart was making this decision.

"Max ... Max ... what am I going to do with you?" Her fingers were massaging my scalp. The water turned a toasty warm. I closed my eyes.

"Mmmmm ..." I moaned at the impromptu massage. The unexpected pleasure took my concentration away from standing up. My elevated blood alcohol level decided it was time for me to fall over.

"Woah!!!" I exclaimed, losing my balance.

Rachel stepped into the shower and caught me as I started to fall. Now she was standing, fully dressed and barefoot, next to me under the spray. She was beautiful, her dark hair, carefully plaited, now hanging limply against her back. Her supposed waterproof mascara was running down her face. I did what I wanted to do from the moment I met her. I kissed her. Full on the lips.

She did nothing. She stood there impassively, seeming ignoring both my affection and the water beating on her face. My kisses became more fervent, her arms still around me, supporting me. Then finally her lips parted, and the dam finally broke, the months of simmering sexual tension between us exploding into a desperate frenzy of kisses. The water trailed down our faces, taking with it my alcohol induced haze and washing it down the drain, bringing to me a moment of clarity. She is who I always wanted but could never have.

She was the first to speak.

"Max," she said breathily. "Max ... I wondered ... for so long ...".

Her voice trailed off as I kissed her again, hanging onto her tightly, her wet clothes dripping. It was my turn to confess.

"Rachel ... I want you ...".

She carefully peeled off her wet clothes and threw them on the bathroom floor. It was the first time I saw her fully nude, her neatly trimmed pubic patch between gleaming white thighs. My tears turned to lust, and then fear.

Why should she want me? A broken down drunk. Was it pity? I turned off the shower and got out, toweling off and killing the moment.

Rachel could sense the sudden change in mood. "Max ... what's wrong?"

I said nothing. She got out, water streaming off her, and spun me around so I was facing her.

"Max?"

"I don't know ...".

"You don't know what?"

"I don't know why you'd want me. Why?"

"Why?" She was incredulous. "How could you not know that I love you?"

"Love me?"

"Of course I love you."

"But I'm a drunk."

"You haven't been. You fell off the wagon because of Steph. I can help you."

"You don't have to. I don't know why you would."

"Max, you can't always choose the persons you love. I love you, faults and all."

"I don't deserve you."

"You deserve to be loved, like everyone else."

I had no more words. I kissed her. She fell into my arms.

* * *

We held each other as we got into bed together, bouncing on the cheap mattress. I pushed the tangled sheets, still reeking of alcohol, off the bed. The shower, and the kisses, reinvigorated me. I pinned her underneath me, my full weight resting on her, our breasts pressed against each other. I kissed the nape of her neck, her head thrown back and her eyes closed. Her nostrils flared as I nibbled on the tender flesh.

"Max ..."

My kisses trailed down to her breasts, hungrily kissing, then sucking on the hardened pinkish nipples, drawing them into my mouth and swirling my tongue around each of them. She let out a gentle sigh as I planted kisses on her tummy, taking the slow way to the swampy mess between her legs. Her back arched as my tongue found her labia, already swollen and ready. My index finger traced between the slickened lips, pressing and sliding easily inside her, her hips now thrusting up to receive me.

It was time now to capture her hardened nub between my lips as two fingers twisted inside her, causing her to moan. The low throated growl incited me to go lower, lifting her thighs over my shoulders and exposing the rippled skin of her anus. It was my dirty little kink, and the heady aroma of her pussy and ass pulled my tongue towards her puckered opening.

"Of fuck Max. You dirty little bitch," she uttered between labored breaths. I could feel the muscles in her thighs tremble as I tongue fucked her ass.

I worked the opening with a finger, sliding my tongue in beside it.

"Pull my hair Max ... please," she begged. Her wet, plaited hair, made it easy for me to tug on it, pulling her head upright. Her fingers were now working her clit as I continued to lick and suck on her ass.

"Oh God ... uhhh ... uhhhh ... uhhhh." Her panting quickened, as did her fingers, furiously working her pussy.

"Fuck ... no ... no ... no ... don't stop," she pleaded. I didn't.

"Maaaaaaaax .........". Her voice went up an octave as her hips thrust upward, pumping into the air. I turned my head back and forth, smearing her juices on my face, and pushing my tongue even deeper inside her. Her young firm body was now a quivering mass.

I moved up to the head of the bed and cradled her head in my lap. Her eyes were closed, and a fine sheen of sweat covered her forehead. I couldn't resist giving her angelic face a tender kiss.

"I love you Rachel," I couldn't help myself from saying.

"Ummm ..." was her dreamy reply.

* * *

It had been two weeks since Rachel and I hooked up. I was still sorting through my feelings for Steph and Rachel, now knowing that Steph would be locked up for at least ten years until she was eligible for parole. It was still hard to let go of Steph, and to grapple with the fact that it had been her, all along, that had been the mole inside our police force, tipping off the drug merchants and profiting from their ill gotten gains. Her underlying purpose was true ... to support her invalid son ... but the social cost was too great. To compromise her oath to the force, to betray their trust, my trust, and to knowingly supply poison to its victims. There was no room to love such a person.

Rachel and I are still trying to find out if we have the foundation for a long lasting relationship. I wake up every day, telling myself that she loves me, and that I love her, and that one true fact is reason enough not to take my next drink.

* * *