The Chronicles of Ben Merriman #02

Caroline hops into the shower and luxuriates in the feel as the water pounds her skin. She reaches lazily for the soap and sets about lathering up her body. Her fingers caress the cleanser into her skin, gliding easily over the slick flesh.

The soap bar slips from her hand and hits the tile floor, and she bends to retrieve it. A thick stream of water courses down the gully of her spinal track and into the channel between the bubbles of her ass, gushing over the wrinkled plot of her anus and across her pink folds before falling to the floor as gravity takes hold. The sensation the flow creates in her most private places makes her shiver, even under the hot shower water, and she picks up the soap and begins to wash her legs.

She rises higher and higher, massaging the soap delicately into her skin, relishing the simple sensations. Caroline moans as her hands roam over her soap-slick breasts, pushing them hard up together and running her fingertips over the pointed nipples. Her breasts are extremely sensitive, and always have been.

She rinses the soap from her body and spends several leisurely minutes thereafter washing her hair. When finally she is finished, she steps from the shower and towels herself off. She wraps the towel around her body and goes back into her bedroom.

Where she promptly stops short.

Danny Salvatore is sitting on the edge of her bed, the corners of his mouth hooked up in a smile. "Wow," he says softly, admiring her.

Caroline raises an eyebrow as she walks to her chest of drawers, but does not respond to the man who is one of her roommates. She opens the top drawer and rummages through it.

Danny follows her with his eyes. The thin white towel barely conceals the beautiful woman's wet body. The topside-tuck is nestled deep in the valley of her cleavage; more than half her large breasts are exposed, nearly to the nipples. The bottom of the towel barely makes it down over her hips, covering about as much of her incredible legs as the shortest mini-skirt would. Any regular hot-blooded male would have popped wood instantly at the sight of her.

Of course, Danny is not a regular guy: his idea of good looks involves thick arms, hard abs, and meat between the legs. He says simply, "Rough day?"

She sighs. "You have no idea," she said.

"Sorry to hear it."

Caroline grabs a thin wire-bristle comb and moves to where Danny sits.

"Scoot," she says as she shoos him backwards with her hand. She sits in front of him on the bed, her back to him. "You can brush my hair."

Danny smiles. "Joy of joys," he says as he runs the comb through long strands of golden hair.

With each stroke, her body jiggles just enough to slacken the towel wrapped around her torso. Caroline can feel the tuck-knot loosening, but does not really care; she is comfortable with her roommate and does not want to move, not with her hair being so pleasantly brushed.

"Talkative," Danny says after a time.

"Just tired," she replies.

"Where's Ted?" he asks.

"Who cares," she states curtly with a dismissive wave of her hand. The movement causes the tuck-knot to unravel completely and the towel falls to a pool around her hips.

Danny glances down at the female body nearly in his lap, at the slender curve of her back as it trails all the way down to her bottom, the crack of which is just barely visible above the bunched-up towel.

"Did you notice, Miss Cassidy," he says casually, "that your towel has fallen off?"

Caroline turns to look at her roommate of almost two years, her brilliant blue eyes commanding his attention. "I noticed," she says. "Does it matter?"

Danny shrugs. "Of course not," he answers. "You're gorgeous and I'm gay, but you, my dear, are a testy one today. The ice queen cometh."

She sighs then, and softens. "Sorry. I'm just wrapped up in a case I can't crack."

And with that she rises to her feet, lost in thought once again, and without meaning to leaves her towel behind. Danny drinks in the sight of his friend: rising from the base of her ankles; up the long, athletic legs tanned golden by hours and hours in the sun; and over her bottom, an upside-down heart-shaped bubble, hiding in the cleft between her cheeks what he figures must be – for the straight guys lucky enough to hunt there—a treasure trove of pleasure. The backside of his friend's body is one of the most beautiful things he has seen in his entire life, and as an aspiring artist, he is one to know what beauty truly is.

"You're gorgeous, Caroline," he whispers.

She swivels on her heels and Danny immediately eyes the fleshy mounds of her breasts: they are exquisite, tear-shaped and full, the pink nipples small and hard, and perfectly placed. For a moment he thinks how unlucky he is to be homosexual in this moment, when the fantasies of untold men stand exposed before him; were he straight, he knows, however such breasts would not be on display for him now.

He looks lower then, and studiously, to the place where her lean legs meet, to the golden tuft of trimmed curls above hairless pink folds. Her lips are shiny in the light, much like the surface of a lake shines beneath a full summer moon. The sight is, in a word, perfect.

"Am I, Danny?" she asks coyly, and just like that the girlish, playful persona, the mischievous and sexual side of Caroline Cassidy so rarely seen by anyone rises, phoenix-like, to the fore.

"Oh, yes," he says.

Caroline grins, twirls, winks, and disappears into her closet, only to return moments later with pink panties covering her nether regions. Her breasts jiggle as she walks, and there is a bounce to her step, a flouncy sashay, that is likewise rare. It has been some time since she's allowed him to see so much of her, and it is always a treat; she knows how much he admires the female form, and how much he appreciates hers. He wonders just when she will allow it again.

"Shirt, please," she asks, her voice still playful and her eyes still twinkling, and Danny tosses her a pink crop-top that lies on the bed. She pulls it over her head, covering the last vestiges of her nakedness, and turns to him with hands on hips and a smile on her face.

"Out," she says. "It's bed time."

And so it was.

<<The Chronicles of Benjamin Merriman #02 by Jack and Josephine Cutter. Future stories starring some or all of these characters are forthcoming. Characters featured herein may also be found in other works by the authors, published or forthcoming. Email feedback to the address in our profile.>>>