Wash

byCarack_in©

"Don't turn around," a voice said firmly.

The sound of running water filled the silence completely and she held her breath, facing the showerhead. The curtain of the shower ran open behind her and then closed again - the runners clicking against each other metallically. Two hands were placed on her shoulders, as if to give a shoulder rub, but they just hung there. Her right hand twitched and moved backwards, just the tiniest amount. Then again, just a fraction of an inch - it took all her will not to move her arms back to her chest. Then it made contact - a light delicate touch with the bare skin of the thigh of the woman behind her. Eventually four of her fingers softly connected with the tight skin. She made slight movements, a little pull upwards and she felt the fine hairs of the front of the thigh, then down. There she stopped, her breath tight in her throat, coming in short nervous rags. Now her fingers moved sideways, the tinniest bit more confidently. Her index finger came to rest very close to the inner surface. The skin was so soft there, so very smooth and delicate. She was very tempted to tickle but instead ran her hand back over the muscular leg to the back surface where the skin was tough and the muscles fibrous. She raised her fingers up the skin achingly slowly, slowly, slowly. She wondered if this leg would ever end, and then the tight dipped curve of the buttocks. Her hand engulfed these and her palm pressed them. She squeezed and massaged the perfect roundness of the womanly bum,

To reach this far back, she had to step closer to the body behind her. She made a little gasp as the breasts made contact with her back. The nipples squashed against her skin and the breasts conformed to the shape of her back. She stroked and cupped the buttock in her hand. Up and down the buttock her hand caressed, discovering all the beautiful curves of femininity, the gentle start from the hips, the leveling slope of the upper surface, the wide and full mid region, the sudden cut under and the sharp tuck to join the thigh. Her finger ran along the fold between thigh and buttock a few times, dangerously close tot he sensitive and expectant hairs. She ran her hand between the cheeks to the tip of the tailbone and no further despite the encouraging groans from behind her.

Eventually her palm ran down the thigh, fingers between the legs, and thumb caressing the tense muscles. Almost to the knee she reached and then around to the front, and lightly stroking the excited skin, made her way upwards.

Her hand ran slowly up the thigh, firm and soft. The skin smooth and slippery in the running water with the traces of soap still on her finger tips. The water was hot and her skin was flushed but the water was not as hot as the flesh quivering under her touch. Up and up she crept, inch by delicate inch over the taught muscles and supple skin, until she reached another place. This was also slippery, but a different kind of slipperiness. It was hot, but a different kind of heat, inviting and radiating. It was wet, but a different kind of wetness. The engorged lips were firm and seemed to kiss at her finger, drawing in inwards, and inwards it went. It slid in easily with the thick slippery juices of excitation. The lips of the mouth gripped at her finger, she could feel her finger's pulse under that pressure. She was now in up to the second knuckle and started - ever so slightly and so very slowly to flex and extend her finger, rubbing the walls encouragingly.

The hands on her shoulders that had been so domineering weakened their grip slightly and the knees behind her buckled for a moment. As she continued the moans started - very quietly, slightly muted. The other woman did not want anyone else in the house to hear, but needed to express her pleasure. The moans were almost whimpers - the voice was filled with desperation, a need to sign deeply, a desire for more.

The right hand slid out from her shoulder to the top of her arm, so as to accommodate her backwards facing arm. The left hand ran down her arm to the inside of her elbow, which was still hanging loose by her side, the fingers leapt across from her elbow to her tense belly. Her breath came in little shudders. The hand rolled around her belly, occasionally brushing her navel, never going near her hair. It then cautiously adventured upwards and slipped carelessly under her breasts, sliding along the under surface. Tantalizing but not satisfying.

Her finger continued its ministrations dutifully and then without warning plunged deeply. There was a stifled scream of surprise and pleasure. In the depths she made it thrash and tug, exiting and diving three times in quick succession and then withdrew. Her finger sat gently on the hot needy lips and waited.

The hand under her breasts also waited. It knew that it had expectations of it - but it was nervous, it was apprehensive; it had never been here before.

Lips landed on her shoulder, very near to her neck. The lips lightly touched, it was almost a kiss, but the most gentle, light kiss she had ever had. Despite the hot water washing over her, goose bumps arose across her neck and back. The hand under her right breast turned over and her breast slipped over the thumb and fell into the cup of the palm. The thumb lifted and brushed past her proud nipple, to gently caress the delicate skin of her breast.

She slowly and tantalizingly reinserted her finger. It went all the way to the hilt and the fingers on either side rubbed the sweet lips. She withdrew again until the lips closed behind her fingertip and then forced her way in again, and again. The lips at her neck came to sit by her ear and the breath was in long gasps. Again and again she slowly pushed her slim finger into the velvety cavern that welcomed her so warmly. The gasps became longer and deeper until they were hardly moving and became breathless cries. The hand grasped her breast and squeezed it. At first the squeezing was exhilarating but as the woman behind her continued to approach her peak the hand tightened.

Finally - long after her wrist and fingers were screaming for release a flood of sweet juice shot into her palm and the chin rested on her shoulder panting. Both hands came to her waist and sat on her hips and gave her a little squeeze, maybe thankfully, more likely congratulatory. The curtains ran open and closed again and the tap in the basin ran as the face was splashed with cold water. A towel was grabbed and the bathroom exited.

She stood in the streaming water - stunned and exhilarated. She knew that nothing else would ever happen. This would never be discussed to or by anyone. In the mind of the woman behind her this had never happened - an almost anonymous environment to do what they could not, but had always wanted.

But of course it did not lead to satisfaction - only further frustration.

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