(3)

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She always found him ridiculously beautiful. He was tall, definitely over 6 feet, built of nothing but sleek muscle and cut like fine diamonds. His shoulders were broad and he moved like a man possessed. It was like watching art unfold before your eyes. Yet, for all his masculinity, there was something about him that was oddly feminine. She could see it in his hair, his thick dark silky hair, in the high bridge of his nose, in the curve of his lips.

And in the way he submitted to her.

She watched as he stood in the shower, her shower, rinsing shampoo out of his hair. Steam had gathered on the glass that was separating them, making the lines of his body blurry. "What a shame," she thought. A body like his only existed to feed obsession.

She let her silk robe fall to her feet before she slid the shower door and stepped in the stall. He hadn't heard her, his back still to her and she seized the opportunity to slide her hands around his waist and plant a kiss on his wet shoulder.

"Hi," he welcomed her.

"Hi."

Her hands went to roam all over him, running up and down his stomach, grazing his pectorals and caressing his abs. He didn't stop her and she knew he never would; he was far too docile. His skin was soft, still slightly soapy and by the time she reached his rod, she found him to be hard already. She smiled against his shoulder. Of course, he would be.

He moaned when she very gently glided her index finger over his member, caressing its whole length a few times, with a touch so subtle he wanted to scream. The tip of his cock was wet with precum and the torture of her slowly rubbing the flat of her thumb against it was making him weak in the knees. Every fibre in his body was screaming at him to face her, lift her up and fuck her hard against the cold tiled shower wall.

But she was his domina and her wish was his command.

He felt her right foot slide between his ankles and she gave a little tap. Obediently, he spread his legs and brought his hands flat against the wall before him, the water now hitting him on the back. Her hand that was continuing its torture of his hard rod moved to his hip, pulling his ass against her. It was all very slow, very controlled and he could tell his breathing was getting shallow. She was going to do something to him, he hadn't a clue what, yet he was full of anticipation. She fumbled with something and before he could wonder any longer, he felt something sticky fall between his buttocks and slide over to his asshole.

Dear. God.

He knew this would come eventually, and he'd been waiting for it, anticipating it. His dick twitched and he felt uneasy for a second, overwhelmed. Would he like it? Would he be able to handle it? What did she even have in mind? The mumbo jumbo in his head was cut short when he felt one of her hands settle on his tailbone.

"Relax," she whispered before planting a kiss on his back. "I'll be gentle."

He could feel her breath on his skin and it somehow reassured him. Her other hand gripped him on the hip, softly and pulled him towards her a tad more. He felt bare and exposed but the feeling didn't linger. One of her fingers followed the lube's sticky trail, all the way down to his balls, which she fisted and gently played with.

"I'll be gentle," she promised again, before bringing her hand up between his buttocks then back down to his ballsack again. She repeated the movement a few times, each time using her thumb to rub his anus. He was getting hot, impatient and he let out a moan when her hand that was once on his hip slithered down to his cock. While still teasing him from the back, she started masturbating his hard on, her tiny fist barely wide enough to wrap around the whole thing. He watched, his mouth agar, as her hand slid up and down his rod, slightly twisting, in a perfectly rhythmic motion. His nerves were all awake and he was all too aware of her knuckle now rubbing his asshole. This was it. She was going to penetrate him, she was going to finger him and he was going to love it. He knew. He loved every single thing she did to him.

"Please," he begged. He wasn't sure what he was begging for exactly. He needed her to do something, anything, to relieve him. His cock was throbbing and every time she would use the flat of her hand to rub his tip, he felt like he was getting closer and closer. "Please," he pleaded again.

And his request was granted.

Her left hand still jerking him, she slowly pushed a finger inside of him. He was so tight and she paused for a second, letting him get used to the feeling. He was breathing heavy, his ribcage pushing against the muscle on his back. Carefully, she started moving her finger, in a tapping motion, against what she guessed to be his prostate.

"Fuck," she heard him groan. She had guessed right.

Still with the same care, she switched the tapping to a rubbing motion and he moaned louder. Her left hand was still at work, pumping and twisting and she could tell he was about to collapse.

She didn't want him to have too much too fast. So she pulled her finger out of his rectum and watched as the muscle around it contracted then relaxed.

"No," he whimpered. He pushed his ass towards her, eager and hungry for more. "Please."

With a satisfied smile, she returned her finger to his anus and caressed its rim. She loved how eager he was, how he was giving himself to her wholly. In a swift motion, she grabbed the bottle of lube and squirted some more on his asshole. His breath trembled, and she chose that moment to push her finger back inside of him, going straight for his P-spot. She curled her finger towards his navel and stroked the area, in a come whither manner.

"Oh God," he mustered. He was coming undone, his head lowered, his chest lifting heavily. "Don't ..s...stop.."

Normally, she wouldn't let him talk to het that way. Beg her, ask her to do his biding. But she had sneaked up on him in the shower and shoved her finger up his ass. She was going to let him have it, this time around.

"Next time," she whispered against the skin of his shoulder, "what do you say I make you wear a butt plug."

He moaned her name as her left hand picked up its pace, her fist tight around his hard cock, her finger still teasing him from behind.

"And the time after that, anal beads. How does that sound?"

He nodded but she was pretty sure he was barely processing what she was telling him anymore. He was a mess, and oh so close.

"Can I come?" He asked in a groan. At least, he still remembered who owned his orgasms.

She smiled.

"Yes."

She didn't need to say it twice. 

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