Thinking in the Shower

He wakes up, once more greeting the day at the same time he has for many years. Although it has been known to happen, it is rare for him to sleep beyond 6am. He’d always been an early riser and never really required more than 4 to 6 hours of sleep at the most. However, these days, he finds himself going to sleep early than ever before. Perhaps he’s trying to escape into his dreams, or perhaps he’s simply tired after so many weeks of non-stop action. Whichever the case may be, he had managed to sleep close to 8 hours the night before, and he was feeling it too.

The stiffness in his knee from so many hours of non-movement made it difficult to stand. The pain of trying to stretch it out was almost unbearable at first, but after a few seconds, he was able to get up for the day. All the while second-guessing, and not for the first time, his decision not to have knee surgery 20 years prior. But, such is life, and he can still walk…so, there is that at least.

Turning on the hot water in the shower and waits. Testing it with his hand until it reaches the proper temperature that he desires…close to scalding. Once satisfied, he steps into the shower, lets the water run over his shoulders and works the kinks out of his right shoulder. Just another war wound, he thinks to himself, age is just a number, it’s the mileage that counts. He has lost track of the number of times he has dislocated that shoulder. All he knows is that he loves the feeling of the water pulsating against his flesh, massaging his shoulder like hundreds of tiny fingers.

He sighs, tilting his head under the water, and loses himself to his thoughts…

He can feel her there in the shower with him, pressing her body against his back. Her soft breasts pushing against his flesh while her hands roam over his body. He can feel them working his flesh, lathering him with soap. Her hands starting from his chest, and moving downward, making small circles as they slip even lower.

Placing his hands against the tile wall, as she reaches between his legs. Her soft hands running over him, grasping his semi-erect shaft and stroking him. Cupping his balls and rolling them in her hand, she slowly teases him until he’s fully erect.

Her hands working in rhythm, she strokes him steadily, while the other continues to roam. Stepping back from his body slightly, she traces his ass cheeks, and slides her hand lower spreading his legs further apart. Then, slips her fingers down his crack and cups his balls once more.

All the while, she whispers in his ear, telling him how he feels in her hand while steadily stroking him. His thick shaft is growing even thicker in her hand, as his balls grow heavy with need. Sensing his pending release, her fingers leave his balls and traces back between his legs, covering his skin with the soapy lather.

Just as he’s about to explode, she pushes her slick, soapy finger deep into his ass. With a loud moan and a startled growl, he slips over the edge and begins to cum. The explosive release seems to never end as she squeezes him with her hand and wiggles her finger in his ass simultaneously…leaving him weak in the knees, and thankful for tile wall holding him upright.

He finishes his shower, spent from his own self-administered release, the hot water cascading over his shoulders…

~~~~
© AC Elliott, 31-Jul-18

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An Angel in Flight (Angelic Cries #5)

angelic wings clipped
she struggles internally
longing to be free,
yet, longing to be held
captive,
a complexity
in and of itself
she needs both, and neither
at the same time
and so, partially mended
she takes flight
leaving it all behind

~~~~
© AC Elliott, 27-Jul-18

Originally written in 2015, this is the fifth out of a five part of a series of poems that I had written previously over a couple years. This series has always been a favorite of mine, and I thought I would share them once more while I am working on other projects.

*Picture from Pinterest, artist unknown.