Lying in bed one contemplated a shower verbally. To be honest the contemplation was more along the lines of reluctance to leave the bed vs. the need to get clean. So are you going to pee for me, He asked. Umm... don't think so... well it was more of a question... though in truth His voice didn't go up at the end of the sentence. He gave one the look that indicated that was the wrong answer, and sighing one shuffled out of the nice warm bed reluctantly.
In the bathroom one opened the shower door and reached for the tap. No, was the firm command. But... it's cold and a little warm water... Seeing His face the whining trailed off into a gloomy resignation and one stepped into the shower. The slightly rough floor tiles were icy underfoot and so were the wall tiles... even the glass was cool to touch... and all of it was beaded with water from where He had showered just minutes before. Positioning oneself gingerly so as to not come into contact with any of this one turned to face Him.
Squat a little, I want to see you properly. Now spread your lips, He ordered. Doing as told one concentrated on peeing for Him. Finally it started to gush out, warm and golden, splattering everywhere due to that complete lack of directional aim one is blessed with. Nice, He murmured stroking his hard on. Are you ready, He asked? Nodding one moved closer, knelt and offered up a pair of warm breasts as a target... or a tray. He came with a satisfied grunt and washing his hands left...
Leaving one covered in an assortment of bodily fluids and wondering how to put on a shower cap, clean ones hands and simultaneously not get caught in the initial icy blast of cold water... which the shower does with a great deal of enthusiasm L
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