Soon, he turned his attention to my chest. "This area needs a more personal touch."
I made a little noise of encouragement, my body already yearning for him to accelerate proceedings.
Squeezing more soap onto his hands he began to massage my breasts. The sensation of them sliding between his fingers, his slickened skin against mine, was exquisite. Judging by the low rumble emanating from the darkness, he was enjoying it too.
He picked up the sponge again to work my stomach, back, and legs, lathering me with a thick layer of suds that he made no effort to wash off. I soon learned why when the stream of water suddenly vanished from above, only to reappear moments later in front of me. I hadn't realised that shower head was detachable.
"I've heard it said that a shower head is a girl's best friend," Sebastian murmured.
"I've never had the chance to try one," I replied, although I was already beginning to believe it might be true. You'd think after a life time of showers, you'd pretty much understand what they're capable of. They're pleasant, soothing, warming, but that's about the extent of it. Only in Sebastian's hands, this became something else entirely. The way he danced the jet across my skin, constantly alternating the pressure, distance, and angle, was incredible. I don't know if it was just the sensuality of the experience, or the darkness, or Sebastian's expert technique, but it left my entire body tingling.
"Then allow me." With obvious relish, he began working his way slowly down my torso, meticulously washing every part. The closer he drew to my aching sex, the more I began to squirm.
"Widen your stance," he ordered, and then suddenly, the stream was between my legs.
"Oh Jesus," I cried. The warmth of it, the relentless rhythm, was like nothing I'd ever experienced before. It was like a thousand tiny fingers, all stroking me at once, and they weren't easing me towards orgasm, they were hurling me through the door as fast as humanely possible.
While the water strummed my clit, he leaned in close, bracing my ass with one hand and drawing my nipple into his mouth, swirling and sucking and nipping softly. I felt my knees begin to buckle, but he held me firmly, bringing the nozzle closer still. The stimulation was almost too much — it rode that impossibly thin line between pleasure and discomfort — but I was beyond caring. Already, everything was beginning to tighten inside me. It was like I could feel each and every drop of water vibrate all the way into my core.
"I'm coming, Sebastian. I'm coming."
He let out an affirmative grunt and sealed his mouth over mine as my climax took hold. Everything seemed to shrink away, then explode outward in a giant, rolling wave of ecstasy. I was glad he was supporting me, because I'm quite sure I would have ended up splayed on the tiles, if he hadn't been.
"So, there may be some merit to that rumour," he said, my body sagging against his.
"I believe so," I replied. "Especially if you're pressed for time. What was that, one minute?"
He laughed. "Something like that."
I felt utterly drained, but being pressed up against him again reminded me that only half our bargain had been fulfilled. "I think it may be my turn with that," I said, fumbling along his arm until I found the shower head. "I'm not the only one that needs a thorough wash."
"If you insist."
Partly out of a desire for revenge, but mostly because I wanted to savour his body, I took my time, painstakingly soaping and rinsing every inch of him. I was getting used to my blindness now, used to the amplified sense of touch it lent me. In the past, with the blindfold, I'd always been in a position of submission, but here I was free to explore. I loved the way his body felt in the water, hard and soft and slick all at once. With only my hands to guide me I roamed across his skin, running them gently over the firm rises of his triceps, the thick slabs of his chest, revelling in every perfect ridge.
Even in the dark, I was constantly aware of his cock. Every so often as I shifted position it would graze against me, sending a bolt of lust shooting through my veins. I enjoyed those little moments of contact, the sharp breaths and soft noises they drew from him.
Soon, I abandoned soap and water all together, slipping in close until my face was against his chest. "I have a special cleaning implement I think would be very effective on you," I purred.
"Is that so?" he said, more than a little strain evident in his voice. I could tell he was close to breaking point.
"It is. Allow me to show you."
Wrapping my hands around the hard globes of his ass, I drew his nipple into my mouth. He gasped and rocked against me, pushing his shaft firmly against my stomach. I teased him like that for half a minute, but soon, I was unable to contain myself any longer. Kissing a trail down his stomach I dropped to my knees and seized his length in my hand. He felt impossibly thick, and seemed to be growing more with every passing moment. I loved how, even with no visual stimulation, he was utterly ready for me; a perfect picture of virility.
He let out a long groan as I took him into my mouth, pumping him from the base and sliding my lips up and down with painstaking slowness. He felt fleshy and soft and I took my time tasting every inch of him, dragging my tongue along the trembling ridge underneath. Heat rushed through his shaft as he swelled further still, but I took it in stride, gradually easing him deeper down my throat.
"Your lips are fucking magic," he said.
I loved being in that position. It was submissive, yet utterly empowering. For the first time since we'd started, I wished the lights were on. I wanted to look at him, to see the pleasure I was giving, to watch his face contort as I gradually brought him undone.
His fingers found my head, tightening around my hair, guiding me and quickening my pace, and for a while I gave control over to him.
Eventually, an idea came to me. "I wonder if this is just for women," I mused, pulling back momentarily, and before he could reply, I aimed the jet of water at his balls and resumed sucking him. The effect was instantaneous. He sunk back against the wall, a long, throaty sound falling from his mouth. Continuing to stroke him with one hand, I began experimenting with the shower head, teasing every part of him as he had me.
"Fuck, Sophia, that's incredible. Don't stop."
Sensing that he was close, I focused my efforts, locking my lips just below his crown and stroking rapidly, keeping the shower head focused strong and close. His body stiffened and he let out a single guttural roar, then spurted down my throat. His orgasm seemed to last forever, and I pumped furiously, milking every drop.