I
press myself against his fingers, and in distraction lose track of what
I’m doing. “OWW!” he exclaims suddenly. I pull away. “What is it?” I ask
in slight alarm. He turns around and pulls me back against him. “It’s
okay” he says. “You got a little rough with that fingernail.” “Oh, baby,
I’m sorry!” I’ve forgotten my fingernails before, once causing a slightly
unpleasant sore in a delicate place. “I’ll cut them off.” “No, don’t do
that.” “Well, I don’t want to hurt you like that.” “Just be more
careful.” I giggle.”I’m sorry. It’s sometimes hard to…I forget.”
“Don’t cut them off. Then you wouldn’t be able to scratch my back.” “How
about if I cut the nails off one hand so…” “That would look silly.”

It is short and he is tall, and the contortions he goes through to soak
his hair are amusing to watch. I don’t understand why he doesn’t simply
bend his knees, but I decide not to bother suggesting that. Instead I
get down on my knees and kiss his cock. I pay it some friendly attention
for a few moments, then stand up again. “Okay. I wash you now.” I pick
up the bar of soap and run it over his chest, then change my mind. “No.
Turn around. Your back first.” He turns, and I begin by soaping his
shoulders. I lather his long, pale back, then each of his arms. I soap
his sides and his hips. One soapy hand casually kneads his ass, first
just the plump flesh of his buttocks, then between them. “Yeah” he says.
This is a sure-fire way to get to him, and I know it. Know it, and I love
it. In our short time together, I have learned of many things that he
can’t resist, but this one is absolutely undeniable. “Oh, stick a finger
in me” he requests. I’m getting used to this. I comply, and enjoy how
hot it gets him. He reaches behind him and finds my tenderest spot.