The shower hissed steadily, steam curling into every corner of the cramped bathroom.
Nash sat in the small square tub, knees pulled in, the bright tile walls closing in around them.
Zayela stood under the spray, her back to him, a sponge in one hand. Water streamed over her skin in thin, glistening sheets, tracing every curve with care.
His eyes followed the path of the water as it slid down the slope of her shoulders, rolled over the deep curve of her spine, and pooled briefly in the small of her back.
The soap bubbles clung to her before spilling over the swell of her hips. Her ass, round, firm, a perfect balance of softness and shape, moved subtly with each stroke of the sponge.
Water and suds split over each cheek, joining again between her thighs in a way that made his throat tighten.
He swallowed hard. His cock was already painfully stiff, pulsing against the water's heat, but he forced himself still.
