Hot water streams over her head and down her back. Steam rapidly fills the small bathroom. Breathing slowly and deeply, she shakes the fog from her mind. A faint smile at the prospect, her hands slide slowly over skin now warm and slippery from the soapy lather.

Abruptly she turns, places her back firmly against the tile wall and lifts her left leg, bracing it against the glass shower stall. Razor in hand she drags it unmercifully from ankle to thigh in one sure stroke. Again and again she rakes away the day’s stubble. She moves the blade higher and higher with deliberate caution, and tends to the folds and mounds surrounding her female essence.

She sits on the edge of the bed facing the panel of mirrors on the closet doors. With bottle in hand she starts the ritual again. The coldness of the lotion shocks her skin alive. Fingers gently caress her calves and thighs as she thinks of how he will have her tonight. The scent of Arabian Sandalwood rises with her heat…feels his arms pinning her wrists to the bed as he runs his short beard across her cheek and downward…stopping to bite her neck, shoulders and breasts in the way he knows sets her juices flowing.

She wonders just how much she can give, but at the same time remembering her hot flesh yielding entirely too easily at his explorations. There is power in the rawness of their sex. How much deeper can her pleasure grow? Where will he bring her to this time? What boundaries can she push? How much can she surrender? Can she ever totally surrender?

The muscles in her legs and ass tighten as she feels impending release. Her mind screams a mental slap of her hand. Save it for later…all in good time…

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