Page 192 of Wicked Fantasies

Troy held her head in place against his chest for a moment as she covered his slick skin with kisses. Finally, he gently tugged her hair, pulling her head back. “Swap places with me,” he said, turning to push her under the jets. “I want to wash your hair.”

Faith closed her eyes as the soothing motions of Troy’s hands working the shampoo into her hair turned her body to pure jelly. “That feels so good. So relaxing.”

He rinsed her hair, and then repeated the process with the conditioner. Trading sides once more, he stood beneath the jets and Faith picked the soap back up. “Time for the front.” She ran her soapy hands down along his chest and arms until she reached his cock. Semi-erect when she started, after two quick swipes from root to head, she had it standing at full attention.

Troy covered her hand with his, increasing the pressure and speed of her strokes. “Have to admit I’m glad to know the old boy is still capable of this kind of workout.”

She giggled. “Worried about that, were you?”

“Well, I am pushing middle age. Sort of nice to know my cock can go for more than one good kick a day.”

He turned slightly so Faith could rinse off the suds before facing her once again, and she tightened her grip around his erection. “I’d say he’s kicking pretty good.”

Before he could reply, she dropped to her knees and took him into her mouth.

“Jesus,” Troy muttered as she engulfed his flesh, moving forward until the head of his cock brushed the back of her throat. She rubbed his cock, using her hand and her mouth to drive him to the brink, but he surprised her by taking her face in his grip and pulling her away.

“Not this time. Stand up.”

Troy gave her a determined, sexy look she immediately responded to. But before she could ask him his plans, he turned, pushing her under the showerhead, facing the wall. The powerful, hot jets of water sluiced down her back as Troy guided her into the position he wanted—pushing her shoulders lower, pulling her ass toward him.

“What do you say to a quickie?”

She looked over her shoulder and grinned. “Go for it.”

Troy pushed into her oh-so ready and willing pussy, slamming to the hilt in one thrust. With a firm grip on her hips, he pulled her toward him as he shoved forward. She used her hands on the wall to brace herself against his intense, but incredible assault. After less than a dozen strokes, she felt her climax begin. Troy joined her, both of them crying out their release as he filled her with his come.

They remained motionless under the water for a few moments, both of them struggling to regain enough strength to move. Finally, Troy pulled out and used a washcloth to wipe away his seed from between her legs.

“Amazing,” she whispered and he grinned.

“Always.”

Turning off the water, they retreated from the shower, taking turns drying each other and then Faith followed Troy, both of them wrapped in the soft white towels provided by the hotel.

“Nap time?” she asked, glancing at the very welcoming bed.

He shook his head. “Wish we could, sweetheart. No time.”

She thought she should feel exhausted after their heated interlude, but he’d spoiled her with surprises and she couldn’t wait to see what he had planned next.

Walking to the closet, Troy pulled out two garment bags she hadn’t noticed hanging there the previous night.

“What are those?”

“Our clothes for the evening.”

She smiled when he laid them across the bed. Unzipping the first one, he grabbed the hanger and lifted out a tuxedo.

“Oh my,” she said, dying to see her casual, never-out-of-jeans husband in the fancy suit. “Hello, James Bond.”

He acknowledged her joke with a grin, and then laid the tuxedo aside, opening the second bag. “And for you.” He revealed a beautiful white dress and for a moment, Faith thought her eyes were playing tricks on her.

“My wedding dress, but it, I mean?—?”

“I smuggled it out from under our bed about a month ago.”

Faith was touched by her husband’s thoughtfulness, but in this instance, his plan had a serious flaw. “Troy. I hate to say this, but there’s no way that dress is going to fit me anymore. I mean that was two kids and at least four dress sizes ago.” While she liked to think she wasn’t exactly fat, she also wasn’t the size eight her husband had married all those years ago either.

---