Page 36 of Meet Stan

“Why don’t you jump in the shower, and I’ll go work on breakfast. My grilled pork chops and grits will soak up the rest of your hangover.”

I smiled. “That sounds great.”

He went to the door, and I cleared my throat.

“Hey, Stan?”

“Yeah?” he turned around, face crossed with concern.

“Thanks for being… you know, respectful while I was, um, inebriated.”

He smiled.

“Don’t mention it.”

He left, and I stripped out of my dirty clubbing clothes. I stepped into his huge bathroom, vaguely remembering that I’d been in there last night. He had a heated toilet seat, and a hot tub, and a walk-in shower with both a stationary head and one on a long serpentine hose.

I turned on the water and waited for it to heat up before stepping into the stream. I used a squirt of soap in my palm to scrub away the sweat and alcohol stink of the night before. It felt amazing, and it was nothing like the shower I had at home. I adjusted the pulsing head, and let it massage the stiffness out of the small of my back.

“Hey.” I heard a knock at the door. “I just wanted to let you know, breakfast is on the table.”

“Sounds great,” I called.

“I’ll just wait in the kitchen,” he said.

I heard his footsteps start to retreat, and I made a spur-of-the-moment decision.

“Stan?”

“Yeah?” his footsteps returned.

“Do you want to come in here and do my back?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. The bathroom door opened and he appeared. He shrugged out of his clothes, and I got my first good look at his naked body. Stan kept himself in incredible shape. He had a swimmer’s physique, long and lean but chiseled out of marble like a renaissance sculpture.

He pulled the door open, and stepped inside. We shared a smile. His eyes danced up and down my naked body. I lifted my arms over my head and squeezed the loofah, letting suds and water splash over my naked breasts.

“This is going to be the dirtiest shower you’ve ever had,” he said, suddenly close. He took me in his arms, our naked bodies pressing into each other. His lips sought my own. I lifted my chin and he kissed me. Tender at first, then growing hotter than the steamy water shooting out of the nozzle.

I felt a tingle throb through my pussy, sending out waves from my clit to spread into other parts of my body. His hand slid down my back, pinky back in the groove. Only this time he kept going, grabbing one of my ass cheeks and pulling it aside. He kneaded the flesh, then suddenly slapped me loud enough to pop. I cried out, muffled by his probing tongue as it ruled my mouth.

Stan’s other hand dropped to my bottom, and he peeled and pried my cheeks apart. I kneaded the muscles on his chest as his cock twitched against me.

“You’re doing a really bad job of washing my back,” I gasped.

He grinned, then forced me to turn away from him. He crouched down behind me, using the handheld showerhead to spray off the layer of slick soap. Stan pushed my thighs apart, then I felt his lips on my pussy.

“Oh god,” I groaned as his tongue slipped inside. A gasp forced its way out of my mouth as buried himself in his work. I splayed my fingers onto the tiled wall and bit my lower lip as he suckled my pussy lips one after the other.

He used his mouth to envelop my clitoral mound, bottom lip stroking over the quivering flesh. Stan sucked, hard, and I let out a guttural groan.

“Your pussy tastes good, Ivy,” he mumbled into my flesh.

I cried out as he worked fingers inside of me. Three entered my pussy, stretching the dripping wet pinkness out wide in preparation for a throbbing cock. His pinkie used all of that pussy juice to lube up my dark star, and soon he began to invade that as well.

He straightened up, sweeping my wet hair away from my shoulders. Stan leaned in and kissed the back of my neck as he worked his fingers in and out of my holes. I moaned as his teeth sank into my shoulder. Then he kissed his way up to my ear, licked the lobe, and then took it prisoner in a firm bite.

“Do you like that?” He growled in my ear.

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