I would play the good girl, get in the shower with him, but I wasn’t done with him, not by a long shot. I dropped my head onto his chest, wrapped my arms around his neck, and allowed him to pick me up. He carried me into the enormous ensuite bathroom he shared with my mother. He turned on the shower and held a hand under the spray until it was warm enough, then ushered me inside, closing the glass door behind us. I watched him fill his hands with soap and rub them together to form a lather. He reached out and began soaping me gently and delicately. He turned me around and began slowly massaging the soap into my shoulders and back. I felt like I was melting under his touch as he worked his way down my back, over my ass, and down the backs of my thighs, lathering and rinsing with great care.
