The House Always Wins - 33. Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

I was about ready to step underneath the hot water when Michael, whom I'd hoped to escape, strolled in and then leaned against the door sill, watching.

"What the f..."

"Don't swear, you're not an Italian waitress," he interrupted. "I wasn't done so we'll continue here."

"Michael...get out!"

"There's nothing about you that I haven't seen before," he replied, shrugging. "I'll stay, thank you. So, your mother...what does she do?"

"Nothing, she's just....a woman. Now would you please leave?"
He ignored it.

"No, I like this much more; you can't hide anything now."

Whatever! Shrugging, I stepped in the shower. But when I risked a glance in his direction, I cursed softly; he'd started to undress himself, threw his clothes on the floor, and stepped inside, joining me.

"What are you doing," I sighed, "Go away, please."
He grinned and took the sponge from my grasp, squirting some liquid soap on it and told me to turn around.

"I have nothing to hide either, so I figured it was only fair," he said, starting to wash my back. "Easier to talk, too. Arms up."
Dejectedly I lifted my arms.

"Alright...so, let's continue. How do you see yourself, ten years from now?"
I couldn't really do anything so I sighed and started to talk.

"I see myself graduated, and with a great job. Have a nice boyfriend, lots of friends, and I want two cats, loads of free time to travel and just have fun; nothing too serious or complicated."
While I gave him the brief explanation, he continued the sponge-bath, all the way down to my feet, occasionally instructing me to do this or that.

"Done. Turn around."
I looked up, a little embarrassed because it hadn't completely left me cold and then turned around, avoiding his eyes. He turned around himself.

"Do me."
Right. I washed his back, his ass and then down to his legs and feet, Finishing those, he turned to face me and I swallowed when I caught a glance of him; he was fully erect. Fully, magnificently, and he looked down, calmly blinking. I wanted to take him on my mouth, then, but I rose and, applying some new soap on the sponge, began to wash my front, feeling a little elated.

He came to stand closer behind me and took the sponge from me again. Sliding his free arm around my waist, Michael slowly began to wash my chest, gently sliding over my belly with the other. He laid his chin on top of my head.

"Do you wish you could go back home and talk to your parents, maybe try and find a way to let them be a part of that life?"
I shook my head.

"No."
I closed my eyes when he continued down my chest when behind me, his cock slipped downward, nestling snug in the crack of my ass.

"I'm not saying never, but it's up to them to make the first move; I've done nothing wrong."
My breathing halted when his hand slipped down and cupped my balls and was then joined by his other hand, beginning to wash between my legs.

What I found out was that when someone else is doing what you normally do yourself, such as washing, it becomes a much more sensitive act, no matter what part of your body.

Michael pressed his lips on my shoulder as he continued, sliding towards my neck and I spread my legs a little to accommodate him.

"Thank you for telling me," he whispered, then kissing my ear.

"Why are you asking me all this," I asked, softly sighing when he finally took me in his hand, gently stroking up and down.

"Shhh... don't talk..."
He pushed his hips forward, rubbing himself tightly against me and then I felt his hand, and then a finger nudging my entrance until it gave way and allowed him in, after several minutes joined by a second. Soft words whispered in my ear made me relax enough; then he took hold of his penis, pushing the blunt tip towards my entrance.

He slid inside of me hard and quick; I gasped, but was ready to receive him. He felt so good, and I started meeting his thrusts half way by pushing back, enjoying the full feeling as he invaded deeper.

His hands slipped down, gliding all over my chest and belly, then finally coming to rest on my hips as he thrust into me at regular intervals. I started to masturbate as I leaned against the cold tiles, moaning softly.

It was an intense experience of lust, and something I couldn't quite put my finger on; it wasn't passion or us being horny, it was something different. It felt different, somehow.

Michael exploded inside of me, unexpectedly and way too soon, a far cry from his usual, lengthy sexual routine, and I felt my own body reacting to it, releasing not long after him.

He stayed with me for a while, adding to my confusion about his behavior; normally he’d withdraw right away. Now he stayed close to me, rubbing his chin over my shoulders and neck, his stubble rasping audibly. And when I turned around after a while, after he finally slipped out, he wrapped his arms around my middle and sought my lips with his.

I was dead tired; having sex standing up is an exhausting experience, and still trying to catch my breath; him going on was definitely not what I expected. It was nice, though, and it brought back the memory of that night. A memory that made me break the kiss abruptly, causing him to frown.

"Something wrong?" he asked, a hand behind my back making maddening circles on my skin.

"Yes," I replied, after giving it some thought, "you. You're acting weird today..."
He smiled mysteriously and nodded slightly.

"I know."

"The questions, the..." I gestured with my head at our surroundings, "sex. Wha...wait a minute. What did you say?"

"I know. You want to know why?"
I nodded.

"You don't get it, do you?" he asked, frowning.

"Get what?"

"This, what we’re doing here; it's not an act anymore, Jason. When these next few weeks are up...I want you to stay. Indefinitely."