High Heels & Pink Glitter (the heavily edited version)

God in Govan

Avril's rented property, an absurd amount of space for one person, had a wooden slat staircase leading upstairs. Nate followed her, watching the muscles in her buttocks propel her upwards, nerves kicking in at once.

The temporary residence was spotless. It was an old house, but the interior had been gutted to make larger rooms and a modern living space. The downstairs had an open living room/dining space, but the upstairs was unique. There was an atrium just above the landing, with six doors leading off it.

She came to a halt outside the second door on the left. "Can you give me five minutes?"

To do what, he wondered. Clean the bathroom? Apply waterproof makeup? Shave her legs? Perhaps she needed to pee. The mundanity of the latter caused him to relax slightly. He'd tensed up the moment he answered 'okay' to her request. Yes, it was thrilling, but it was also unbelievably terrifying, the idea of making love to someone who was so fantasised about. Talk about performance anxiety.

He allowed her exactly five minutes, timing it with his Fitbit, and then tapped lightly on the door, behind which he could hear water running.

"Come on in."

The room had steamed up from the power shower going at full pelt, so he could only see a hazy, human skin-coloured shape with an auburn mane through the shower door, its back turned to him. She had arranged her clothes on a wicker chair in the room. Nate cautiously removed his, folding them and stacking them neatly on top of hers.

He'd stiffened up while waiting outside, and his engorged cock now protruded from his body like a Priapic statue.

She didn't turn as he opened the shower door and stepped in behind her, merely tipping her head back to rest it on his chest. He tilted his pelvis away, unsure what she'd make of his erection, but she pushed her body back too, a smile on her face.

Close up, she was very thin. He'd known that from their training sessions, but the naked Avril was bony, with all her ribs evident and a sharp jut to her shoulder blades.

He placed his arms around her and muttered, "Avril, you need feeding up," to which she agreed. His hands slid up, seeking out her breasts. Something about them didn't feel right. They were too hard, and he realised she must have had a boob job. Still, they were attractive to look at—perfect, round, and upright, the nipples hardening under his touch and sticking out.

As he continued to play with her nipples and wiggle her bottom against him, she leaned her head back, her chin inclined upwards, and her eyes closed. It was both exquisite and excruciating. She turned to face him after what seemed like an eternity and gripped his cock in her hands. He couldn't see what it looked like since the water continued to gush, but he knew she had very little hands. The feel and thought of them holding onto him made him gasp, and she giggled.

"This isn't terribly practical, is it?" She cocked her head to the side, indicating the shower door, and he nodded in relief, murmuring a hoarse "No, it's...no'."

She reached behind him to switch off the shower and opened the door. The room was warm, but the sudden cessation of water and their exposure to the rest of the room froze them. They both shivered.

Avril reached for two large, fluffy bath towels. He wrapped the one she offered him around her and drew her to him with the ends. He kissed her. She still tasted like white wine and cheese, and her straight white teeth softly bit his bottom lip, the sensation acute and sore but also intense.

He let the towel drop and it fell in an obliging heap at her feet. She sank to her knees and took him in her mouth. The steam had cleared enough from the room to give him a clear vision of what she was doing, her lips moving up and down and her tongue swirling the tip of his cock.