Justin Bieber/Jason McCann Imagines | Book One

Watching

Merry Christmas! I hope you're all having a wonderful day💗

I watch her sometimes, if not every time she steps foot in the shower. I'll be brushing my teeth or shaving, or even just sitting on the closed toilet lid and clearly watching her, and she never seems to mind.

It brings me joy knowing she's comfortable enough to bare her all in front of me; confident that no flaws or insecurities will be arisen in conversation.

She's beautiful when she's naked. Her boobs are round and full, and bounce as she steps into the shower. Her behind is level with my face and I find myself licking my lips. I can hear soft hums as the shower is brought to life, it's become a familiar sound to me and I've come to adore it.

I don't try and make it subtle when I'm watching her. I'm watching and she knows, I think she secretly loves how entranced I am by her because she's started paying a lot more attention to her soft strokes on her skin lately.

First, she'll wet her hair, turning the soft strands - that I love to twirl around my fingers while I lay behind her in the early morning - into damp tangles with a straw-like texture. Her hair would cascade down her back, missing her drooping shoulders. The water droplets would abandon her hair and smash onto the shower floor, only to dance around the plug hole before disappearing.

My eyes move down her body and I can see the tiny drips of water sliding down her smooth body, they venture down the curve of her boobs and lick at her nipples, I feel a sense of envy as I lick my lips once more. The surface of her skin is decorated in a pattern of water drops.

I'll smile at her when she looks at me, noticing the way her cheeks turn a subtle pink under the steaming hot water. Her face is foggy and distorted behind the glass, and I struggle to actually know if she's looking at me.

It's peaceful like this, and I find it to be one of my favourite times of the day. I'm sad when she tells me she isn't going to be showering, and I have to refrain from asking her to just so I can sit and admire her.

She's flawed but appears flawless, always. But seeing her so vulnerable and open to the water makes her even more so. I could fall asleep watching her shower.

It's not necessarily sexual, either. Of course, I adore the way her nipples harden against the cold as she undresses, and I find myself wanting nothing more than to do unspeakable things with her while the shower head watches from above, but I'm happy to sit, watch and do nothing else to get pleasure. At first, I would slyly rub myself through my boxers or my shorts (whatever I'm wearing that day) but eventually, I found I received great pleasure in simply watching her.

There were times I'd watch her touch herself, it told me she was comfortable both around me, and in herself, and I smiled but also felt my body tense. She would let her hands run freely across her nipples or let her fingers kiss her clit. Although, she never gets as far as the sweet release she's craving, hence why around an hour later, I'm usually on top of her, penetrating her and giving her what she wants.

It's nice to just sit and watch her; usually, I was so close to her I wasn't able to truly appreciate her beauty so when I was able to sit back and let her do her thing and able to see every inch of her, I took advantage.

She's showering now. Her arms are running through her hair and I can see the calm in her face while the water hits her. I want to be inside with her, running my hands through her hair. But I don't move. The only way I'll let myself passed the glass door is if she asks me to.

But I'm eager, eager to touch her and caress her soapy skin, feeling her shiver under my touch. It feels as though it's been forever since I've had her, or even just been able to be close to her.

She looks over at me and her eyes are filled with mishief. I can see her hand slip between her legs and she grins. I'm fascinated and completely anticipating her next move. I sit, waiting. Watching.