MASSIMO's CONTROL

I climbed the stairs two at a time, coat already half-off, shirt unbuttoned by the time I reached my bedroom. I kicked the door shut behind me, stripped out of everything in seconds-trousers, briefs, socks, shoes-leaving a trail of dark fabric across the floor.
The bathroom lights came on automatically, cold and clinical.

I turned the shower to scalding, stepped under the spray, and braced both hands against the black tile wall.

Water pounded my back, steam rising fast.
And then she was there-in my head, vivid, inescapable.

Soft pink lips parted in a tiny gasp when I'd kissed her. That small, hesitant mouth-barely able to take two of my fingers when I'd fed them to her during the kiss-trying to stretch around the thick head of my cock. I could picture it perfectly: her wide honey eyes looking up at me, innocent and uncertain, lashes wet, cheeks flushed, not knowing whether to suck or lick or simply wait for instruction.