Winter cometh

Handing Him the soap one turned to face the tiled wall. He carefully suds up his hands and dove into ones arse... 

Wrong end one cried in disbelief... seriously everyone knows that handing someone the soap is code for please massage the shoulders. Or was that not in the Owner Handbook?

Smirking He said it felt like the right end from here.

Shoulders one demanded in an imperious tone...

And for a few glorious moments He complied... well until his hard on got involved in the negotiations. It took no prisoners nor did it have any interest in shoulders. Instead it separated one's cheeks with a precision and force that took one's breath away. In fact as He plunged in with enough power to mash a cheekbone up against the tile, all one could do was emit an occasional, stifled groan.

The damn thing was still tender from the reaming it got yesterday... and the day before that.

His response was to grab one more firmly by the hips and drive in deeper and deeper until with a stifled roar he came and one could feel cum being injected in a pulsating stream.

Later one commented that we would have to enjoy this sex in the shower while we could.

He gave one that blank look.

Um... it's getting nippy in the mornings in case you haven't noticed.

He upped the blank look with a shake of the head.

One of us ends up not under the water one replied in an exasperated tone. It gets damn cold.

A slow smile spread across His face yes, but it won't be me getting cold will it.

Bastard!