Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
With dark thoughts clouding my mind, I got into the shower, and immediately fell in love with everything about it.
It was one of those walk-in showers without a door, and towards the back there was a showerhead, two of those jet thingies, one on both of the side walls, and a large rain showerhead that hung in the center of the ceiling.
Only the regular showerhead was on, but I looked at the control panel that was at chest level with curiosity.
There were numbers, buttons and dials.
It was like something from the future.
The first button I pushed changed the water temperature.
My eyes turned to look at the knobs that were across the space, and I smiled.
Though this one was less hot than I would’ve liked, I didn’t push any other buttons that had numbers. Those must be pre-set numbers.
The next button I pushed had dashes and lines, which apparently worked the jets.
One jet turned on and hit me in the belly, while the other came on second…shooting straight into my ass.
Though I guessed that it was likely positioned to hit right around the area where Tommy’s thighs would be.
I just turned to the side and left the jets on, curious now what the other buttons did.
The next two I pressed turned on the rain head and started the jets pulsing.
And by the time I got to the last button, I was convinced that when I finally got to the point where I could build a bathroom like the one I was standing in, I was going to put a shower very similar to this in.
A, because it was one of the coolest things I’d ever seen, and B, because it was one of the best things I’d ever felt in my life.
By the time I washed my hair—with Tommy’s shampoo since I’d forgotten to grab the girly stuff out of the cabinet after the condom fiasco—and soaped up my body, I was fairly certain I could live a good life right here in the shower for the rest of my days.
My eyes lit on the razor in the corner notch of the shower, and I bit my lip as I lifted it off the ledge.
I couldn’t not shave. I had to shave. It was imperative that I did.
Why? Because I hadn’t done so in well over two days now, and Tommy had said he’d grab me a t-shirt.
I couldn’t wear just a t-shirt around the man with my leg hair long enough to feel.
I just couldn’t.
And I didn’t.
I used the soap—that also smelled manly and spicy—and shaved, unbelievably astounded at how well a man’s razor worked compared to a woman’s.
I was going to have to start buying men’s razors if they worked as good as this one did.
And oh, God. Having the water pulsing into my sore thighs as I shaved, and the warmness of the shower surrounding me, I was very reluctant to get out.
And probably would have stayed in a few minutes longer had a knock not sounded at the door.
Unenthusiastically, I turned the shower off, and made my way out as I called, “Yes?”
“I grabbed you a change of clothes.”
My heart started to beat a million miles an hour.
“Thank you,” I said as I reached for the towel.
Oh, God. It was warm.
My eyes went to the bar, and I realized it was one of those warming towel bars that kept the towels warm forever and always. Whenever you wanted to shower, it was there, waiting for you.
I could seriously get used to this!
I’d just gotten the towel partially covering my breasts—and I say partially because my nipples were still exposed—when the door opened and Tommy’s arm appeared.
“Eeep!” I squeaked, reaching instinctively for the clothes he was holding out.
He’d been looking down at the floor to ensure that he didn’t accidentally see my body, but the weird noise I made caused his eyes to flicker up, and then become frozen on my body.
I had big boobs.
Really big boobs.
In fact, they were still big because I was breastfeeding, and they’d not been small to begin with.
“I’ll just be, uhh, out here,” he murmured.
I cleared my throat and clutched the clothes to my chest, but before I could blink, he was gone.
I looked down at my chest to see just how much boobage he actually got, and yep…there was full nipplage.
Perfect.
Just fucking perfect.
And the icing on the cake?
My fucking milk was dripping out of them.
Just wonderful.
Though it always happened while I was in the shower, something about the hot water and my milk letdown, I’d never had it happen when someone was there to see it.
Full of mortification, I got dressed in the clothes he provided me—which weren’t much.
A faded black t-shirt that smelled like him, and a pair of boxer briefs.
Yes, a pair of his underwear.
That fit.
They were surprisingly comfy, though.