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us warm. Great! There was a separate bathtub too, one I couldn't wait to try out with him.

The mirror was huge, and initially, I shied from it, not wanting to stare at my body in such unflattering light. But I forgot about all of that once Jack dropped his robe. God, he was so hot, even in my sleep deprived state. His muscles were perfectly toned, his butt tightening as he lifted the robe onto a hook. He reached for mine and I handed it to him.

Although last night had happened, this was our first time being fully naked around each other in ample lighting. I tried to match his self-confidence—or was he just that comfortable around me?—but I figured it was still obvious that I was nervous.

"Relax," he said.

"Huh?" I would try to play it cool until I had no other options.

"You're shaking, and that means one of two things—it's really cold in here, or you're nervous. If you're cold in this bathroom, I think I need to take you to the hospital."

I started laughing, instantly forgetting my insecurities. Jack grabbed me and kissed me, his erection resurfacing the very second our tongues touched. The thought and sight of his arousal were waking me even more than caffeine would have.

We climbed into the two-person shower, spending more time hugging than washing. It was great to feel water from both sides. "Do you use both heads when you're in here alone?" I asked.

"Only if I'm feeling wasteful," he said proudly.

We playfully lathered each other up, his hands spending an incredibly disproportionate amount of time on my breasts and ass and running out of soap before he reached anywhere else Every circle with the loofa only served to make him harder. I thought about what he had done for me in the suite, how I felt as if we were currently uneven in terms of sexual giving and receiving.

I reached down and stroked him slowly, pressing my breasts against his side. Gently, I pumped, trying to gauge his response. He seemed to freeze up in terms of shower responsibilities, overwhelmed by pleasure as his breath immediately quickened.

"That's so good, Effie." He leaned against the nearest wall to support himself, his arm flexed and tensed. I watched as his abdominal muscles responded to my touch, tightening and then loosening as I worked.

I did long, flowing strokes that were interspersed with more rapid movements against his engorged tip. And then, he reached down and stopped my hand. "I want those beautiful lips around my cock."

"Jack, I'm just not that—"

"Try it. You'll do great, I know it." His encouragement seemed to be authentic, not just a product of his lust.

I was semi-inexperienced when it came to blowjobs. It had come up a few times in the past, but it was never a regular thing. Plus, he had touched me so perfectly, his efforts skilled far beyond what I was. It wasn't crazy, just new. I wanted to do a great job and that made me tense.

But I simply couldn't say no to him—my body wouldn't permit that. I broke the spell of inaction and lowered to my knees, hungrily taking him into my mouth, sucking and spiraling along the head. His hips slowly rocked with me, as if he were fucking my mouth. His taste was intoxicating, the saltiness dancing along my taste buds.

I traced along every vein, every ridge, every bump. His breath seemed to sync up with my movements as the water continued to spray us with warmth. I pressed his length against the roof of my mouth, toying with it while maintaining the pressure.

I wanted to touch myself so badly, but I also wanted to give him the best I could, the two things mutually exclusive as I knew from experience. I resisted the urges no matter how strong they grew. This was all for him, oh yes.

Jack's moans grew in intensity, climbing in volume as well. Whether I was great or not, he was definitely liking this. That made me feel good.

"Oh God, I'm gonna come," he growled. Suddenly overwhelmed by my inexperience—and immense fear that I would somehow mess up this very raw moment—I pulled away and finished him with my hand. His cock twitched again and again as thick white ropes of semen shot out of him onto my chest. His body seemed to tighten up entirely, his muscles only moving as more of his seed emerged.

"Oh God, Effie," he cried out.

It was his sex, his pent up lust for me, spilling onto my skin. The water washed most of it away as soon as it hit me. I loosened my grip and slowed my strokes as he came down from his climax, trying to quit before he became hypersensitive. I knew about that part, at least.

"You don't need to worry," he said suddenly. "That was perfect." He knew I had panicked, yet he had no complaints.

I was burning between my thighs at that point, but I wasn't about to say anything. Knowing that I had made him feel so good was enough, even if my body was begging for more. This had been a gift, one that didn't require any reciprocation.

But Jack pulled me up to his level and kissed me right away, pressing me against the shower wall, positioning my body just right. A few short minutes later, his brilliant fingers were against my clit and I was coming.

***

I made it to work on time—the cab ended up having to sit outside while I haphazardly threw on some work clothes; thankfully Jack picked up the whole fare—and almost spit out my coffee when I saw the dollar-store greeting card sitting on my desk.

In a fit of confusion, I ripped it open. There was a cat on the front, wearing a Santa hat. Beneath it, the card said "Meowy Christmas!" I choked back laughter. This was the polar opposite of the other gifts he had been giving me, the cheesiest card I had ever received.

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