thought he should keep his shoulder down as he hit the ball.
She moved behind him to demonstrate and got close enough that she could smell him. He was completely sweaty, yet he didn’t smell bad at all. She actually liked his scent. As Brian brought his hand back, she grabbed his arm and demonstrated the recommended changes to his stroke. Their bodies were pressed together, and as they looked each other in the eye, they shared some kind of quick moment. They both felt it, but Jillian cleared her throat, let go of his arm, and took a half-step backward.
She said, "So, um, that’s how I think you should... uh..."
A little flustered, Brian looked at her and struggled to avoid popping a full boner right there in front of her, even though it wouldn't have been anything she hadn't already seen. He bounced the ball, tried her swing suggestions, and blasted a shot over the net.
"You see?" Jillian said with a bright smile.
"Thanks for the tip. I’ll work on that," he said as he rushed over and sat on the bench, covering his lap with a towel.
Joining him on the bench, she grabbed her bottle of water and poured a little down the back of her neck. She placed the cold bottle to her forehead, glanced at Brian, and licked her lips. She closed her eyes and flashed back to a minute earlier, when their hot bodies were pressed up against each other; she was momentarily overcome by the memory. After fanning her hand at her face, she poured a splash of water down her front, just as Brian glanced at her. He watched, mesmerized, as the water slowly slid between her breasts. His eyes widened as his heart sent blood to his cheeks… and other places.
He stood up quickly. "I’d better go take a shower. It’s really hot out here. Uh, thanks again for the lesson."
While watching him go, she poured the rest of the water down her front.
In the guest room bathroom, Brian stripped off his sweaty clothes, set the water to a cool temperature, and climbed into the shower. Exhausted, he stood there letting the water stream over his body. He looked down and saw that despite the cool water, he was evidently still thinking about Jillian. He thought about the previous night, how Jillian, while under the influence, had come clean about her voyeuristic morning. He could not erase from his brain the image of her proud unveiling of her personal design choice. He found himself unable to resist...
Jillian stood outside the guest room, eyeing the door and longing to kiss him, to touch him, and to shower with him. She didn’t have a plan, but she was desperate for at least one more glimpse. She figured she should probably make sure he had enough towels. That would be the proper thing to do, she thought, although a towel restock was usually better done when your guest was fully clothed. Regardless, it still needed to be done, she kept telling herself.
After grabbing a towel from the linen closet, she knocked lightly on the door and called Brian’s name. When there was no reply, she slowly opened the door. She entered the room, heard the shower running, and saw that the door to the adjoining bathroom was open. She heard the uneven sounds of water hitting the shower floor that told her he was actually in the shower and not just standing outside, waiting for the water to reach the proper temperature. She tiptoed to the doorframe and peered through the inch-wide opening on the hinge side, which gave her a clear line of sight to the glass-enclosed shower.
A towel was draped over the clear glass door and hung down just enough to block her view of Brian’s chest and upward. The glass was clean and fog-free, and it provided her a perfect view of him as he showered. But he wasn’t showering; he was touching himself. With his left hand, he had a death grip on the towel that hung over the shower door, and he worked himself with his right. Jillian followed the bulging muscle in his right shoulder to the equally-flexed bicep, down to his straining
She moved behind him to demonstrate and got close enough that she could smell him. He was completely sweaty, yet he didn’t smell bad at all. She actually liked his scent. As Brian brought his hand back, she grabbed his arm and demonstrated the recommended changes to his stroke. Their bodies were pressed together, and as they looked each other in the eye, they shared some kind of quick moment. They both felt it, but Jillian cleared her throat, let go of his arm, and took a half-step backward.
She said, "So, um, that’s how I think you should... uh..."
A little flustered, Brian looked at her and struggled to avoid popping a full boner right there in front of her, even though it wouldn't have been anything she hadn't already seen. He bounced the ball, tried her swing suggestions, and blasted a shot over the net.
"You see?" Jillian said with a bright smile.
"Thanks for the tip. I’ll work on that," he said as he rushed over and sat on the bench, covering his lap with a towel.
Joining him on the bench, she grabbed her bottle of water and poured a little down the back of her neck. She placed the cold bottle to her forehead, glanced at Brian, and licked her lips. She closed her eyes and flashed back to a minute earlier, when their hot bodies were pressed up against each other; she was momentarily overcome by the memory. After fanning her hand at her face, she poured a splash of water down her front, just as Brian glanced at her. He watched, mesmerized, as the water slowly slid between her breasts. His eyes widened as his heart sent blood to his cheeks… and other places.
He stood up quickly. "I’d better go take a shower. It’s really hot out here. Uh, thanks again for the lesson."
While watching him go, she poured the rest of the water down her front.
In the guest room bathroom, Brian stripped off his sweaty clothes, set the water to a cool temperature, and climbed into the shower. Exhausted, he stood there letting the water stream over his body. He looked down and saw that despite the cool water, he was evidently still thinking about Jillian. He thought about the previous night, how Jillian, while under the influence, had come clean about her voyeuristic morning. He could not erase from his brain the image of her proud unveiling of her personal design choice. He found himself unable to resist...
Jillian stood outside the guest room, eyeing the door and longing to kiss him, to touch him, and to shower with him. She didn’t have a plan, but she was desperate for at least one more glimpse. She figured she should probably make sure he had enough towels. That would be the proper thing to do, she thought, although a towel restock was usually better done when your guest was fully clothed. Regardless, it still needed to be done, she kept telling herself.
After grabbing a towel from the linen closet, she knocked lightly on the door and called Brian’s name. When there was no reply, she slowly opened the door. She entered the room, heard the shower running, and saw that the door to the adjoining bathroom was open. She heard the uneven sounds of water hitting the shower floor that told her he was actually in the shower and not just standing outside, waiting for the water to reach the proper temperature. She tiptoed to the doorframe and peered through the inch-wide opening on the hinge side, which gave her a clear line of sight to the glass-enclosed shower.
A towel was draped over the clear glass door and hung down just enough to block her view of Brian’s chest and upward. The glass was clean and fog-free, and it provided her a perfect view of him as he showered. But he wasn’t showering; he was touching himself. With his left hand, he had a death grip on the towel that hung over the shower door, and he worked himself with his right. Jillian followed the bulging muscle in his right shoulder to the equally-flexed bicep, down to his straining
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