Mountain Lion by Terry Bolryder

him, slick and glistening. He washed those too, loving the glide of his hands over the soft mounds. He cupped them and gently kissed them, not minding the slightly soapy taste.
    Then he continued, moving over her waist and hips, which he gripped momentarily before sliding one hand down between her legs and washing her gently there. He felt her knees going weak and came up against her, putting one strong thigh up for her to brace herself on and holding himself up with one hand on the tile. Even if she sank forward, she’d simply fall on his leg and against him.
    So she was simply free to enjoy the pleasure as he stroked with one hand, gently lathering and washing over her folds, slipping between for a feel of the slick, wet heat at the center, and then coming over her to play lightly over her mound.
    He brought her into the spray and held her as water streamed over them, washing away the soap. Then he took her back against the wall of the shower.
    The water streaming around them made everything warm and moist, quiet and contemplative, because there was a rhythm in the way the water fell and how steam fogged the windows of the stall and how her breathing moved in time with all of it. The combination of sensations was heaven for him, and though they were both hungry and would have to do other things together, he sort of wanted to stay there forever.
    He slipped his hand between her legs again, this time feeling for the sensitive spot where she felt the most pleasure. She squeaked and squirmed against his hand, her fingers digging into his back to let him know he’d found the right spot. He pressed gently, enjoying her gasp and the way her knees seemed to go weak. He held her up as he continued to stroke, gentle and slow at first, enjoying the hitch in her breathing. Then he increased, moving against her with his body as his hand stroked harder, faster. She gasped out her pleasure as he moved his body against her, enjoying the slick stroke of his hard chest against her soft breasts and sensitive nipples.
    It was heaven, and she seemed to think so too, gasping his name in rhythm with his caresses, holding on to his back like it was all she had in the world.
    He’d never want to stop doing this, never. Nothing in his life had ever mattered more than this moment here with her.
    Valerie.
    Just as he said her name in his mind, she came apart in his arms, gasping out her release, clutching him so tight it hurt, but in an exquisitely good way. One he never wanted to stop.
    He held her back, keeping her up as she collapsed against him, her wet, warm body soft in his arms as she cried out from the pleasure of the orgasm rippling through her.
    “Oh, Val,” he said quietly against her ear. “What are you doing to me, beautiful?”
    She simply held on harder, grinding her body against him as she choked out, “Not nearly everything I’d like to.”
    He groaned at that, holding her up as he stepped back to look at her face. A few wet strands of hair had trailed over her face, and he gently moved them back, careful to keep his soapy hands off her skin.
    She bit her lip and looked up at him.
    He was just pushing another strand of hair behind her ear when he felt her grab him with a firm, determined grip.
    He choked and looked down at her. “Val?”
    “Yes?” she asked innocently, still holding him a little too tight. “What do I do with this?” She loosened her grip slightly and ran her hand up and down it. “I never thought it would feel like this. It’s like velvet. But hard. But soft. I don’t know how to describe it.”
    He grated his teeth together. The sensation of her soft little hands moving up and down on him was driving him insane.
    “You don’t have to do that,” he said tightly, moving a hand over hers to pull her off. She didn’t need to service him. This was all for her after all.
    “I want to do it,” she said. “I want to see you when you do that too. I want to do for you what you did for