Oliver turned on the shower, and the water poured out. He reached for the bar soap handing on the wall, and he lathered it over my chest and shoulders, down to my hands. His hands ran over my breasts, and he gently caressed them, making me arch against him.

He took the cue and applied more pressure, massaging them and tugging at the nipple, which hardened into a tight bud once more. I moaned, but the sounds were ruffled out by the water rushing down from the shower. He carried on with his assignment, washing the rest of my body, between my legs, then moving on to my feet.

I...