Tom and Cassidy, Aftermath

It was a strange sensation, waking in the utter and absolute darkness, unable to determine up from down. His mind immediately drifted to the concept of a sensory deprivation chamber, except for the strong steady rhythmic bass of a heartbeat filling his ears. The temperature seemed comparable to his own flesh and everything was slick and wet. A quick inventory of himself revealed no infirmities he could find. Hands out, he could feel the spongy corrugated texture of the flesh defining the boundaries of his isolation. Though close and very humid, there was air enough for him to breathe.

The last thing he remembered was a flash of light and the unexpected arrival of something incredibly hard and unyielding, driving him deep inside Cassidy. Am I in her womb? He shook his head, surmising instead he must be in the cavity beyond the birth canal but below the cervix.

The walls seemed to move around him, churning, undulating as she moved and almost crushing down upon his tiny body. Then there was light, in his little space and something digging into the small of his back just above his buttocks. A fingernail? Rolling with the motion of the tissue around him, the tip of the finger retreated, leaving and showing him the direction out. Following the path of the finger, he wormed his way through the sleek snug passage until he was able to slip an arm free. Suddenly she had his arm, tugging and pulling to get him free while her pelvic muscles clung to him, unwilling to yield him up. Twisting his hips to help, he slid out of Cassidy, glistening from her secretions.

“Oh Tom, I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed, laying him on the fabric between her thighs.

Raising a hand to his face to clear his vision, he waved up at Cassidy with his other hand, her juices webbing his fingers almost together, “I’m okay,” he croaked, grinning.

Putting a hand across her naked chest, she let out an audible sigh of relief, “Thank goodness, I feared maybe I had hurt you, or that you might suffocate,” she said, relief in her tone. “I lost myself to the passion,” she explained, feeling guilty about using the toy without considering what might happen to him.

Sitting upright, he wiped his hands across the fabric, shaking his head. “Not to worry,” he said. “Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated,” he quipped, quoting Mark Twain.

Looking down at him, she giggled, “That was, I don’t know, amazing,” she said.

Nodding, he continued to try and cleanse himself of the clear but sticky effluence of her climax.

“You look a little like a glazed donut,” she commented, watching him.

“A donut should be so lucky,” he answered back, flashing his charming smile and winking at her.

She chuckled and shook her head, “You are incorrigible,” she said.

Standing upright, he nodded slowly, “So I’ve been told,” he said, extending his arms up to her like a child wanting to be picked up.

Getting the hint, she reached down and took his tacky little body carefully in her right hand and bringing him up to her chest.

Adopting a serious look, he nodded, “What did you use to push me way up inside you?” he inquired.

Feeling to her side with her left hand, she curled her fingers around the glass sex toy and brought it up for him to see, abashed as he looked at it.

“Holy,” he mumbled, eye wide, understanding the momentary flash of light coming through the toy before he was buried up inside of her.

“Again I’m sorry Tom, it’s just, well you were driving me absolutely crazy with your teasing,” she tried to explain, placing the toy back down,

He grinned, “Not the first time I’ve heard that either,” he said with a chuckle. “How about a shower?” he asked.

Nodding, “Sure she said, sliding across the bed and walking to the bathroom. “How, I mean, like in the sink? I’m not sure,” she said, pausing in the doorway and flicking on the light.

Shaking his head, “No, there,” he said, pointing at the recessed place for the soap built directly into the shower.

Crossing the linoleum covered bathroom floor, she stopped at the fiberglass molded tub/shower unit. “Won’t be too slippery?” she queried.

He shook his head.

Reaching across the open space over the tub, she positioned her hand and let him walk off onto the small ledge.

Bending over, she pulled out the knob over the faucet, twisting it most of the way to the left before pulling the little chrome knob near the end of the spigot causing cold water to spray out of the white plastic handheld showerhead still in its cradle high over his head.

Reaching a hand into the cool spray to test the temperature, she waited a moment, then stepped into the tub, drawing the clear plastic shower curtain adorned with brightly colored tropical closed behind her.

Stepping under the shower head, Cassidy brought her hands up to her face and immersed herself under the spray, wetting her long brown hair.

Tom used the spray bouncing back off her exquisitely toned body and began to wash himself, though he kept his eyes glued to Cassidy.

Stepping back slightly, she pushed her wet hair body, grinning at tom as she plucked the scented bar of soap from the dish beside him, bringing it to her chest.

Lathering the bar between her hands, she set it back in the dish, eyes holding Tom’s, holding her lower lip between her teeth as she smiled and arched her back slightly, bringing her hands to her full rounded breasts, cupping them and massaging them slowly.

Clearing his throat, Tom got the very distinct impression she was now teasing him and it was working, his body responding.

“You like?” she asked playfully, innocent expression on her face.

He nodded mutely watching intently as she traced her hands down over her slender stomach, leaving a thin trail of suds.

She giggled, leaning forward, she tilted her head to the side, opening her mouth and delicately licking him along the underside of his swollen manhood with just the very tip of her tongue.

 He groaned and closed his eyes, but she backed away, turning slightly to allow the water to cascade over her chest and rinse away the soapy residue.

“Ugh,” he noised, growling in his throat. “You’re a bad girl,” he said.

“Me?” she asked, expression innocent as she touched her right index finger to her chest before glancing down and circling the erect nipple of her right breast. “Is that bad?” she asked, looking back at him.

He nodded slowly, sly grin on his face.

She turned and showed him her bared bottom, still looking at him over her shoulder before flicking a glance down then back at him, “Maybe I should be punished?’ she said.

Nodding again, “And indeed you shall be,” he assured with an affirmative nod.