Chapter 7

“Well, now I need you in that shower stall.” Sara instructed, picking up a couple of bottles of beer and twisting the caps off before handing one to Jon. “Here you go.”

Jon took a quick drink from the bottle, then stepped into the shower. Before Sara could warn him, he turned the shower control, getting hit full in the chest with a blast of icy water.

“Jesus! That’s freezing!!” he gasped, jumping back out of the way.

“Sorry - I was about to warn you! It takes a few minutes for that to warm up.”

“Oh, sure you were going to warn me! You’ll pay for that later.” He promised her, and Sara suddenly remembered.

“We could just call it payback - for those photos you took yesterday.”

“Huh? Photos? What ph……..oh - those photos? Of you sleeping?” He’d forgotten all about that. “Okay, we’ll call it even for the moment.”

Steam was starting to billow in the shower, and Sara reached past Jon to turn the heat down a bit, yelping as his hand closed on her ass where the t shirt had ridden up. She backed out again, shoving him into the stall, and he let the water run down over his head until his hair was soaked before raking it back with one hand.

“So - whaddya want?” Jon enquired, gulping another mouthful of beer.

“Why don’t you do whatever feels right.” Sara suggested, lifting her camera, then backing hurriedly out of reach as a soaking wet Jon tried to grab her.

“You said to do what felt right.” But he raised his hands in capitulation. “Okay - back to work. I’ll be good.” he promised.

“I guess there’s a first time for everything.” Sara commented, shielding her camera when Jon flicked water at her.

They worked for a while or, rather, Sara worked and Jon clowned around and generally acted the fool for her, giving her the kind of shots she’d been hoping for, showing that behind the rock star, father and serious businessman, he was still just the same kid from Jersey.

“More beer!” Jon demanded, holding his second bottle upside down to show Sara it was empty.

“I’ll have to get more from the fridge.” Sara jogged away across the room, and Jon leaned out of the stall to watch her go, grinning as he watched her pale buttocks flash from under the hem of his t shirt. Sara returned with two beers and a diet coke, also carrying a couple of towels. She stooped over the low table to set down the drinks, forgetting Jon was directly behind her, and that all she wore was a t shirt, until she heard his sharp intake of breath and realised that, bent over the way she was, the t shirt was covering nothing from the waist down.

For the first time in her life, Sara suddenly felt comfortable enough in her body that she didn’t straighten up immediately, but finished what she was doing - opening Jon’s beer and her coke - before slowly standing and turning around to walk back over to Jon. She sipped from her coke as she approached him, smiling sweetly at him as she observed the unmistakable evidence of his arousal.

“Your drink, sir.” She handed him the dewy bottle, and he gave her a broad, appreciative smile, enjoying this somewhat bolder Sara.

“No beer for you? Don’t you drink when you’re working?”

“Ick! I don’t like beer. Actually, I don’t drink at all.”

“You really have had a sheltered life, haven’t you?!”

“I’ve just managed to avoid bad influences,” Sara said, then smiled at him again, “Until yesterday, anyway.”

Laughing, Jon said “Maybe we’ll get you drinking beer today then. I’m enjoying corrupting you!”

“Just one or two more shots” Sara told him “And I really will need to keep the camera up now!” She gestured below his waist with a smile, then quickly fired off the last few shots she wanted.

“Right. That’s us all done.” She laid the camera down on the table, picking up a towel and walking toward the shower.

“You can get out of there now.” She told Jon, who seemed to be having difficulty with the shower controls.

“Shit!” he exclaimed. “How do you turn this off, Sara?”

“Oh, God. You’re not very mechanically inclined, are you?”

She dropped the towel on the floor, stretching past him to shut off the water. Jon grabbed her wrist, pulling her all the way into the stall and under the rushing water. Sara gasped as the water - thankfully warm - cascaded over her, soaking the Philly Soul shirt instantly.

“I may not be mechanically inclined.” Jon pressed against her wet body, pinning her against the wall. “But I do have other talents.”

“Really? And what would those be?” Sara teased, but shivered convulsively when he ground his hard cock against her with a smirk.

Jon drank down the rest of his beer, setting the empty bottle on the shower shelf, then brought his mouth down onto Sara’s. He watched the teasing sparkle fade from her brown eyes, then her lashes - spiky from the water - fluttered together as she closed her eyes. As their lips touched, he closed his own eyes, as he explored her mouth with his tongue, opening them a long moment later when he felt Sara’s hands pushing against his chest.

He broke away, thinking she wanted him to stop, but then allowed her to take control as she kept pushing until his back was against the opposite wall, then she pressed down on his shoulders wordlessly. Jon let himself slide down the slick tiles until he was sitting on the floor of the stall, his back against the wall, and looking up at Sara from what was, to say the least, a very interesting perspective.

Sara’s eyes were fixed on Jon’s as she slowly sank to her knees beside him, licking her lips a little nervously before leaning in to kiss him. They lost themselves in the kiss, lingering over every delicate touch of their tongues, then Jon felt Sara shift as she moved across to straddle him, keeping herself balanced on her knees above him, the shower pouring warm water over them both.

“Sara? Are you sure?”

She didn’t even bother to answer him, but took his rigid cock in one hand to guide him into her heat. Her eyes widened just a little as she carefully lowered herself fully onto him, smiling at Jon when he let out a low groan. Sara quickly stripped off the sopping wet t shirt, dropping it to the shower floor. As she pulled the shirt up and over her head, the movements of her shoulders ground her hips against Jon, who drew in a shuddering breath and placed his hands on her waist.
Again, Sara rolled her hips voluptuously, settling into an easy rhythm, while Jon was content to let her take the lead, his fingers resting only lightly on her skin and his eyes locked with hers.
Following her instincts, Sara began to lift herself off Jon as she rolled her hips, rising and falling over and over until she felt his hands tighten on her as he tried to accelerate the pace. She froze instantly, ignoring the pressure of his fingers as he tried to urge her on. Only when his hands relaxed again did she resume the slow rocking of her hips. Twice more she did it, teasing and torturing him the way he’d tormented her earlier, until she heard a growl of frustration.

“Jesus - you learn fast, don’t you?”

She laughed then, and Jon could feel the chuckles around him, where he was deep inside her, forcing another groan from his throat.

Finally, now, Sara relented, and when she started to move again she allowed Jon to dictate the pace, placing her hands on the tile wall for support.

His fingertips were digging deep into her hips now, and she knew there would be bruises there tomorrow, but she didn’t care. Harder and faster she moved, letting the power of Jon’s arms slide her up and down on his straining shaft, until she felt the hot flood deep within her, and his movements slowed, his face buried between her breasts as she cradled his head close.

This time it was Jon who - gasping for air - suddenly spoke.

“Sara - you didn’t…….” and she smiled at him tenderly.

“No. This was your turn. That was just for you.” And she reminded him of his earlier words, when he had pleasured her so skilfully.

Jon chuckled, a little breathless still. “Just give me a chance to catch my breath, and we’ll go for round three!”

Sara remained kneeling astride him, until she felt him soften and slip away from her, then she took his face in both hands to kiss him deeply. As she drew back, she wrinkled her nose.

“You taste of beer.”

She reached up and turned off the shower, then picked up the towel she’d dropped on the floor, using it to wipe the water from first her own face, then Jon’s. Standing up, she wrapped herself in the towel and threw the other one to Jon as she grabbed some chocolate from the bowl on the table.

“I’m starving!” She said, unwrapping a chocolate and popping it in her mouth. “Let me see what’s in the kitchen.”

Jon heard her searching in cupboards as he slumped on the couch, picking chocolates from the bowl. She returned carrying two mugs of coffee in one hand, the other hand clutching a variety of cookies and chips, and dumped the whole lot on the table.

“That’s all I can find.” She said, opening a bag of chips and digging in ravenously. Jon looked at her in amazement.

“I don’t know where you put all that food - you’re so skinny. But I suppose, all you had this morning was a pastry.”

Sara giggled at him. “No, all you saw me eat was one pastry. I’d had four before you arrived.”

“Really? So, do you work out a lot, or are you one of those annoying people who just doesn’t gain weight?”

“Sorry - I’m one of those annoying people.”

“I used to be that way.” Jon said. “But the older I get, the less I seem to eat. Dot reckons…..” he paused, remembering the conversation with his mom.

“Look, why don’t you just call her?” Sara said. “You’re obviously concerned about her - why not put your mind at rest.”

Jon nodded. “Yeah, I think I will. Where did I put my phone?”

They found his cellphone buried down the back of the couch, and he punched in the number.
“Well, it’s ringing - that’s a good sign. Hello?” He looked surprised, pulling the phone from his ear to check the display. “Hello?!”

Jon lowered the phone, frowning.

“What’s wrong?” Sara asked, worried by the look on his face.

“Uh….I thought I had a wrong number, but it was definitely Dot’s phone.”

“Yeah - and?”

“Well, it wasn’t Dot. Some guy answered, then I heard somebody in the background say ‘No - that’s mine!’, then he hung up. Hold on.” He hit the ‘redial’ button. “Now it’s switched off. What the fuck’s going on?”