It's all slippy wet and hot under the spray of the water, tiny lakes and hot springs caught pooling between them until one of them shifts and the water spills over. But comfortable, still easy, the shuffle of feet on (probably imported 16th century Venetian) tile, an elbow thumping against the wall here.

The press of his cock between them finds her growing impatient, restless, and she can't seem to settle under his hands. Her own hands slide back into his hair, catching wet strands between her fingers and tugging. It's not hard, but it's firm enough to break apart their full blown make out session. Her breath feels unsteady, eyes bright.

"What do you want, Carmy?"