Sexy Shower Erotica
"Lady Lilith and the Mysterious Mr. Harper," a Vanilla short story by Scarlett Quinn
Heather knocked loudly on the door of the Executive Suite just to make sure he wasn’t in. She announced herself loudly and then forced herself to wait and listen at the door for a full minute before sliding her key-card into the slot. She hesitated for a moment at the threshold. What was she doing here? What was she looking for? This was a mistake. Heather hovered uncertainly in the doorway of Mr. Harper’s Executive suite.
Mr. Harper had boarded The Silver Mermaid two weeks ago, and somehow he had managed to inhabit all of Heather’s free thoughts since. Their first meeting was memorable for its awkwardness. Heather stood there in her pressed butler’s uniform, her wild red hair tamed in a ponytail, and a welcoming smile on her face. She radiated care and professionalism as she went through the spiel she had recited a million times over. She was met with silence. Mr. Harper had stood there with a confused look on his face. The silence continued and Heather began to feel a blush rising up her throat as Mr. Harper continued to stare at her. She forced the color down before it could reach her face and then politely inquired if he was feeling alright. Mr. Harper seemed to compose himself and asked her if they had met before. Heather’s stomach clenched instinctively as she politely responded that it was highly unlikely they moved in the same circles. He gave her one more searching stare before spending the next ten minutes telling her about his requirements, mainly surrounding privacy.
And then that was it. Even though she was in his room at least twice a day, she still didn’t know how old he was, why he was on the cruise, or what he did for a job, which were all the things that she usually found out in the first few days. Heather had tried to make conversation, but he was either on the phone, typing on his laptop, or busy with some other activity that had him dismissing her with a wave of his hand. She tried to gain clues from his chattels, but there were no items of note on display. He was a mystery and Heather was curious.
Heather preferred the word “curious” even though her bunkmate Vanessa teased her with the word “obsessed.” Although, as she stood there in her very rich and probably powerful passenger’s cabin, she figured that “obsessed” was definitely a more appropriate descriptor. Or perhaps “mad.” After all, it was madness for her to spend her precious R&R time in her passenger’s cabin rather than by the pool with Vanessa.
“Well, you’re here now,” she told herself,” you may as well just have a quick look.”
Heather began by carefully going through all the drawers of the writing desk. As she searched, she couldn’t quite believe what she was doing. She had been working cruise ships for over three years now and never before had a passenger made her so crazy. Maybe Vanessa was right, maybe it was because Mr. Harper seemed to be completely immune to her charms – her ego was bruised black.
Heather moved on to Mr. Harper’s papers, and was so engrossed in her search that she only just heard the faint sound of rustling sheets. She spun around and gripped the edge of the writing desk. Heather had a sudden flash of how absurd she must look. Here she was, snooping in her passenger’s quarters while wearing a huge floppy sun hat and a bikini under a very sheer top. She was also acutely aware of her pale legs and feet. After what seemed like an eternity, she heard a soft snore and managed to exhale slowly.
She pulled off her hat and gripped it tightly in front of her like a shield. She crept towards the small bedroom and saw Mr. Harper flat out on his back, asleep. Heather gasped despite herself, and her shield, forgotten, drifted slowly to the floor. She had seen many semi-naked men in her 26 years, but never before had she encountered such a beautiful specimen. His tanned skin contrasted with the crisp white of the sheets and his short hair was all messy from sleep. He had a designer beard on his chiseled face, but his chest was totally hairless. What’s more, it appeared that Mr. Harper was completely fat free and had more muscle definition on his torso and arms than she thought possible.
Heather glanced towards the door and then back to the man in the bed. She just wanted to touch his chest, just one caress, and then she’d be gone. She slowly moved towards the bed. The closer she got, the more she wanted to touch him. He was breathing evenly, and every now and then a small snore escaped. She leaned over him, her mouth inches from his nipple. She longed to drop her mouth onto it and suck it to hardness. Instead, she closed her eyes and breathed in his scent: delicious. She turned her head towards his belly and a few ringlets of her hair escaped from their bindings and fell onto his chest. She could see a sizeable bulge at his groin, then noticed the head of his cock peeking out from underneath the sheet as if it were watching her.
Heather stood up, glanced quickly to confirm that Mr. Harper was still sleeping, and then grabbed a fistful of the crisp white sheet. She pulled slowly towards the end of the bed, revealing his body inch by inch. She stopped when the sheet had reached mid-thigh and stood in awe at what lay before her. His cock was magnificent. It was the most beautiful cock she’d ever seen. She wondered if all of her favorite dildos had been cast from Mr. Harper’s perfect dick. She felt a small drop of drool building in the corner of her mouth, and she licked her lips.
Heather closed her eyes and willed herself to take one step backwards, then another. She felt like the moon might trying to pull out of the earth’s orbit. Finally, she was back at the bedroom door and felt safe enough to take one last look.
Bright blue eyes, the color of the Caribbean Sea, pinned her to the spot. Heather suddenly felt great empathy for the delicately impaled butterfly specimens that hung on the wall in her father’s study. She was completely powerless beneath Mr. Harper’s calm, penetrating stare. All her faculties of speech, movement, and even breath seemed to seep out of her. The only part of her that continued to work was her beating heart, which made up for those other failed functions by beating twice as hard and fast against her ribs.
Mr. Harper sat up and swung his legs off the bed and walked calmly over to where she stood. He was so close she could feel his breath on her upturned face and his hard cock against her belly.
“Boo.”
Heather squealed and sprinted for the door with Mr. Harper on her heels. She just managed to grab the handle and pull the door open a few inches before he threw his weight forward and slammed it shut. He stood with both palms against the door, creating a sturdy cage around her. She had to turn awkwardly in order to face him.
Heather looked up into his blue eyes, her stomach swirling with fear and excitement. His face was a fierce picture of desire. He lowered his head to her ear and whispered.
“I’m going to have a shower.”
He left her there, pressed against the door of the cabin; the absence of his powerful body leaving her feeling hollow. There was a small persistent angel perched on her right shoulder that began to rave on and on about professionalism, job risk, personal risk. The small, leather-clad demon that straddled her left shoulder simply leaned in to her ear and whispered.
“Do not let that cock get away.”
Heather waited a few minutes and then followed him into the bathroom. Mr. Harper had his arms up and was leaning against the wall of the luxuriously large shower. She watched him for a little while, watched as the hot water pounded the top of his head and ran in rivulets down his spine. She took a deep breath, mentally flicked the squeaking angel off her right shoulder, and then slipped out of her clothes and into the shower.
Heather rested her head against Mr. Harper’s back. She breathed deeply and enjoyed the feel of his smooth skin against her cheek and breasts. He stayed still for a little while and then turned to embrace her, lifting her off her feet. For the first time, Heather saw him smile: a beautiful, shy, almost cheeky grin. Heather smiled back, how could she not? She cleared her throat.
“Do you mind if I continue where I left off in the bedroom?”
Siren, by Arthur Braginsky (prinst available at ObsessionArt.com)
Mr. Harper’s smile turned devious.
“Please do.”
Heather sighed as she took in the sight of his magnificent penis for a second time. She was going to enjoy this, and she was going to go slow, real slow. She rubbed her face against his cock before licking it all over from the base of the shaft to the slit at the very top. Then she opened wide to take him deep into her mouth. Mr. Harper groaned. He let his head fall back against the wall and splayed his hands on the tiles to stop himself from grabbing her head and impaling her face on his cock.
Heather sucked furiously on the head of his penis and used one hand to stroke his shaft while the other fondled his balls. After a few minutes, she slowed the pace and kept her hand at the base of his cock to help guide it right to the back of her throat. She moved her head forward and back, daring to go a little deeper each time. She alternated between these two states for some time, until he was close. Suddenly she let him go. She sat back and looked up into his face. “Move down the wall a bit.”
Mr. Harper complied, sliding his back down the wall so that his cock was level with her breasts.
“I want you to come on me.”
Mr. Harper stared at her for a few seconds, watching, awestruck, as she massaged her large breasts and squeezed her nipples. Then he grabbed his cock and began pumping furiously. Heather smiled and lifted one of her breasts to her mouth and flicked the nipple with her tongue. Mr. Harper gasped and Heather had just enough time to throw her head back before he shot his load all over her breasts and throat, his cries echoing around the tiled bathroom.
Mr. Harper sat on the floor of the shower while Heather soaped up her body. He watched as suds slid down over her breasts and belly, only to get caught in her pubic hair. He wanted to taste her. No, he needed to taste her. He pushed her against the wall of the shower and knelt before her. He lifted one of her legs and hoisted it over his shoulder before caressing her clitoris with his thumb.
Heather looked down on him. Fuck he was gorgeous; those beautiful blue eyes gazed up at her, looking for approval. She smiled down on him benevolently before placing her hands on the back of his head and pushing his face into her pussy. His laugh vibrated through her for a few seconds, and then he got to work. He flicked his tongue against her clitoris before taking it into his mouth. He sucked on it ever so gently and Heather thought she might have to stay in this position with him for the rest of her life. She cried out quietly when he let the small nub slip from his lips.
He rubbed his whole face against her, his stubble scraping upwards against the inside of her labia, making them tingle deliciously. She was close to coming and her legs began to shake. Just as she was about to come, he pushed two fingers deep into her and suckled her clit again. She looked down at him, looked at him as he pleasured her, this God of a man on his knees before her. The orgasm that had been building in her groin suddenly exploded through her body. She cried out loudly and her hips rocked against his face.
When the orgasm receded, she opened her eyes and saw bright stars spinning in her vision. She slid down the tiled wall and plopped unceremoniously on to the floor of the shower. Mr. Harper squatted in front of her and she noticed her cum clinging to his grinning face.
“Perhaps you should rest here for a bit while I go get a condom.”
Heather nodded dumbly and wondered fleetingly whether her body was up to another orgasm like that.
Would he give her a choice? She didn’t think so.
When Mr. Harper returned, she was standing, albeit shakily, in much the same position that she had found him. She tilted her head back to let the warm water wash over her face and into her mouth. She felt Mr. Harper behind her, his cock pressing against her ass – God, how she craved him. As if reading her mind, he slipped his perfect cock inside her.
Heather cried out again. The feel of his cock so soon after that shattering orgasm almost sent her over the edge. He moved slowly in and out of her, leaning forward and cupping her breasts in his hands. She arched her back and pushed out her ass. He straightened up in response to her movements and gripped her ample hips. Now he was able to go deeper, and she cried out as his cock filled her up completely. Before long, his fucking became more urgent and she struggled to keep her feet on the ground. He pulled out of her without warning and spun her around so that her back was pressed against the wall. He lifted her legs and she wrapped them around his slim waist as he pushed his way into her. She grabbed his face and felt like she saw him for the first time. He opened himself up to her: fears, faults, flaws, and all.
Heather kissed Mr. Harper, his stubble burning her lips, as another orgasm began to build inside her belly. It started as a small spiral and became larger and larger as Mr. Harper thrust faster and deeper. Before long, the spiral was a tornado that engulfed her. The orgasm blasted through her body, and as her hips bucked against him she screamed into his mouth. In a moment, Mr. Harper threw his head back and cried out. Somehow, he managed to keep a hold of her as they both fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs.
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Heather woke up in Mr. Harper’s bed with little knowledge of how she had come to be there, although, she did have a vague recollection of Mr. Harper carrying her. However, he was not in the bed now, nor could she hear him in the cabin. She called his name tentatively, and then spied the envelope on the bedside table. Her name was scrawled on the front in neat cursive, which surprised her. She reached over, picked up the envelope, and opened it slowly. It read:
Dear Heather,
I realize now where I’ve seen you before.
Jonathon.
Tucked inside the short note was a blank, yellowing postcard. On the front was a picture of a beautiful lady combing her long red hair. It was Rossetti’s Lady Lilith and on the back of the postcard was a quote from the artist.
Beware of her fair hair, for she excels
All women in the magic of her locks,
And when she twines them round a young man's neck
She will not ever set him free again.
Heather lay back on the luxurious goose down pillow and ran her finger over the small portrait of the lady. She smiled and wondered afresh about the mysterious Mr. Harper.
Lady Lilith, by Rossetti.
Copyright June 13, 2011
Published with permission from author on OystersandChocolate.com. Copying or reprinting this work in part or in whole without permission is illegal.