Page 62 of Unexpectedly In Love

“Can you wash my hair? My scalp feels hot.” She mutters.

Her hair? This thick mass of tight curls, she wants me to wash it. How?

“My legs feel weak,” without even thinking about it she drops to floor of the shower.

What the hell? I am still standing in semi-soaked khakis.

I can do this; I take the handheld shower and sit behind her on the floor. Dragging her to me I open my legs and lean my back against the white marble tile. Above me a single cold droplet falls from the shower nubs drop unto my shoulders. She bends her knees and wraps her arms around her legs.

“How do I shampoo your hair I psichí mou?” Lifting the handheld, I watch as the waters glides over her hair. It’s like the hair is not absorbing the water.

“You have to part it in two. Then add the conditioner, detangle, shampoo and condition again.” She moans as she throws her head back.

The fuck! This is a lot of work. I pass my hand through her hair, detangling, conditioning, shampooing. She moans each time I massage her scalp. In frustration I grip her hair tighter.

“Shit that feels good Eryx,” she cries. Her hair extends down to her back, and I watch in amazement as my wife’s hair transforms under water. It’s soft, thick, curly, as the water touches it, the curls become loose and then when it dries, it goes from her past her shoulder to her ear.

It takes an hour for me to finally rinse her off, dry her and get her tucked into bed. She moans and moves her legs under the sheets.

“Eryx, I need you,” she cries.

Stooping to the side of the bed I fix the pink bonnet over her head.

“I know, but it’s the wine. Trust me, once you sleep it will go away.” Do I want to spend hours between my wife’s thighs? Yes, but I would rather do so with her wanting me not drunk.

“Open my drawer there for me,” she points to the drawer at the right side of her bed.

As the drawer slides open and close my eyes and groan. It’s a freaking sex drawer! She has every sex toy in this draw. What the fuck is that? I pick up a dark black dildo about 15” inches with suction on it. How does this even f?—

“No, not that one, pass me the pink clear one. My rabbit, Benny.” She bends over to the side of the bed and points to the plastic rod.

“Benny? You named your vibrator Benny?” I am still in shock by the number of toys sitting in her drawer.

“What do you call this black big one?” I place the massive dildo back into the drawer.

“I call that one Jamal. Now there the pick one pass me Benny” she wiggles her eyebrows.

On the top of a lube called Slicked Pussy, sits a red silicone rose.

“Why?” I need to get out of this room because I’m two clicks away from joining her on that bed.

“Why what?” She sounds upset that I’m taking this long.

Picking the rose up I look down at her. “Why do you have this many toys? What does this do?”

Her smile brightens. “Oh, is that charged? Press down on the last power button.”

In confusion, I look down at the rose and press the power button. The small object quivers and pulses in my palm.

“Perfect. Pass it to me.” She stretches her hand to me.

“What is it for?” I press another level and the gold steel plate begins to pull back. Placing my finger over the open of the rose, my finger pad is sucked into the hole.

The fuck, why this amount of suction, then it hits me. It’s for her clit this rose is about to suck my wife’s clit. I am cold, semi soaked, my cock should be hard as it is. If this continues, I may just tear the zipper.

I take the rose off and slide the rose bud into my pocket. “You’re only using that with me.”

“What? With you? Give me my rose back, Eryx.” She sits up on the bed. The strap of her black camisole slips done her shoulder. She looks sexy and inviting.

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