"You're very handsome," she says, watching him with a smile. Rare for her to say it so plainly, but she's in a mood. He knows she adores his heart and his bravery, but she's also just a woman desperately attracted to his body, too.
"And you always have been." She fancied him the moment she saw him, and it's only gotten worse. She reaches for the red loofah (hers is blue, of course) that she bought for him and is unsure he even uses.
"I'm starting to think it was the smell that drew you in," he replies, shifting the angle of his head, the water bouncing off the back of his neck. He has most certainly never touched the loofah. "Even when I was narrow and thin, I came home smelling of morbols and their ilk."
Her hand passes over the thick swells of abdominal muscles. What water comes over his shoulders runs between them, chasing soap bubbles down.
"I'd thought I grown heavier in my first months at the Hideaway," he says, "but that had nothing on what you've done for me this past year."
That extra weight does him good, filling out his chest, his sides, his thighs –– what she bought for him when they first arrived strains to fit on him now.
“I think I really will crush you someday if this keeps up,” he says, lifting his arm for her. Weird to have her do the more practical parts of bathing, but he won’t complain. He just makes an amused sound. “Starting at one of the worst places… very brave of you.”
Jill simply smiles for a moment as she focuses on washing him, one pit and then the other, hands roaming over his biceps as she goes along. Washing and feeling him up all in one motion.
"Brave? I often wake up with my face pressed right there," she says. "I should make sure it's safe."
He just holds onto the curtain rod with one hand, moving as-needed. Her touch feels nice, warm and slippery and wet, and it leaves him with a pleasant hum in his heart. No one, he's sure, has ever tended to him like Jill has.
For all the touching they do, it still always feels like the first time.
"And who is to blame for that?" he says, gently teasing. "It's not me putting your face there."
"I'm suggesting no such thing!" She says with a laugh, enamored with the look on his face. And while she doesn't mean to tickle him, her touch is light as it moves down his sides.
“You love me most when I’m smelly,” he murmurs back, right against her lips, shower stream hitting his head in a way that has water slowly dripping into his eyes. Her laugh is intoxicating, and he’s glad for the shower muffling it out. Still, better quiet her with another kiss. He loves her.
"I love you most always, all the time," she replies with another laugh, quieted by his mouth. She kisses him deeply, pushing back his wet hair, wanting him to feel her love for him with each touch of her fingers and lips.
They're really not going to conserve much water if they're always like this.
Founder, he feels it to the very marrow of his bones, and he gently turns her so he can press her up against the shower wall, feel the soft squish of her body under his. He opens his eyes to look at her, water dripping off his brow. Every touch of her fingers feels electric.
no subject
"Oh, I'll touch all of you, sweaty or bloodied or covered in guts."
no subject
no subject
Like the man can't do it himself.
no subject
no subject
no subject
"I always hoped to be handsome to you," he replies.
no subject
"Even when you stink."
no subject
no subject
She smiles sweetly at him before lathering up the loofah with her body wash, some floral scented gel, and passing it over Clive's chest.
Her free hand brushes over his belly.
"You're far from narrow and thin these days."
no subject
"I'd thought I grown heavier in my first months at the Hideaway," he says, "but that had nothing on what you've done for me this past year."
That extra weight does him good, filling out his chest, his sides, his thighs –– what she bought for him when they first arrived strains to fit on him now.
no subject
"You look healthy," she says, voice fond. A well-fed, well-loved man. "There's more of you to wrap around me."
Speaking of which--she grabs his arm to lift it so she can scrub his pits. They were dank.
no subject
no subject
"Brave? I often wake up with my face pressed right there," she says. "I should make sure it's safe."
no subject
For all the touching they do, it still always feels like the first time.
"And who is to blame for that?" he says, gently teasing. "It's not me putting your face there."
no subject
She gives the other pit and extra scrub, playful. That's the side she's usually curled against.
no subject
no subject
no subject
"And yet I do not hear any confession as to where you find yourself in the morning."
no subject
no subject
no subject
Maybe she just wants a reason to bend over shortly.
"I love you, you smelly man."
no subject
no subject
They're really not going to conserve much water if they're always like this.
no subject
“I’d love you hard right here,” he murmurs.
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)