“There’s so much in me,” she laughed as she reached down between her legs. “You’re…quite a man.”
Dylan grinned, making me melt again.
“I—I don’t want to leave,” she said. “But my parents…”
“I know, princess,” I told her. “It’s okay. Want to shower one more time before you go so we can clean off?”
I got up and held my hand out to her. She slowly took it, a cheeky, suspicious look on her face.
“Mr. Cox,” she mewed. “Are you sure you just want to clean off?”
I grinned. She was really opening up now. That shyness she’d been overwhelmed with earlier on was vanishing quickly with every second. I pulled her to her feet, grabbed her by the ass and pulled her against me.
“I had this buddy once,” I told her. “And he wouldn’t fuck his girlfriend in the shower, because as he said, ‘the shower is for getting clean, not dirty.’ I do not agree.”
Before she could reply, I lifted her into my arms and carried her back into the shower and turned the water on. She reached for the soap, but I jokingly slapped her hand away.
“No, princess. Let me.”
I reached for the loofah, coated it in body wash and gave it a squeeze to get the suds going. Then I began to wash her.
Her body was unreal. If she wasn’t pursuing a degree in math, she could have been a model—or even still model on the side if she wanted.
She kept smiling at me as I started at her neck, moved across her shoulders and down her perfect breasts. She stepped closer to me, pressed her slick body against mine as I wrapped my arms around her and washed her back.
“I could do this every morning,” I told her.
“And I would let you,” she whispered. “But only if you let me do it too.”
She opened her hand for the loofah and I gave it to her. With her beautiful eyes on me, she added more soap and began to return the favor.
“So strong,” she mused as she washed my chest. “You should have dressed up for Halloween too.”
“Yeah? Who do you think I should have been?”
“Hercules?” she suggested. “Or maybe Achilles? You put Brad Pitt to shame in that movie he did.”
“I don’t think that would go over well in the neighborhood,” I chuckled as she traced my abs with the loofah.
“Yeah, you might get the housewives all fired up,” she replied. “We’d have a riot on our hands.”
“We almost had one with you in that witch costume. What were you doing in something like that with all these young, horny boys around?”
“My sister bought it for me,” Emily sighed as she squeezed suds across my shoulders. “It was the last one and she really wanted us to be witches together, so I stuffed myself into it.”
“I stuffed myself into you,” I teased, pecking her on the lips.
“You can say that again,” she smiled, kissing me back. “Maybe we should call you Achilles and him Hercules!”
I should have laughed, but I couldn’t. Something had come over me. Maybe it was the after-effects of what we’d just done, maybe it was the intimacy we had shared and were sharing now as we washed each other, or maybe it had been a long time coming and I was just starting to realize it now.
She looked back at me, and I saw the understanding in her eyes. We both knew what was happening. This was more than just us acting out a teacher-student fantasy we both shared. It was more than an older man with a sexy teenage witch who’d come to his door looking for sweets.
It was everything.
“I love you, Emily,” I said softly. I kissed her. She whimpered as our lips met and fell into me. I held her in my arms and squeezed her tight, letting her know she would always be mine, always be safe with me.
“I love you too…” she replied quietly. “I—I can’t believe I’m saying it, but—”