If Serge had stepped into the shower and said, “Serve me,” she would have told him to kiss her ass. But with Maddox it felt right, felt perfect. She stood and washed his shoulders, then kissed the back of his neck. “Anything else, Master?” Her voice was soft and dreamy, matching the mood that filled her so completely. This was a dream, a sensuous dream that left her aroused, craving his cock. He turned back to her, and she looked down. The part of his body in question stood at attention, and she wrapped the washcloth around it, keeping it tight as he groaned in pleasure. “Wash yourself while I watch.” Clarissa obeyed immediately. The cloth felt sensuous as it slipped over her skin. She lathered each breast, her aching nubs tingling as she touched them. She wanted to offer them to him, beg him to suck her. She slid the cloth between her legs, rubbing against her pussy until she groaned. “Turn around.” Not one inch of her thought of disobeying. He tugged the cloth from her hand, then popped it against her ass.
