If you’ve noticed, almost nothing about John Brownstone or my relationship seems sacred. I share it all!
Except, to me, every bit of it is sacred. Every moment is a fucking gift, and I’d be a fool to waste it. Even in the shower, when he’s soaping up, minding his own damn business.
Up until a year or so ago, we showered together more than we showered apart. We even have a routine and a method for getting clean in between the smacks, pinches, and laughs. Yes, we may share that at some point, but today, it’s also about catching each other in those solo moments.
I love watching his hands glide over soap-covered skin, his or my own. My mouth waters at the sure way he tugs and pulls – his body or my own. When soap-covered fingers slip into dark, wet places, I come alive.
And yes, I have the same reaction whether it’s my sensitive spots or his own.