R to NC-17
Imagery
The sting of hot water droplets hit his back like so many tiny bees, not really inflicting pain, but a pleasant pressure of sorts. Muscles rippled in his back and buttocks as he bent forward to retrieve a bar of soap and a washcloth. He turned, the spray ricocheting off hard chest muscles and spattering his face as he wet the soft cloth, rubbing the soap over it mechanically.
Eyes closed, cloth on his face, rasping against rough, not-yet-shaven cheeks, cleaning. Breathing out through his nose, he stepped fully beneath the showerhead, squeezing his eyelids more tightly shut as he rinsed the soap suds from his angular face. Bit of soap in his blindingly white hair, lather rinse and repeat.
The washcloth was re-soaped, travelled over throat, shoulder, chest and abdomen. Busy little cloth, cleaning him diligently. Brushed against... and he gave a little hiss between clenched teeth as he started getting hard. He ignored his arousal for the moment, continuing to scrub his skin lightly with the lucky cloth.
Down his thighs, tickling the hair there, around his kneecaps. Up and down his shins, then one foot at a time. The cloth dipped between strong, straight toes, then circled around his heel. Into the arch, a little pressure, a little pleasure. Put his foot down, same routine with the other. Between the toes, around the heel, into the arch.
His washcloth-covered hand slid up one slim, hard calf, rubbing back and forth at the joint of his knee, continued up a hard-muscled thigh to one tight buttock. Circled twice. Other hand, back down to the calves, up and up and circled. Further up, to the small of his back and fingers pressed in as the cloth went up as far as he could reach. Brought it up, re-soaped.
One hand went over his shoulder and behind him, scrubbing shoulderblades and spine and the back of his neck. Armpits next, then down the arms and scrubbed the hands.
He was clean. His eyes dropped to his half-hard cock, standing out slightly away from him. Tossed the cloth into a corner, trailed a hand down chest and abs, combed fingers through springy dark hair. Finger and thumb around the base, pulling up... up... adding fingers all the way. Pad of the thumb flicking over the head. Back down as the delicious friction of slightly rough palm against hard, throbbing flesh aroused him fully.
Up again, fingers of his other hand stretching and manipulating soft foreskin. Biting into his lower lip now as his hips began twitching in time with the slow, firm movements of his hand. Right hand travelled down, cupping his sac and rolling hard balls between nimble fingers.
Images of flesh to flesh, two bodies writhing together flashed through his head. Talented mouth on the head of his cock, sucking down hard. Tongue brushing soft as the wings of a butterfly against the slit, tasting, probing. One gentle hand rubbing his lower abdomen, calming him as a knot of desire formed in the pit of his stomach.
Tiny, gasping breaths escaped his flared nostrils, his hips moving of their own volition into his hand now. Tension building quickly. Eyes squeezed shut again, spirals of pleasure throbbing through him.
Balls tightening now, raising up. He planted one hand firmly against the wall, squeezing a bit more and erupting into a cupped palm. Tossed his head back, mouth agape, soft, shuddering groan escaping. A name on his lips.
Empty now. Softening. He turned into the shower spray once more, rinsing his still-cupped palm out and watching milky-iridescent fluid as it disappeared down the drain.
Hands reached for the taps, turning them off. Water turned to a trickle as he stepped from the stall and pulled a white towel from the rack. Wrapped it around his waist and padded back to his lover's bed.