I awakened early the next morning to strong arms around me, squeezing my waist along with kisses on my shoulders and the back of my neck. It took me a moment to reassess my surroundings. I turned to John, and the memories broke over me like morning tide.

"Slept well?"  

I nodded yes.  "It was nice."

"Good."   He kissed me deeply, blending passion with persuasion. He licked my lips and I opened them to him, the achingly sweet plea becoming an action. In minutes, I felt like my body was caught in a storm, both inside and out, but strangely, I felt safe.

I could feel the vibration in his throat and chest when he exhaled heavily, half sigh, half growl. I was surrendering to him. He took off his clothes as he kissed me, and then began removing mine.

He showed his scout sign.  "No sex...last night."  He winked at me, making me laugh softly as he turned our bodies so that I was straddling him. I could feel his growing erection beneath me. “We need a shower.”

His mouth seized mine in a breath-robbing kiss. My logic was fading, burning from the heat he gave, to the point it had no weight, no place or bearing… He carried me into the shower, set me on the tiles and turned on the water. It was surprisingly warm. By the time I thought about saying something him, he’d already begun soaping me up. I sighed contentedly, feeling the strength of his hand under the soft towel and bubbly suds against my skin. “Ohhh.”

He chuckled softly. He nibbled on my ear, and whispered, “You're tense.  I thought I was tense!"  That earned him laugh.  "Feels good?”

“Yeah... yeah.”   He handed me the towel, and turned his back to me.

Oh, my God, it must be MY birthday, I thought as I kneaded his muscles through the soapy towel, admiring his form boldly. He exhaled heavily, again sounds of contentment coming from him, the vibration under my hands, something terribly feminine inside me responding to it.  I gently pulled apart the muscles, relaxing them and committing to memory the sight, feel and scent of him.  When he turned to me, I soaped his chest though he did not do mine. He watched me intently as I brought my hand lower, and then stopped. I felt my body responding and he hadn’t even touched me.

“My turn,” he said with a hint of sensual promise. The shower stream hit his face, and he opened his mouth, taking water in. He rinsed his mouth out and took water again, this time closing his mouth over my breast. I gasped at the warm current of water around it, and his tongue which licked patterns in its midst while his hands stroked my body.  He allowed the water to escape, over my breasts and down my body, cascading down my legs. He thrust a single finger inside me while he did the same to its twin, and I leaned against him for support. He then brought the towel between us, washing my front completely, stealing caresses with strong fingers through the soft fabric. He adjusted the showerhead and the water rinsed us both as he kissed me deeply, thrusting his tongue into my mouth. I only opened wider, willingly, feeling and hearing a masculine sigh come from him.

“Mmmm,” He ran his tongue along my neck, and lowered his head to my breasts, pushing me against the shower wall gently. His tongue circled the tips, trailing down, and he got on his