She stood in the center of the room, waiting for him. Her breasts had darkened, and her nipples had grown erect by themselves. She groaned as she ran a hand feverishly down over her pubic hair; the current shot through her. She flaunted her pelvis a couple of times and whimpered deep in her throat… like a bitch in heat, she thought again.

When Shelton still did not put in an appearance, Sylvia bit her lower lip indecisively and then tiptoed rapidly toward the bathroom. She opened the door. The steam hit her with a warm moistness. Through the fog, she could see his muscular body outlined in the glass door of the large shower stall. He continued to sing.

Her eyes were flashing mischievously as she slowly reached out for the door handle. Then, quickly, she opened it and stepped inside. She couldn’t have asked for a better setup, she thought; there was the detective, his hair all lathered up, his eyes closed… and not the least bit aware that someone had stepped into the shower stall with him. She choked back a giggle as she watched him… watched the white soapy suds running down his backbone to disappear into the crevice between his strong buttocks. Slowly, with a prankish grin on her face, she reached out for his penis.

Shelton’s first awareness that someone was in the shower with him came with the soft touch of a hand sliding down his abdomen to fasten gently on his cock. “What in hell,” he shouted, and jumped in sudden alarm, almost slipping. His eyes opened, a mistake!… for the soap blinded him again almost immediately. He saw enough, though.

There, as if a dream had suddenly materialized, was the nude golden body of the Akron woman, her harvest moon breasts already wet, and a stream of water running down her belly into her silken pubic hair. She was laughing at his reaction.