Just like your vulva, your eyes cry over my repeated purposeful failure to deliver your much-needed relief. In the withdrawal of your craved drug, your moans have long turned into whimpers, approval has turned to plead, affirmation to begging for mercy—only fueling my nefarious self-satisfaction and my need to enslave you to the merciless torment I inflict upon you.Deciding you have gone through the ordeal long enough, I finally guide my attention to the erect button that prominently pokes out of its protective embedding, thirsting to be mauled by my fangs too.Your facial features relax as you understand you are, at last, being granted the cataclysmic release for which you’ve discarded all hope to receive. Your appeased silence is only brief, giving way to the overwhelming intensity of the sensations crashing over your body like lightning bolts.Just as you roll your eyes, your siren song turns into a guttural garbling and your body writhes in an ill-choreographed spastic dance from. Why was the handheld on the wall? Dan looked at me and said, "has Johnny come to shower his Mommy?" "No, no," Mom laughed, caressing and spreading the water over herself, "don't shower your Mommy, baby. It's not that kind of a shower," she was giggling uncontrollably, "it's a special kind of shower." "The golden one," Dan smiled, and winked at Mom. "Trust me, baby, you don't want to see Mommy like this," Mom said, paused, then added, "maybe when you're a bit older I'll let you shower me. Okay?" "Okay," I replied, not satisfied with the answer. "But hey, cuz," Dan said, "since you're here, can you pass the bath mug? Your Mom needs more than a stream, it seems." I handed him the mug. "Thanks, honey," Mom said, "close the door behind you." I slid the frosted glass door shut. I stood there, and saw Dan fill the mug with the handheld shower. Filling it completely, he brought it to her lips, and tilted it. Mom drank thirstily from it. "Do you hear that, John?" Dan called from the other.
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