The Preacher's Son #2: Unleashed

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Authors: Jasinda Wilder
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This time, though, I had something else in mind. I took him into the bathroom, took off my robe and hung it up. I started the shower, letting it turn steamy hot while I helped Tre out of his jeans.
    "I need a shower," I told him. "A lady needs to get clean after making love to her man."
    Tre nodded, devouring my naked body with his eyes, but kept his hands at his side. He was ready, his cock standing straight up to his belly button as he stood in front of me, just waiting. I let him wait, enjoying a moment of pure ogling. 
    He was hot as hell, standing there, hard for me, wreathed in steam, muscles growing damp from the moisture in the air until he glistened. Eventually I stepped into the shower, gesturing for him to follow me. I got my hair wet and switched places with Tre so he was beneath the water jet, and I admired the way his muscles moved as he lathered his hair. When his eyes closed to rinse his hair, I took his softening penis in my hand, and he jerked in surprise, then relaxed. He went rigid immediately, and I laughed, taking the bar of soap in my hand and rubbing it against his chest.
    "I love how you get hard so fast," I said. 
    I soaped him up, rubbing my water-slick body against him as I did so, and he caught on, taking the soap from me and rubbing it between my breasts, slipping in little circles down my stomach and swiping it across my back, kissing me as he leaned over me, reaching around to move the soap on my ass, down the crack to the creases of each thigh.
    Tre ground his hips against my belly, wanting inside me. I held him in my hand, pumping him, getting him going. He leaned back against the shower wall, and I lowered myself to my knees. He looked down at me, head leaning back. I smiled up at him, licking the tip of his cock. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes as I rubbed my thumb in circles on the tip, drawing the pre-come from him. I took him in my mouth, then, all the way, as far as I could, bobbing with him deep inside. He was long enough that even with him at the back of my throat I had enough room on his silk-steel length to wrap my fingers around him. I took his testicles in my hand, rubbed his taint as I sucked him, spat him out, sucked him again. I drew my mouth off to pump him with both hands, now, putting just my lips on the bulbous head. He arched his back, and his knees buckled as he came. His hands drifted to my hair, taking its sopping weight in his hands and stroking my scalp as I continued to bob on him until he was groaning, pushing his cock into my mouth with throbs of pleasure.
    I helped him sit down on the floor, the water raining down on us. When he had his breath back, he looked at me, a question in his eyes. 
    "Shea? I was wondering something. Earlier, while we were together, you kept telling me to fuck you," he said the word with less hesitation, this time, and I could tell he was a little proud of it. "But just now, you said we were making love. So, my question is, is there a difference to you in what the words mean?"
    I stood up to wash and condition my hair as I answered. "Well, that's a complicated question, and really depends on who you're talking to. For me, it depends on context, usually. During, like before, I told you to fuck me, and I used that word to talk dirty to you. I just meant it to...I don't know...encourage you, I guess. To let you know I liked what you were doing. But if was to talk about our relationship, in a more general sense, I'd use a different word. I'd call it making love, or having sex, and that's it. When it's not during sex, I don't like calling it fucking because that seems cheap, or something."
    Tre nodded. "That makes sense." He went silent again, just staring down at me, his expression serious. "Do we have a relationship?"
    I froze. I wasn't ready for that discussion yet.
    "Let's not worry about categories just yet, Tre. Okay? I mean, do we have to put it into a neat little box? I like you, a lot. I like spending time with you, just like

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