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“You're welcome, sissy,” she laughed. “And my, what an adorable, tiny little sissy-clitty you have, now that you're going all soft after you've cum!” My blush intensified dramatically, hearing that. I'd always been a grower, not a shower; I knew six inches was slightly above average, when I was hard, but now that I'd cum I was rapidly shrinking to barely three.

I retrieved my bag that had some clean running clothes in it and returned to the master shower. I turned on the water, steaming hot, stripped, opened the glass door and stepped in. I thought at the time it was a nice shower, but I know now it was a typical tract house cubical. I was thankful for the opportunity to jack off, as my cock had been rock hard since Mrs. B’s dress rode up, exposing her lovely thighs when she got in the car. I was just soaping up my dick to get some relief when I was startled by the opening of the shower door. Mrs. B. stepped into the shower, naked, holding a plastic cup. She handed me the cup.

She moved to the base of the table, between my thighs, taking off her top. God... even knowing what was about to happen, I couldn't help but stare! Her tits were phenomenal... obviously fake, of course, but I couldn't even see her scars! She grabbed a bottle of lube from below my line of sight, quickly slathering her cock, roughly shoving two fingers up my ass, making me grunt at the sudden pain as she moved them around a bit to get me ready, then pulling them out and notching herself into place.