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Genetic twist gives man ability to spot Sociopaths.

His mischievous nature shows when he opens the drawer of his nightstand and pulls a waterproof toy from its sanctuary. The silence between them does not worry Warren; he knows his lady is not a morning person. He says nothing as she adjusts the knobs and sets the water to a temperature they both will welcome. She steps behind the curtain, sighing as liquid heat splashes against her skin. Warren follows suit; his sound of pleasure goes unnoticed by Tracy, already washing away the evidence of their nighttime play.

Warren waits patiently, wiping at water that splatters his face, until he becomes annoyed with the constant action. He reaches up, adjusts the nozzle so that it barely grazes either of their faces and reaches for the bottle of shampoo. Soon his hands are buried in Tracy's hair. He lathers the thick tendrils, enjoying the sound she makes as he massages her scalp through the soapy suds.

"You do that so well," she tells him, then turns when he nudges her side. His gaze caresses her wet body, noting how her neck stretches out, beckoning him to kiss, suck and nip at the pulse beating beneath the ivory skin. Her eyes are closed, water cascades across her face, down her hair, flows across her collarbone. The suds slide in clumps, then in small rivers of white silk. Warren eases his fingers through the tangled mess of wet curls, until the water flows clear. He has her turn around again. His being aches to touch the rest of her, to press her against the shower wall and drive his cock into her slippery home. He does take control of his emotions and desire, instead adding conditioner to her long tresses.

"There," he says, before reaching around and cupping the full bosom that he admired moments before. Tracy moans, leans back and relaxes against his chest. He feels her ass rub his shaft. She wiggles provocatively. "Behave."

Tracy laughs, but stills her movements. Conditioner rests in her hair, the ingredients doing whatever they're supposed to do, while Warren grabs a bar of soap and begins to drag it tenderly against her body.

Her breast, arms, neck, back, shoulders...eventually all of her is covered by the bar. Warren puts it back on the shelf and uses his hands to massage the bubbles into a thick froth before the water defeats their cleansing purpose. More moans of delight escape Tracy's lips. Warren covers every dip and curve of his woman with his fingers, leaving her gasping for more.

Warren laughs, reaches back and wraps his fingers around the toy he had brought with him. Tracy hisses when she feels the vibrating rabbit push against her pussy lips. Instinctively her legs open, and her hand moves to grasp the thick shaft. Warren allows her assistance; together they push the rabbit into her, adjusting the extending tip so it rests upon her clit. "Now...about that promise," Warren whispers against her moist neck.

A shudder of expectation rolls through Tracy; Warren feels it, smiles wide and presses the 'on' button. Instantly the shower water is forgotten, though it coats both Warren and Tracy. He holds her; one arm wraps possessively around her waist, skates up just enough so he is able to cup and knead one of her tits. The other pushes the vibe in, pulls it out, and then pushes it in again. The small rabbit tip pulsates and teases the tiny nub. He knows Tracy wants more; her whimpers tattle on her. Warren increases the vibrating speed. Tracy curses. Her hips thrust forward; one hand moves to the shower wall; she helps Warren support her; she rocks back and forth on the faux cock. "Fuck...oh fuck, yes. Don't stop!"

A chuckle rolls easily from Warren's lips. "Nice..." he says, before twisting her nipple, and tweaking the hard pearl. "Hold this right there, baby," Warren tells her, then leaves the cock to Tracy's ministrations. He steps back a few inches and reaches for a bottle of lubricant, which he uses on his cock before placing it back on a side shelf.

Tracy pauses, readying her body for Warren's newest invasion.

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