The shower gel she squirted into my hand smelt divine; woody and musky with some citrus high notes. It was meditative, massaging the gorgeously scented foam into her soft skin. With the hormones from my orgasm still filling my body and all my senses alight, washing my Goddess felt like the purest form of worship. I lost all concept of time as I covered each inch of her body, devoting all my attention to the task. All too soon I was finished and she stepped back under the torrent of water from the shower, rinsing herself off. She then gave me a much more functional scrub and though I ached to have her hand inside me again, she spent as little time as possible near my pussy, just making sure I was clean from my own fluids earlier.