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“You’ve been there forever, I’m cold!” I said, shivering next to her.

“I have not!” she argued.

We wrestled for a second, both of us laughing until James shoved me under the spray and grabbed her body wash and a washcloth.

“I’ll do your back.”

She pushed my hair over my shoulder and started gently scrubbing my skin with the soap and the cloth. I closed my eyes and luxuriated in her touch.

“Mmmmm,” I said.

Warm lips caressed my ear. “I like hearing you make that sound.”

What we’d done together had been wonderful. A revelation. But this? This was amazing too.

“Just keep touching me, James,” I said. “Please keep touching me.” I heard the desperate note in my voice, but did it matter at this point? The woman had literally finger-fucked me until I came. Most of my shame had kind of gone out the window. I was enjoying myself too much.

There would be time later to analyze this experience and obsess over the implications, but right now, all I was going to do was let myself have this pleasure. The point of my Fuckit List was not to do shit just to do it, but to let myself be free. Of expectations, of the rules I set for myself, of rules I didn’t want to follow anymore.

I turned to face James and took the washcloth from her. “My turn.” I wanted to do some touching too.

* * *

It wasearly evening when we left the bathroom, me still wrapped in a towel.

“You can borrow something. I don’t think I’d mind seeing you in my clothes,” James said, pulling a few things from her dresser. On the top were various bottles and containers, and I drifted over, searching for her signature scent. I tested a few bottles until I found it, inhaling deeply. It wasn’t as nice from the bottle as it was when it mingled with her natural smell.

James presented me with a T-shirt, shorts, and a soft pair of bottoms. Why was thinking about wearing her underwear arousing?

Since she’d already seen me naked for a while, I dropped the towel and slid into her clothes. They were so soft and smelled like her. While I was getting dressed, she had too, in a very similar outfit and held a brush.

“Want me to work on your hair?”

I opened my mouth to tell her that I could brush my own hair, thank you very much, but then I shut it.

“That would be nice, thank you.” James had me sit on the bed as she perched on her knees behind me. She moved the brush through my damp hair with so much care.

“Your hair is gorgeous, but it always has been.” I’d been blonder in my youth, so as my hair had gotten darker, I’d needed chemical help to lighten it to the shade I preferred.

“When did you dye yours like that?” I asked.

James snorted. “I’ll show you my hair journey in a minute. Let’s just say I went through a spectrum before doing this.”

She’d done so much with her college experience and I’d done a whole lot of nothing. Had barely even dated. My main focus had been on my studies and getting the best grades I could and majoring in business with the intention of someday getting an MBA or perhaps going to law school. Not because I wanted to, but because I knew my parents would have been so proud.

My grades had always been stellar, and I’d made the dean’s list and graduated with honors.

Most of it had been a miserable experience, honestly. I could admit that now. Would it have killed me to dye my hair or spend a few nights doing something silly with my friends?

I couldn’t help but think of all the time I’d wasted.

“All done,” James said, still running her fingers through my hair.

I glanced at her over my shoulder. “Do you want me to do yours?”

Her grin was soft and sweet. “Yes please.”

We swapped places and I brushed out her hair, enjoying the task more than I should. I took longer than I needed to because I wanted to keep touching her.