It may be mundane, but that doesn't mean Sweeney isn't awash with more than soap and water. His skin is alive, anticipating every touch, and yet, he does his very best to be patient.
All that waiting only makes the moment when she stops stand stark. It takes Sweeney a second more to follow along, but with a tight nod, he bends to chase the bowl. At his height, it's awkward at best, so he takes another approach. While it's uncomfortable to fill the bowl from standing, doing so from kneeling is much easier.
So he drops down on both, filling the bowl before he looks up at her, savoring the opportunity to do so at this angle. Then he follows suit; wetting her skin, even though there's no need, and starting the soaped washing at her legs. Sweeney does his best to make it meaningful, hoping he's doing it mostly right, at least. When he glides his hand over the swell of one hip, his eyes lift again in soft question.
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All that waiting only makes the moment when she stops stand stark. It takes Sweeney a second more to follow along, but with a tight nod, he bends to chase the bowl. At his height, it's awkward at best, so he takes another approach. While it's uncomfortable to fill the bowl from standing, doing so from kneeling is much easier.
So he drops down on both, filling the bowl before he looks up at her, savoring the opportunity to do so at this angle. Then he follows suit; wetting her skin, even though there's no need, and starting the soaped washing at her legs. Sweeney does his best to make it meaningful, hoping he's doing it mostly right, at least. When he glides his hand over the swell of one hip, his eyes lift again in soft question.
"Good?" He's cautiously optimistic.
"Correct?"