Aria took a sharp breath, held it, and leaned in.
She started at the base, wrapping the small towel around the thick length. The terrycloth absorbed the remaining drops of jasmine-scented bathwater, but the slight friction caused the prominent vein running along the top of his shaft to pulse wildly.
Aria's throat went bone-dry. She was holding his actual, rock-hard dick in the palm of her towel-wrapped hand. It was warm to the touch, the skin velvet-smooth and rigidly engorged beneath her tentative grip.
She dragged the soft fabric slowly up the thick column, forced to intimately appreciate the sheer, terrifying girth of him as she methodically patted the moisture away.
She lifted the weight of his shaft slightly, her cheeks flaming as she carefully dabbed the towel underneath to dry his balls where they rested against the damp mattress.
