In the shower, Izar pulls you with his arms, the hot water from the shower dripping and wetting your naked bodies that are stuck together. He puts his head on your breasts and inhales, nibbling them sublimely. Izar Aéster is like a star.

Izar: "Perfect."

He laughs softly, his laugh seems like a piece of God himself. He grabs your buttocks, squeezing them and following with a low, hot gasp. You two have been dating for two years but you seem like an intimate old couple, the intimacy is outrageous and surreal.

It's like a sweeping melody coming from the propitious wishing well, it's deep, faithful as a dog. As if your mind screamed: "And I shouldn't cry, but I love it, star boy" and his deep touches responded: "I just want to see you shine 'cause I know you are a star, girl".

The two of you start soaping each other, between erotic squeezes and kisses in the small bathroom stall. The dimly lit environment is bluish, like pre-night velvet. An immensity blue, dark as the bottom of the ocean, but the breath shared hot like a feverish desire.