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her lower back, urging her to lean over and place her hands on the tiles in front.  He nudged at her knees to saying, 'open for me Elle.'
    Elle opened her stance so that her feet were shoulder width apart and felt her sex open to the air and water around them.  She felt brazen and wanton and a little unsure before his touch quickly returned and shunned all doub t from her mind.
    Mark bent to his knees at Elle's behind and began to soap her buttocks.  His hands slipped to her delicate cleft and massaged and rubbed.  He then moved lower, soaping her folds and rubbing her in the areas she loved.  He leant back for th e water to sluice the soap away.  He then returned, this time with his tongue.  He bent to her intimate parts, pulled her open with his hands and licked, sucked and lavished attention on her until she cried out with the pleasure.  He rose to his feet as s h e was still mid climax and pushed himself deep within her.  His shaft reached to her core, filling her up so much it was intensely pleasurable. He withdrew and then pushed again and again pumping himself to climax as she writhed and squealed with the over w helming sensation gripping her.  Mark came forcefully on a guttural cry of his own, loud and deep, the sound of a man spent, his wet hot seed filling her cavern.  They remained joined for several moments.  Mark then pulled himself out and she turned aroun d to be encircled in his arms.  They stayed together in the shower for a little longer, enjoying each others closeness.  They quickly rinsed clean and then Mark turned the shower off.  They stepped out and wrapped up in large white towels.  They dressed to g ether in the bathroom, exchanging furtive glances at each other, both wondering the very same thing.  What was this magic between them?
    Mark and Elle walked out of the hospital holding hands.  'I never asked you where you were headed yesterday.' Elle pass ed her bags to the taxi driver.
    'I'm headed to the coast.  I'm going to my Grandmother's properties.'
    An uneasy feeling coursed through Mark. 'Properties?'
    'Yes, my grandmother lived in Morfa Nevyn in North Wales and had her home and business there.  I'm g oing there to take over the business and hopefully build myself a home.'
    Mark's face registered discomfort.  He had a bad feeling that maybe they should have shared surnames earlier.
    'Elle, was your Grandmother Joy-Leah May?'
    'Oh my God, yes! How on earth did you..?'  A sudden dawning of realisation dawned on her. His name was Mark.  Surely not.  Not the Mark who had caused her Grandmother such an ordeal in her final weeks of life.  'Mark, what is your full name?'
    'Mark-Anthony Hunter.'
    She stared at him, d isbelief flooding through her.  Revulsion spilled through her.  She couldn't believe the man she thought she liked so much was Mark-Anthony Hunter, the man who had harassed and bothered her Grandmother in disgusting ways.  Mark-Anthony Hunter was a shark. A property shark.  He owned half the world.  He was famous.  Rich and famous, buying and selling property and receiving huge returns.  Mark-Anthony had been interested in Elle's Grandmother's hotel, The Sanctuary.  He had seen it as a huge investment to a dd to his portfolio of riches.  What he hadn't realised was the effect it had had on her Grandmother.  How she had agonised over it, felt pressured by them. 
    She was disgusted with herself, with him.  Anger and spite in her eyes she said in no uncertain terms,' Mark-Anthony Hunter, I never wish to see you ever again.'
    And with that she climbed in the taxi and was gone.  Mark stood watching the car drive away. He couldn't stop her, was stunned into silence.  She was right.  She had every right to be angry with him.  The look in her eyes stayed with him that evening till he slept.  And there he relived their time together and agonised about how to make her see that he only had good intentions, that he was a changed man.  He wondered if she would