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Dirty

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Regardless of the port or if he was seeing anyone, Tim took his first shower on land by himself. Onboard, the ionic showers got him clean enough, but it just wasn't the same as a long, steamy, private shower where he didn't have to worry about how much of his precious water ration remained. He'd lather up and get clean quickly, then wallow in fantasies about anybody--everybody--he fancied, the dirtier the better. He'd have to clean up again afterward, light-headed and relaxed. Then he'd get out, dry off, and put on his glasses, which would promptly steam up in the humid air. He'd slip into the single pair of silk boxers he owned, the ones that were reserved for post-shower never mind the day of the week.

The second shower, he'd share.