Downpour

It was a hell of a surprise, you know.

I tend to take my showers in the mornings, and of course (since you generally sleep like a rock and have to be dragged out of bed even when it's noon already) you generally don't even know about it until I've finished and am already drying off. So it was one hell of a shock when I shut the spray off and was busily lathering myself, getting all slick and slippery, and turned around to see you watching me from around the corner of the doorway.

I might have twitched violently. Might even have jumped backwards in shock and cracked my head against the wall. I'd never admit to that, of course. But I was startled, and that must have been fairly obvious from your fit of giggles. "Oh my," you said, grinning. "Did I scare you?"

The look on my face must have made any reply unnecessary. "Well, let's see if I can make it up to you," you said, and came the rest of the way into the room, and I saw that you were as naked as I. There was another surprise -- I don't see you walking around without clothes much, because you know it's bound to result in me pouncing, every single time -- but I had no time to worry about hows or whys, seeing you sashay across the tile floor, breasts swaying, licking your lips. I felt my cock twitch -- it was already semi-hard from when I'd been lathering up and stroking myself a bit -- and then it wilted a little when you opened the shower door and the colder air rushed in. "Aack! That's cold!" I complained, and you put a finger to my lips. "Shush. No talky now. Is time for the sexings."

Well, now. How could I possibly complain about that? Not for the first time, I reflected how lucky I was, as you leaned forward, rubbing yourself against me, getting yourself wet and soapy as well. "Not enough," you decided, and turned on the shower again. Hot water blasted over both of us, rinsing some of the suds down between us, but only long enough to get you all wet and shiny. You shut the spray off again, then took the shower gel and poured a generous helping all over your tits. "Get me nice and clean, baby?" you begged in a little-girl voice, and wow! did that ever turn my crank. Far be it from me to refuse a lady's request, so of course I had to start fondling and squeezing and soaping those lovely breasts, my hands running all over your torso, getting you all lathered and slick. You moaned and your own hands went to work, running up and down my body as well, encouraging my cock to rise again, working up plenty more lather to replace whatever had been rinsed away by the brief spray.

You slid your hands lower, wrapping them quite firmly around my cock. "My favorite toy," you breathed, and began to stroke me in a steady, insistent rhythm that left no doubt about the eventual end. My breath was already coming fast at the novelty of the whole situation and I still couldn't quite believe I was here, with a hot woman in the shower squeezing and stroking my soapy cock, rubbing herself against me, suds all over her and dripping slowly down her body.

Suddenly you knelt in front of me. Not for the first time I was grateful for that nice soft shower mat. I thought at first you were going to take me in your mouth, and opened my own mouth to protest -- I might want to wash your mouth out, but not with soap -- but then realized immediately you had something else in mind. You leaned forward and wrapped both of those tits around my cock, sliding me up and down, in and out of that magnificent valley. I groaned with lust. The sensation was indescribable. Slithering and slipping, hardness wrapped by softness. I closed my eyes and leaned back, and heard a quiet but firm "No" from you; opening my eyes again, I saw that impish grin you do so well. "No," you repeated. "I want you to see me titty-fucking you. I want you to see me getting you off. I want you to watch as you paint my tits with your cum."

You licked your lips, and increased your pace, squeezing together more tightly around my heated cock. "And baby, I want it now."

I moaned your name, my legs and torso tingling. It felt like electricity was running along every nerve ending, starting at my head and feet and being drawn downward and upward towards my center, my whole existence funnelling inward to the sensation of my cock sliding between your tits. I felt myself begin to tremble, and my breath grew more ragged. "Oh," I moaned, and you moaned back. "Yes, baby. That's it. Come for me. Come on  me. Squirt that hot cum between my soapy tits. I need some good skin cream." You speeded up just a bit more, eyes still locked on mine, mischief dancing in their depths. "Be a good boy and come for me, lover. I want it now."

I gasped and shook and shouted your name as I blasted off without any warning at all. It hit me like a highballing freight train, pleasure exploding all through me even as I exploded between your tits. My cum mixed with the suds and water and lather, creating a hot, sticky mess which you promptly began rubbing all over yourself. When I had no more to give, you wrapped your hands around me and stroked upward, milking a last few drops out to land on the tips of your nipples.

"Good boy," you said softly. And turned on the shower again, and the hot water poured over us, washing some of the sticky mess down between us, but doing nothing to dampen my arousal. Somehow, I was still hard. I reached for your hand, and pulled you to your feet, and you grinned, and hooked a leg around my ass, spreading yourself for me. Hot, you were so hot, slick with excitement, slick with suds, slick with sweat. I slid into you and you moaned and I moaned and you leaned back against the wall, bracing yourself, readying yourself for the invasion, awaiting the pounding we both knew we needed now, fitting yourself to me with practiced skill and lustful, hungry hoyden joy.

Soon we would need another cleanup period. Hazily, rocking in and out of you with hard sharp thrusts, I wondered if we would even make it out of the shower at all today.