Shower Scene

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Pretty much what the title implies!
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Some time later she woke and for a moment wondered where she was. Confusion only lasted a second, and then the memories flooded back, memories of pleasure and joy and love. She sighed in deep contentment, thinking back over the last few days, over which the intense happiness of finding out he was in love with her arched like a glittering rainbow. Remembered tenderness made her smile and remembered passion made her breathing quicken, but she was alone in the bed.

Some strange instinct of modesty compelled her to gather up the bed sheet around her as she got up, even though memory assured her that there really was no need for modesty around him any more.

She crossed to the window where the drapes still stood open, forgotten, and then to the half open door. As soon as she got out into the hall she heard running water, and as she crossed to the bathroom she realised that he was showering; she could hear him whistling above the noise.

Without really thinking about it, she tried the bathroom door, only to find to her surprise that it was not locked. Almost in a trance she opened it.

The cubicle was a smooth curve of glass, the entrance not a door but an overlap in the design so she found herself watching him through two sheets of glass and the steam of the hot water. Even obscured the sight of him almost took her breath away, and she drank him in as he leaned his head back under the water, the droplets running in trickles down his chest, stomach, and between his legs. As her gaze lingered on his manhood she bit her lip, remembering him rearing above her last night, the hard, thick length of him plunging deep into her, filling her, satisfying her...

He turned away, still not having seen her, clearly rinsing soapy water from his eyes, and without premeditation she found herself slipping forwards, dropping the sheet behind her, and slipping between the panes of glass. The heat and steam of the shower would probably have been enough to overcome any shyness if it she had felt at all uncertain, but the jolt of desire as she saw his backside slick with water was enough to make her instantly forget any misgivings, and she moved forward with surety to touch him and then slip her arms around his waist, pressing herself up against him.

She felt rather than heard his gasp of surprise, but it was quickly subsumed by a moan of pleasure as she slid her hands over his stomach and reached down to caress him, his body responding quickly and his arousal increasing under her hands. For a few moments he was seemed almost frozen, his breathing growing shallow as she wrapped her fingers round the rapidly hardening length of him. Then suddenly he grabbed her wrists and stopped her, only to spin around in her arms and pin her to the wall with a kiss so intense she felt as if her legs might not hold her up any more. His pressed his hips into hers, his thigh pushing hers apart as he gazed into her face with a look of naked desire, wet skin against wet skin, and then he was deep inside her, his hands under her backside, each thrust almost lifting her feet off the ground as he kissed her lips, her face, her neck.

Quickly, too quickly, she felt him come, his gasps of pleasure in her ear dying down to heaving breaths as his mind returned from the brink of ecstasy.

"Sorry," he whispered in her ear as she felt him wilt inside her, but with his next breath he added, "I'll make it up to you," laughing, but the promise in his voice sending shivers down her spine.

The water still spilling over them, and her knees almost too weak with lust to keep her upright, he pressed his leg between hers to keep her steady as he reached for the shower gel. She felt like a rag doll, too drunk with pleasure to resist, too deep in want and the need for gratification to do anything except watch him as he rubbed the gel between his hands, his eyes intense as he gazed at her, and then started to lather it slowly over her body. Her head lolled back and she let herself float as he ran his hands all over her skin and she became slippery with water and soap. He fondled her breasts until she moaned with pleasure, and she rubbed herself shamelessly against his thigh as he rolled her nipples between his fingers.

He skimmed down her back and sensually caressed her bottom, then moved lower and left her tottering on jelly knees as he knelt to stroke her legs, feeling his breathing grow heavy and faster as he ran his hands down her calves, then teasingly over her thighs and away again, his progress tortuously slow, and then at last he was parting her legs and cradling her buttocks as he nuzzled his mouth into her. She gasped as he began to explore her with his tongue, the pleasure shooting through her like electricity, almost unbearable, and yet she found herself gasping for more. He looped her knee over his shoulder and kissed her even more deeply so that she almost yelled out, no room left to think, her hands tangled in his hair and then almost involuntarily touching her own breasts as he expertly licked into her, the sensations building as he found every sensitive spot so deftly that it was as if he were reading her mind. The need and the heat building up in her became virtually insupportable, his lips and tongue skilfully playing over her as if she were a violin played by a virtuoso.

Just as he felt she could hardly stand a moment more, he finally flicked his tongue directly over her hard centre and she moaned with satisfaction as he worked her, the waves of almost agonising bliss crashing over her like a storm, building up with violent intensity, gradually driving her into frenzied rapture until she finally came, a glorious flood of pleasure, crying out his name and struggling for breath.

Still surfacing from the intense orgasm, she felt him rise to stand beside her; he reached for the shower head and then looked into her eyes with an expression which sent yet another jolt of desire coursing down her body. Without looking away he began to rinse the soap from her skin, chasing the water over her body with feathery touches of his hand, not letting her relax after the pleasure he had already given her, but teasing and tantalising her to a new level of arousal, leaving her weak with need against the side of the cubicle, feeling that she was utterly at his mercy. He sluiced her down slowly, teasing and tantalising her, taking his time, letting the water trickle over her nipples and between her legs, his hands so light over her skin that she moaned and tried to lean into his touch. He laughed, though the look of passion in his eyes did not fade, and finally he hung up the showerhead and put a hand on her waist to propel her out of the cubicle, following so close behind that she could not miss the renewed erection pressing into the small of her back. As soon as they were beyond the narrow glass passage he scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to the bedroom to lay her down on the white linen.

He lay down beside her and they paused for a few moments, merely looking, then reaching out to touch, their skin still wet, the evaporating moisture a shivery tingle. She couldn't wipe the grin off her face, and as she eventually pushed him onto his back to climb astride him she bent to murmur in his ear; "You made it up to me."

He laughed, and rose to meet her as she lowered herself onto him, his hand guiding himself inside her. As she rocked above him, pleasuring herself on his long hard length, enjoying the feel of him inside her, he reached up to squeeze her breasts and tease her nipples with his teeth. This time there was no mistake and as she went over the edge, shuddering with release, she took him with her and then they fell away from one another, panting in tired satisfaction.

"You know," he commented, "I could really get used to this."

There was a moment's silence and then her dirty laugh rang out. Too tired and too knocked out on pleasure to do anything else, he pulled the duvet up over their shoulders and soon satiation and exhaustion pulled them both into deep, restful sleep.

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