A Reputation Ch. 09 - Dry Shower

Rachel was only the second girl that I was going to be with more than once, since all this began. Why was the fact that this was a repeat performance so important to me as to intrude on my brain at a time like this?

Rachel's hand pushed its way down inside the elastic waistband of the boat shorts I was wearing that evening, her grasping fingers making my introspection recede even further into the background as she stroked me. But it didn't make it go away.

It was not that I wanted a girlfriend. That was fortunate for right now, because temptation would inevitably wreck any attempt at fidelity on my part pretty damned fast. I was constantly being presented with marvelous opportunities that I would not be able to, and damned sure didn't want to anyway, turn down. Opportunities like my present one to remove Rachel's bra. My fingers fumbled between her breasts, and she playfully muttered, "It unhooks in back, genius."

In all this crazy couple of weeks, I had not encountered a traditional, back-closure bra. Will variety never cease?

I hoped not.

But.

Yeah, but.

I did not want a girlfriend. I did not want someone to Love, although I fully intended to love the shit out of Rachel right now. But I did kind of feel like a public convenience sometimes.

No, that wasn't right either. People used public conveniences all the time, repeatedly. I was more like a Bucket List item. Do me, and move on.

With the bra loose, and my hands up under the cups, exploring her softness, I found that my mouth was jealous. I tugged both shirt and unhooked bra up over her head, and Rachel was most cooperative about it. Though her hand came off my cock to allow it, she also was quite eager to put it back in my pants as soon as her shirt puddled to the tile floor.

"It is going to be so nice to suck on these without choking on shower water," I growled, bending to take a spiffy little, pert nipple into my mouth. Rachel laughed, her hand still happily tracing the outlines of my cock.

But I wasn't a Bucket List item either, I supposed... I was Disney World! A special event you enjoyed once in a great while. Could I live with being Space Mountain? I could certainly live with it right now, as Rachel was tugging my pants down.

Her nipple necessarily slipped from my lips as she descended to her knees, and my pants descended to my ankles. She tugged at them again, and looked up at me. "Step out, so I can kneel on them instead of the tile floor." I hastily obliged. As I did so, I tugged my shirt off as well, offering it to increase the cushion. I'm so very considerate.

Not. I wanted no discomfort that might make her rush.

Rachel held my cock lightly in her fingertips, and leaned forward. Keeping her lips closed and relaxed, she began to stroke her face with my member. Her eyes shut, she caressed her features with my swollen helmet. It was weird and so fucking erotic to feel myself bumping over her soft cheeks, chin, pursed but still closed lips, and even her passionately shut eyes.

Doubts could wait. Tonight, I was definitely happy to be Space Mountain. Doubts were stupid anyway.

She looked up at me, opening her eyes once more, my tip softly resting against one smooth cheek. "I've been pissed ever since it happened that I didn't take the chance to do this the first time," she said, matter of factly.

"I had similar regrets," I chortled. Then I lowered my register. "I have other regrets I intend to correct here shortly."

"Do you?" she asked archly. "Please," she purred. Then she let her mouth open at last and started licking my length with fabulously agonizing slow strokes, each ending with a flourish around my tip.

When she opened her mouth wide and slid it down around the by now desperately swollen head of my cock, my moan was fully drowned out by the loud (and still bad) music coming from the party. She didn't suck more than a couple of inches into her mouth, but she did it straight off, and was bobbing up and down that length swiftly.

Suddenly, she popped off me with a gasp, grinned up at me, then bent down to kiss my balls. She took her sweet, marvelous time about it, too. Her hand slowly stroked my shaft as she sucked on my scrotum. Then, just as suddenly, my balls hung wetly in the air as she rose slightly and almost instantly was bobbing up and down on my cock again, hand still stroking me. This time, her tongue was much more active against my member inside her mouth.

With the music so loud, I let my voice give full-throated approval to what she was doing, and I felt her lips curl in appreciation of my moans of happiness. It took a sadly short period of time before I was wavering on my feet with rising tension inside me.

"Let me know when you are going to come," Rachel gasped, momentarily releasing me, and incidentally buying me a small delay for that very event. "I want to be ready for every drop," She cooed, then took me back in between her lips.

"Not... long," I gasped, in reply.

She just gripped me harder, and jerked faster. Her lips writhed around my shaft and she bobbed relentlessly, tongue lashing at my cock with each entrance. Not long at all.

I groaned that it was time, and there was only a brief grunt of acknowledgment, which did nothing to pause her efforts.

I felt the surge rising up, and I clamped down, trying to hold it at bay, but it was fruitless. My body was not to be denied, and I felt myself gush into Rachel's feverish mouth. My knees wobbled dangerously, my vision blurred, and my voice tried manfully, and failed, to crest over the music with a single, mighty, "Ohhhhh!"

I looked down to see Rachel sucking and swallowing on me. Her once pumping hand now was gently stroking upward on my already softening length, milking me for any remaining cum that might have lingered after that headlong rush.

"Holy fuck!" I gasped. "Now I regret you not doing that before even more!"

"Fwang foo," Rachel replied, still not letting my cock from her mouth. Then she did let it slip free and we both laughed.

I pulled her, still chuckling, to her feet and sandwiched her between my body and the wall, pressing my lips to hers in a still breathless kiss. Her lips that had so recently made my joyful cup overflow were wonderful against mine. I'd have kissed her like that for hours, but she deserved some 'corrected omissions' of her own.

And I really wanted to give them to her...

I slid my hands across her breasts, then down to her hips, replacing them on her tits with my eager mouth, kissing and licking each hard nipple in turn. After a happy minute or two of that, I looked up at her and smiled. "Lower?"

"Oh fuck yeah, please."

I smiled and kissed my way down her belly. I knelt on the floor, then turned and grabbed my clothes for my use. The floor was hard. And I shifted them at least once. My wallet made an uncomfortable lump. Knees no longer sore nor cold, I reached around and grabbed yet another quick feel of her seriously firm ass as I nuzzled her navel once more time. Then I slid my hands to the fly of her jeans and popped open each of the six buttons holding it closed in turn. I leaned in and ran the tip of my nose up and down the front of her sweetly utilitarian panties. Rachel murmured happily and trembled just a tad.

Her pants were tight-fitting, but of a soft and slightly stretchy fabric, which was perfect for what I wanted to do, which was to unwrap this gift slowly and deliberately. I peeled the waistbands of both panties and pants away from her skin just a tad, enough to start rolling them down her hips, very slowly. It really was like peeling off wrapping paper on a gift where you were sure you knew what was inside, but were nonetheless very excited to receive.

Our first time had been so feverish, so frantic, I had not noticed much about Rachel's pussy, other than our mutual need for me to fill it immediately. As such, it was a neat surprise to encounter the narrow Brazilian, neatly trimmed and alone as far as pubic hair went. I nuzzled it as I finished rolling her clothes down to her crotch. I looked up at her face and grinned evilly as I slid my hand underneath her, and stroked, then probed her nether lips.

Rachel just determinedly wiggled her hips to let her pants slide lower, and I happily gave up and assisted, lifting first one delicate ankle then the other from her last vestiges of clothing. She had a teddy bear tattoo on the left ankle... I gave it a kiss, then forgot about it promptly, because I had greener pastures.

From the bear on the outside of her ankle, I moved my lips up along the front of her shins, wrapping around to the inside of her leg by the time I reached the knee. She leaned back against the wall of the large, three shower station enclosure we were in. Some moron had decided that a long, horizontal, ADA-compliant hand rail along that entire wall would be just the ticket, in a bathroom where there were already two handicap-accessible, individual stalls right next to the main shower bay. God bless that moron, because I could see Rachel leaning against that wall, hands on the rail, bracing herself up with locked elbows.

That girl and I, when we were just hanging out, were cheerfully at odds, or at least out of sync, on everything from the Lakers, to Chaucer, to pineapple on pizza. (Yes, Rachel is one of those people.) But it was very clear that we were practically inside each others' heads when we were getting it on. Not having to support her weight fully, I now lifted both legs and draped her knees over my shoulders. Rachel just grinned down at me in anticipation, arms locked and supporting much of her weight.

I dragged my tongue up her inner thigh in one, long, slobbery lick until I reached the electric taste of her more than eager pussy. She hissed when my taster first ran across her crotch. I flexed my tongue from a wide paddle into a firm point and pushed it along the easily parted lips of her slit. "Ohhhhh, lick me," she growled, hands flexing on the rail, adjusting her weight on it and my shoulders just as she wanted it.

I licked her all right. I licked her insides. I licked her outside gates. I pressed my tongue deep into her folds, dragging it along, bathing it in her flavorful juices. I delved for a while, enjoying myself and the way Rachel rocked her hips in response, but her semi-precarious position reminded me that this act needed to be less about the journey, and more about ensuring a maximally marvelous conclusion.

I reluctantly pulled my face from her valley, and let a finger explore it instead, wiggling in bit by bit. I worked in first one knuckle then another, and slid the finger in and out of her. She groaned demandingly, "Another one," just as I was deciding to try just that.

See? In. Sync.

I stacked two fingers vertically in line with her opening, and worked them in gently. She throbbed around my digits, moaning as I switched them to side-by-side and began to pump them in and out of her. I bent my head back down and simultaneously curled up the invading fingertips. My tongue sought out and began to circle and stroke her clit, as my fingers quested within for where she would best like them to caress.

As I expected, I'd found my expressway to the destination. "Oh Jesus, Will! That is... so fucking good," Rachel groaned loudly, still drowned by the band in the common area. The band was currently covering Smells Like Teen Spirit, a song which does indeed smell....

"I love this fucking song," she groaned.

Once more making it clear: not the perfect woman.

But she sure could come spectacularly. Her head banged back against the wall behind her, hard enough to worry me for a moment, but a concussion would have prevented the writhing, spasming, undulating waves of orgasm that suddenly shot through Rachel in spite of the impact, wouldn't it?

Her legs dangling over my back suddenly crossed and clenched, and her hips thrust upward against my face. She flat out screamed with joy. Her body sagged, but her locked elbows held her up somehow.

She had more waves in her, ready to go. But I stopped, leaving her hanging. Intentionally. I wanted to fuck her while she was already on that high.

Instead, I let her legs slide from my shoulders, and held her gently as she sagged against the wall. Her shoulders, first right, then left, dipped and shuddered. "Oh. Oh, wow. That was... Wow," she gasped. Then her eyes focused (mostly) on mine and she suddenly asked intently. "Please tell me you have condoms on you this time."

I went for the Mystery Man approach, and smiled with a shrug and empty, upturned palms. Before the surprised glare could form on her face fully, I was diving for my pants. I pulled a cover from my pocket, and turned back to her, starting to carefully tear open the packet. Rachel impatiently snatched it from my hands and, with slightly trembling fingers, removed the rubber. She was careful about applying it, and her hands felt great on my very much revived penis, but the process was swift and business-like, not the circus-act, semi-BJ of the last condom donning I'd had. This was exactly my desire too.

I wanted, no, I needed to be inside Rachel again. She felt the same impulses, I could tell.

With the condom applied, Rachel wrapped her arms around my shoulders and kissed me hard. Our tongues meshed as she pulled me back to the wall, her back against the tile. Then, without stopping our kiss, I felt her release me with her arms, and solidly brace them once more on that improbably convenient horizontal railing.

My hands found her super-toned butt, and lifted her out from the wall, bending my knees slightly at the same time. Our lips pulled away from each other, and our eyes bored into each other. Neither of us had a hand to spare for alignment purposes, and I fumbled my hips around just a little, before my tip found her eager, welcoming entrance.

I usually take my time on first penetration. The slow progress is both tease and prolongation of pleasure, as well as exploration. Our mildly acrobatic position gave me other ideas this time, and I drove myself into her all the way in a single, powerful, swift, and deliciously resisted stroke.

"Ohhhh, Shiiiit,"Rachel moaned aloud, both her voice and my answering, almost as powerful moan were drowned out still by the awful band. Neither of us quieted much as I began to drive into her, hard.

It was a weird position to fuck in--athletic and pretty tiring. I knew it was not sustainable for long, and I also knew that it wouldn't matter. Rachel was already on an orgasmic high, and I had no intention of holding myself back if I managed to come along for the ride. I just wanted this to be a big, feverish, frenzied fuck.

"Oh! This... is perfect," she panted. After a moan or two, she gritted out, "You have no... idea how often... I thought of, oh shit, fucking you lately..."

I refrained from observing that our doors were maybe eighteen feet apart... I knew her reasons. And I had my own, of course. But I was going to do my level best, in the coming hour, to keep the fact that my door was practically across the hall from hers much closer to the surface of her mind going forward.

I slapped into her with eager thrusts, letting myself concentrate solely on my own stimulation, knowing, seeing, that Rachel was being driven pell-mell toward the precipice again. We both let ourselves revel in making noise as we fucked. Each groan or moan by one of us driving the other to some answering gasp or exclamation.

Rachel's heels rose and pressed against my ass, adding their pressure to each ramming penetration I made. Her insides were alive, and tight, and made my cock shriek with pleasure, condom or no.

As I anticipated, it did not last long. Suddenly, she was screaming, "Yes!" repeatedly and at the top of her lungs. Her hips spasmed, and her heels lost their precision against my ass. The peak of her first orgasm crested, and her shoulders slumped a tiny bit. She gabbled something quietly that I could hear but not make out, but I just kept thrusting, feeling too close to want to stop, and knowing that she had more ecstasy to endure.

She indeed did, and her eyes almost immediately rounded once more, her mouth opened wide, and a keening wail erupted from her lips. The ripples of pleasure running through her body, radiating outward from the flesh around my cock, quivering her lovely breasts, and undulating her high cry, sent me over the edge in turn.

"Oh fucking, fuck!" I gasped loudly, as I exploded inside her, cum rushing along and out of my cock in a hurtling punch of pure, mindless pleasure. My thrusts became ragged and jerky, but I instinctively kept them going, both for my own animal need, and for Rachel's. She was not yet done. My body screamed in exhaustion, and my cock in over-stimulation, but I rode her on.

Clawing for breath, Rachel suddenly shouted a single, "Shit!" and spasmed a final time. It wracked her body hard, and as the final, delirious paroxysm faded, so did her strength. Her arms wobbled, and started to collapse.

Thankfully, when we began I had told my brain to look for that happening, and I instinctively pressed forward, pinning her to the wall with my own torso hard enough to slow and arrest her fall. She flopped bonelessly, panting and mewling for air. When her feet reached the floor, they were still not strong enough to support her, so I continued to hold her up, my own knees now bent. We kissed, eagerly but without the requisite oxygen to make it truly passionate.

I risked letting go of her with one hand and used it to secure the rubber as I pulled free of her. I pulled it off and tied it before the over-full reservoir could leak all over us. For the moment, I tossed it away to the floor.

We kissed on, in post-coital meld. My hands explored her breasts, and I felt hers caress my back. My cock dangled between us, momentarily defeated. It was perfect, post-coital companionship as we mentally reassembled our shattered souls.

"Holy shit, Will! That was incredible," Rachel said, her voice echoing around the tiled room. "It was even better than..." She cut herself off. The echo was the only thing we were hearing.

How long ago had the band gone on a break? How long had we been fucking at the top of our lungs with no awful Nine Inch Nails covers to drown out our pleasure?

"There is no way we aren't busted again, is there?" Rachel asked with a smile.

I shook my head. "The universe seems determined to embarrass me," I pulled her against me again and kissed her again briefly. "But it also compensates me well."

"I feel fully compensated," Rachel chirped.

We both looked at the door. In no rush to open it. But we did sigh and start sorting out our clothes from the various piles they were scattered around in.

"You realize this sort of thing is the reason we can't actually try going out together, right?" Rachel observed, pulling up her panties. I paused to watch the process. It was worth watching.

"Could not stand having an audience every day, and twice on Sundays?" I laughed.

"No! I mean..."

I cut her off. "Relax, I understand exactly what you are saying. When we inevitably broke up, we'd never do this again."

"Yeah, and good as we are like this, if we started dating, we'd break up in a heartbeat," she laughed, relieved that I agreed with her thinking.

"Yeah," I snorted. "Once the NBA season gets really going, I'm going to have a hard enough time putting up with your Lakers bullshit, just being your neighbor!"

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really."

"I have a Laker Girl cheerleader outfit..."

...!

"As your neighbor, I will put up with your Lakers bullshit from time to time. Perhaps enthusiastically," I intoned solemnly.

By this point, we were both pulling on our shirts, and looking each other over, not salaciously, but to ensure we had no gobs of stray cum or saliva in our hair or something.