Own It

My wet hands return to your hair and start to dampen it. As you drift into the water with me, locked onto my lips, the water begins to spray in between our torsos, finally getting you sufficiently wet. One of my hands moves lazily from the back of your head, down your jaw, to your chest.

Have I felt your wet skin before?

Yes, of course I have. A few times, I guess.

But those times were different. Some of them were in public places, with other people around. The one other time we shared a shower was when we had a limited amount of time, and we were younger and so inexperienced. It wasn't like this.

Jesus Christ, it wasn't like this.

Your hands are still in relatively innocent locations, almost frozen on my skin. One is on my hip, moving with molasses-slow caution towards the curve of my rear. The other is on my back, bringing me into you. But as the water begins to warm your body closer to my temperature, your stance loosens and your fingers begin to slide on my skin. You're still being so delicate.

I rise back up on my toes. Your cock rises up with me, pressing gently against the length of my wetness, shower or no shower. I move my hips slightly forwards and backwards, to shift myself against you while I still have you between my thighs.

Your face lunges towards mine slightly as you kiss me more intently. I feel your teeth on my lip, and your hand finally reaches my ass. "Fuck, yes," I can't help breathing into your mouth.

You love validation. You egomaniac.

Your fingers begin digging into my skin where you're holding onto my ass, while your other hand moves quickly to the front of my body. You skim up my stomach until you reach one of my breasts, your wet hand kneading my wet skin.

I can feel your thickness almost pulsing between my legs. Every few moments, it seems to be rising on its own accord, seemingly wanting to get closer to my entrance. Or maybe just letting me know it's still there. Either way, it's driving me crazy. I have to do something.

"Let me taste you," I say, taking my mouth away from you. I start to lower myself, suddenly eager to have you on my lips in a different way.

A familiar recognition lights up your face before you stop me. "Wait," you say, gently. You grab a bar of soap I have nearby. "I want to touch you."

Then, I have your hands back on me, this time lubricated with soap suds. You are sliding from my back to my ass to my shoulders and breasts, then back again without much thought or effort. You return to kissing me then escape my mouth to bite my ear. I think I might die.

If anyone has arrived home, I hope the shower is muffling the sound that escapes my mouth as your teeth scrape my earlobe.

At that same moment, your cock is still resting against the opening of my pussy, and I can't tell if you notice what happens when you bite me. I feel like my whole vagina jumps up further into my body when you put your lips on my ear.

Can you feel it from where you are?

I find the strength to steal the bar of soap from your grip as you're rubbing my body, and my own hands begin to move effortlessly along your skin. Your kiss gets passionately lazy the more time my hands spend on your back. Adorable. As desirable as I find you when your ego flares up, I also find you irresistible when you are reduced to putty in front of me.

I move my hands to the front of your body and pivot us so the shower spray is on your back. I find it difficult to loosen my hips from where we are pressed up against each other, since one of your hands is still locked onto my lower back, your fingers dipping down into my curvature that you like so much. But I manage to shift slightly to make space for how I want to move.

I slide my hands down on you, and lower still. I haven't felt you properly. In order to make room for my hands, I pop my hips back. Our most sensitive areas slide against each other as I begin to set you free from between my thighs. My hands run down your stomach, and I feel you inhale softly.

Palming the soap in one of my hands, I use the other to glide along the length of you. You're just as I remember. Strong, thick, beautiful. Something inside you both excites and relaxes when you come into contact with my hand. I've felt it before. You are finally alive, but finally calm.

Your hand, which has been meandering around my breasts, begins to get ideas of its own. Slowly, your fingers leave the small angles and curves. I can't stop the shivers from going down my back as you trail my torso with that hand. I glance down at it.

I pause, grab your forearm, and raise it up to give it a rinse. As we pull back and look at each other, I casually clarify that, "soap in my lady parts isn't good."

"Right," you say, as if you surely knew that the whole time. You almost smirk, while starting to lower your hand again. I re-soap my own hand, and return to your waiting cock pressed against my skin. Conversely, I have a feeling your dick is no stranger to a good soap job. Dare I ask?

Rapidly, you're further ahead than you were before. I feel your fingers on my outer lips, making gentle contact with my clit for just a moment. I barely stay on my feet.

Once I am confident of my balance, one of my knees raises up the side of your leg as I feel you dip a finger into my wetness. I am dripping for you by this point, and you feel the difference as soon as you touch it. Slicker and wetter than water. Just when I think you may stay there for a few moments, I feel you sneak a second finger in, just quickly and shallowly, before moving your curious fingers back to my clit.

My raised foot rests on the tub faucet to give me more stability, and give you better access once I realize where you're headed. Suddenly my hand hitches on your dick, an innocent bystander in all this, when you move your slick fingers to play with me there. I can't focus. Not when you get me in the right spot.

You've started kissing me again, and my teeth find your bottom lip. My senses come back to me, and my hand picks up a rhythm stroking you again, the way you're now rhythmically strumming me.

You are starting up a heat in me. It's my turn for my kiss to become lazy. Your fingers somehow send these fiery sensations through my body. Other times I've been touched, I tense and resist out of nervousness, or somehow try to control the ebb and flow. In this moment, I feel myself give into your touch completely, and let myself feel nothing but pleasure at your hand. My upper body is leaning onto you for support. It's completely sinful and indulgent, and I don't think either of us care. My teeth make contact with your lip again. You make me ravenous.

My hand, stroking you, begins to feel lubricated only by water. I consider introducing more soap, then remember what I was inspired to do before you stopped me. Returning the soap to where it belongs and rinsing my hands, I let the shower warm me for a few seconds before I plan to retreat to the floor.

I'm rotating our bodies to rinse you off effectively in preparation for what I'm about to do, all while your hand is valiantly attempting to keep doing its job. God bless your hand. My goodness.

I lower my foot from the faucet and gently push your hand to one side. "I don't want to ask you to stop... but stop," I breathe into your ear, through the water. I begin the oral experience as soon as I can. My tongue connects with your ear, neck, and shoulder.

My hands run down the length of your arms, ending with your fingertips, as I travel down. You lightly curl your fingers up, almost holding my hands as I reach the ground.

I move my hands to your hips, then return my dominant hand to your perfect cock, now level with my face. I run my lips along the length of you and feel a light spray of water on my face. Secondary drops are coming off your shoulder from where the shower stream is hitting your back. My eyes briefly flicker up to your face as you reposition both of your hands: one of them is reaching for my tied-up hair, the other seems to be gravitating towards the built-in towel bar to steady yourself. I'm flattered.

Your eyes are already shrouded and unfocused; half-closed. Your sixth sense or your fingers in my hair tip you off that I'm looking at you, and your face drifts towards mine. I meet your gaze again.

I didn't plan on locking eyes with you as I begin my task, but that's exactly what's happening. I bring my tongue out, and run it along your cock where my lips just were. You taste so pure, with the extra water in the mix. I open my lips wider to accommodate the rest of you. The first half of you is in my mouth, with the rest held safely in my hand. I hear your breath from above me and the affectionate weight of your fingers on my head.

I've waited for this, and so have you.

I have the freedom to be as liberal as I want or need with keeping fluid in my mouth, what with being in the environment of a shower. I move you in and out, sometimes going slightly deeper into my throat. The head of your cock softly hits the back of my palate. What does that feel like, for you?

I have a decent gag reflex, but I can control it with you when I concentrate and gently breathe through my nose. I withdraw you once in a while, not just to give myself a break, but to run my tongue along the underside of your cock, up to the head, and swirl my tongue along the top, before plunging you back inside. Hopefully my mouth is just as warm and wet as the rest of the shower is for you.

I feel your hips begin to gently thrust in rhythm with my movements. You're beginning to give into your baser instincts, starting to legitimately fuck my face. Jesus Christ. I'm not into being degraded, and I don't need to see any particular side of you to get me excited. But, damn it, I start feeling myself drip when you show your enthusiasm.

For at least a few moments, I am lost. We both must be lost. The low hum of the shower, the steady rhythm of you moving in and out of my mouth and hand, and the heat surrounding both of us... we must be absorbed by all of it. At first, we don't hear anyone else in the house with us.

But clearly, you notice something. Your movements slow, and the next time I remove you from the wetness of my mouth, I look up at your face again. You don't look as relaxed as you did before.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" I ask. I don't notice anything. However, seconds later, I hear a person walking up the staircase inside my house, easily heard from where we are. You are visibly nervous, as if the bathtub must be their next stop.

"Relax," I assure you. "Someone just came home. They won't know we're here."

You shoot me a skeptical look. "Can't they hear us if we can hear them?"

"They hear the water running."

Knowing that I don't often overhear other people having sexual activities in this shower, and have nothing to compare it to, you don't believe what I'm telling you. "Let's go back to your room."

"We don't have to," I say coyly, beginning to put my lips close to the head of your dick again. "Tell me what you want, baby."

You lower your hands slightly, to help raise me up off my knees. Before I know it, I'm back standing face-to-face with you.

"I want you," you say, seriously, "on the floor of your room. Maybe even bent over. Or on top of me, because you're so fucking hot and I want to see every inch of you. Can we do that?"

For a moment, I can't breathe.

"Yes, please." I give in. You can have whatever you want.

Before we get around to turning off the water and stealthily relocating, we are kissing again. This time, your hand wastes no time moving down to where it was not long ago, and you feel how much sucking your cock has flooded me. One of your fingers slides inside me effortlessly. I am only half expecting you, and am only slightly embarrassed at how much I groan into your mouth when it happens. Own it. You own me.

"Jesus Christ," you say to me, pulling back slightly. "I've missed you."

It's almost comical, because I know what you mean. The purity of the passion in the moment and of our stripped-down emotional states lets me know you're serious. I feel the same.

"I've missed you," I reciprocate.

Your tongue is searching for mine again, slower this time. Our lips make hesitant contact, like you're teasing or daring me to go farther. Then, you look at me again.

"Now, please let me fuck you."

Just like when I heard your voice outside, something in my midsection turns to ice, then melts away. You didn't actually say it until now. That was you coming right out and saying it.

"Please," I tell you again, a little weak.

Your hand reaches down to the shower lever, making your best approximation for how to turn it off. I put my hand over yours and quickly guide you so we don't end up in freezing cold water within a few seconds. Suddenly, we are simply holding each other, nude, in a quiet room.

Not weird at all.

I reach up and open the curtain, looking for where you placed the towel I gave you, and where I can swipe a new one for myself. You are climbing out of the tub as I crack the door and scan the hallway. I don't see anyone. Thankfully, we only have to make it several feet back to my room without being conspicuous.

"Someone's going to notice us," you whisper from behind me.

I shoot you a look, closing the door back up. "Yeah, if you talk while I'm checking to see if anyone is around. Jeez."

I do appreciate how we're able to fit some additional bickering into our lovemaking. It's really an accomplishment worth noting. I like us.

Confident no one is around, I open the door and pull you along with me. Soon enough, we are closed inside my room once again, slightly damp from our escapade.

As I shut the door, we look at each other. One of us begins to stifle a laugh, and the other can't help but follow. Really, the whole thing is more hilarious than anything, when you consider what we just did. It all happened so fast.

And... it's not over?

"Can you believe?" I ask you.

"Who's here?" you ask me.

"I don't know! You didn't see me leave, did you?"

We pause. You remember why you're here, and your hands reach for me. "Absolutely not."

You're already close, but you come closer. Our towels have taken care of some of the shower moisture, but so has this dry summer day. At least your towel seems to be securely tied around your waist. Mine, as per usual, is barely hanging on around my chest because it only wraps around my body one-and-a-half times and I don't have much to hold it up. But you don't seem to mind. Your hands are already trying to quest inside of it.

I think you're coming in to kiss me, when you say, "Now, what would you like to do in here?"

"Didn't you say something about the floor?" I ask.

"I did."

"That's awfully... interesting."

You raise your eyebrows. I wonder why. There could be so many reasons. I wonder if you're afraid I'm going to say no. I mean, it's just the floor.

I slowly leave your grip, and walk over to my bed. I only have one large bedspread for the current season, but I absolutely do not mind washing it later. This is all worth it. You are so worth it.

I lift it off my bed and sweep it onto my carpeted floor, creating an additional cushioned section for us to lie down on. As an afterthought, I toss one of my backup pillows down as well. It couldn't hurt.

"It's not too humble for you, is it?" I ask.

"As long as I'm not too humble for you," you answer.

"Shut up, you rock star. Get over here."

I kneel down on the blanket, with my towel still half-heartedly wrapped around my body. You are still in yours as well, and I still think it looks more securely tied than mine. You begin to join me, and I can already see your eyes drifting to the top of my towel. It's dipping low, like the poorly fitted neckline of a dress I am borrowing from a larger-busted friend. You tug at the fabric.

"You too," I whine. I reach for your waistline.

My towel begins to fall from my chest just as I get my fingers underneath the fabric at your hips. I also appreciate, along with our sporadic bickering, how quickly we are able to fall back into things. Both in the short term and long term.

The fact you're still here is proof of that.

You tear more of my towel from me, noting that my shoulders are still damp with drops of water. You drag the loose cloth along my shoulders to dry them off. "You're not cold, are you?" you ask, innocently.

"Not with you," I answer, cheekily.

Your smile returns. Hungry. Greedy. Your lips come for me.

I hardly give you a chance to dictate what happens next as I raise a hand to your neck and ease you down to the floor with me. Your chest is back on my chest, our skin keeping each other warm again. My fiddling hands continue tugging at your towel until I feel it pull loose completely. Mine is already nearly off, pinned underneath me, with you right above me. I have no desire to make love on a pile of wet towels, so I lift my pelvis in an effort to drag the damp terry cloth out from under us and toss it aside.

Although I have every intention of bringing my hips closer to your body, you interpret my movement as extra enthusiasm. But believe me. I'm enthusiastic.

You put a firmer grip on my body, roll your weight to one side, and take me with you. Suddenly, I'm on top of you, our lips still locked. I pull back from our kiss, surprised you were able to pull that off so fluidly. You're not making a demand, but you are showing me.

"Tell me," I say in your ear. "Tell me what you want, babe." I want to hear it from your mouth. I punctuate my request with my lips and tongue making contact with your neck.

I can hear your breath, then your velvet voice as you say, "I want to see you on top of my cock."

Yes.

"I want you to see it," I tell you.

Both my legs are still draped to one side of your body. Let's change that. While keeping my face close to your jawline and neck, I begin to pivot my hips so that I can straddle you.

But, wait. Before I do, I make a snap decision to revisit your manhood with my mouth one more time. I slip down to your hips, very quickly, and gently grip what I want. I innocently run my tongue along the length of you, wanting to moisten you again before we start. But then I can't help myself from putting the head of you back inside my mouth completely, and sliding you in and out a few times.

I'm aware I shouldn't get distracted. I withdraw you, and move back up your body to bury my face in your neck again. My left leg lifts up so I can get where both of us want me to be. I settle my weight back down again, and we make contact. The hard heat of your cock rests against the wet heat you've been creating between my legs.

I surprise myself at the precision we've accidentally created. I may be able to push you inside me by shifting my hips downward in a certain way. And so I try. I feel the head of you sink into the recess of my opening, just where we begin to feel resistance. It feels like you're in the perfect location.

I lift my head up from your neck, and our lips connect. I see your eyes stay open, and mine must as well, as I push down slightly and feel your inches penetrate me. I am reminded how wet you have made me since you got here, or however long you've been toying with me. It isn't easy to handle your thickness at first, but -- my god -- it's almost effortless when you prepare me to this level.

Your eyelids flutter, probably against your will. I lightly graze your lips one last time before I start to raise up my torso. My hips pivot, and more of my weight goes into inserting you into my pussy. After a few back and forth movements, I am taking you fully into me.

We both breathe a little more heavily. I can't help but return a hand to your hair and run it down the side of your face. You're so fucking handsome; I can't stand it.