The Shower

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Was it her imagination or something more paranormal?
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The water was warm, beading on her soft flesh as the shower head sprayed her body, washing away the stresses of the day. Only ten minutes ago she has let herself into her house, an older home build almost a century ago. It had been a long day at the office and then a crowded train ride home. Exhaustedly she had shed her skirt, blouse, bra and panties which now lay on the floor beside her bed.

The water feeling like a gentle caress after the day she had just had. As she lathered her body he watched. She did not know he was there, watching. With her eyes closed, her hands rubbing, massaging the slippery soap into her smooth white flesh.

Leaning back against the glass shower screen, an impression left in the steam covered class, she washed and massaged between her legs.

Fingers slick with soap rub against her clit. 'Ohhh." She moans softly.

With the shower screen for support, fingers work delicately stimulating her. Manipulating her sensitive flesh. Exciting her. Arousing her. Making her body groan with desire.

Eyes closed, that's when she felt him touch her. He whispers the sound almost lost in the shower. "Don't open your eyes."

She nods. Feels his lips touch her. Soft almost impossibly gentle. Like a feather tip brushing her lips. She just felt him. Then tingles as the touch of fingers run from her shoulder down to a breast as she feels it being cupped and lifted gently. Again the feather soft kiss this time on her nipple.

"Ohhhhhh." Keeping her eyes closed a hand pushes back against the glass dragging down it. Leaving a distorted hand print on the wet glass.

The tingling touches, the beat of the shower serving to stimulate her like no time in the past. Moist kisses trailing from breast to mouth and back again. Fingers spreading her, working soapy water in and around her soft shaved mound and swollen lips. Pressing her back against the glass, stimulating her as the cold glass sends a shiver up her spine as an orgasm races from her stimulated flesh, up and out her mouth as a scream.

She clutches at her lover, struggling to keep her eyes closed, desperately trying to make the moment last. She feels pressure between her spread legs. Not fingers now. Lifting a leg, resting it on the side of the shower, she feels herself being opened up by her lover. Penetrated, she cries as the stimulation threatens to rip another orgasm from her.

Pressure against her flattening her breasts. Feathery kisses suck the showers water from her neck. Hands against the glass.

"Ohhhhhhh." She cries as she rides from one wave of pleasure to the next.

"I love you." Whispered in her ear as the sensations between her legs drive her desires. Another scream. More pleasure. Each building on the last.

She can not stand it. The sensation, the feel, the desire.

Finally, her legs wobbling, chest panting heavily; she collapsed. Spent, exhausted. She looks up at her lover. To look into his eyes.

Nothing.

The glass door still closed as it had been. The water beating down on her. Confusion. Exhaustion. Satisfaction. All clouding her mind.

Was it a dream? Was it more?

"Honey." A voice calls. "I'm home. Do you want me to have tea ordered in?"

He is home? Confusion. She focuses on the clock. An hour and a half she had been in the shower. That's not possible. It seemed like only minutes. Half an hour at most.

A kiss on her cheek. Her hand going to it. A whisper. "I love you..." Fading off into, into what.

"Honey." Knocking at the bathroom door. "Are you okay? Did you get home late? Do you need me to order tea instead?"

Her husband. Confusion. "Ummm. Yeah. Ummm. I. I was late, sorry." Quickly, almost slipping in the soapy water, she struggled to her feet. Whispering into the now almost cold shower. "I love you."

Turning off and getting out still not sure what happens she does not see the impressions of her back, her hands and those of another's fade. The room cold she wraps a towel about her, opening the door she runs straight into her husbands arms.

They kiss, they hug. The towel falls and thoughts of tea end in that second. Soon the sounds of love fill the house. The feeling off desire permeating the walls, floors and ceiling.

Cries of lust. Professions of love. Groans and moans. Creaks and squeaks. Things that go bump in the night...

"I love you." Whispered in the dark...

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