It was almost supper time when my boyfriend, Roy, and I carried up the last few boxes from the street. He had just moved into a new apartment, and we d spent the entire day lugging all his stuff upstairs from the small moving truck we d rented. To be honest, I was truly beat and found it hard to raise myself from the chair where I crumpled once the job was over.
Come on, honey, get up . . . let s have a nice shower and then I ll take you to dinner, Roy said as he slid a large box into a corner of the living room. You must be famished after all that work . . . I sure am.
I nodded in agreement, too tired to speak. But after a moment I realized how great it would feel to soak my exhausted muscles, and I followed Roy into the bathroom. He stripped out of his sweaty clothes and hopped into the shower, and I quickly undressed to join him under the spray.
You re the sexiest moving man I ve ever had, he said with a laugh, turning to adjust the temperature of the water. Let s see if this place has a decent shower at least.
He was referring to the shower in his old apartment because it might have been the worst one of all time. The water dribbled out like it was in no hurry, and you d step out feeling vaguely soapy and unsatisfied more than anything else.
As he spoke, the new shower began to deliver sharp spurts of water onto us from a massage showerhead that I hadn t noticed at first. It was really loud, sounding like the marches from a distant army with its regular, stiff beat. Sorry, honey, wait, let me adjust this, Roy said, but I moved him out of the way to stand directly underneath.
No, no, keep it like this, I said. Make it as hard as it can go. He turned the head as far as possible, and I was rewarded with hard slivers of water that sounded through my ears and pulsed along my skin with the exact combination of pleasure pain that my body craves.
He could never have known this, but in college I discovered my sexuality had my first orgasm, in fact beneath a massage showerhead exactly like this one. Sometimes I d sneak into the bathroom late at night to indulge myself, inspiring my roommate Cindy to dub me the Queen of Clean. But more often than not, she d knock on the door to complain that she was bothered by the loudness of the showerhead, and I d have to twist it down to a tamer, less intense and ultimately less enjoyable spray of water. I would normally just towel off and call it a night at that point.
But ten years later, with my handsome lover at my side, there was no reason to turn down the noise. I ran my hands down the slick sides of his body, reveling in his muscles and how his cock responded with a vertical salute. My solitary time spent in the shower long ago, letting the needles of water roughly caress my clitoris . . . the distinct sound of the massaging showerhead brought back such strong memories that I nearly salivated like one of Pavlov s dogs.
Once he realized what I was after, Roy moved out of the way to let me stand directly underneath the water flow. He stood behind me and positioned me so my nipples could receive the direct attention of the thick bullets of water. It was heavenly. He whispered something in my ear, but I couldn t quite make out his words against the determined chant of the water.
I leaned against him, letting him support me with his chest and arms, and he gradually maneuvered my body backward to allow the beat of the water to make its way aggressively down my stomach.
He reached around me to spread my labia, exposing my clitoris directly to the liquid fire coming from above us. Roy held me steady to the rasping strength of the spray, the drumming of it sending me right back to the orgasmic bliss of my college days.
I had forgotten how much I loved that sound, how I somehow began to associate it with the pink glow that exploded into red deep within the center of my sex, how I d have to fight to keep from screaming out my pleasures . . . but those days were well behind me, and I moaned loudly as the first wave of orgasm swept over me.
I moved my hips in time to the sharp thrusts of water, wishing for it to never end. My pussy kept clenching in orgasm, and when I felt the hardness of Roy behind me, I bent forward slightly to let him take me.
He gently spread my asscheeks apart to make my pussy more accessible, and nudged his cockhead just into the shallow depths. He held steady as I continued to rock my hips. The next time I came, loudly, he gave one mighty thrust of his cock to bury himself deep inside me. Again he held steady, somehow understanding that what I was experiencing was, even in his presence, strangely solitary.
When I came back down to earth, though, I broke away to turn and face him. I snaked one of my legs around his hips, urging him to enter me again this way. He pushed into me, holding onto the shower walls for support. We fucked slowly as the shower rained on us, his thick cock filling me up so perfectly that I leaned my head back to let the water sting my face, my lips, the skin of my throat. A growling sound welled up within me as I came for the first time from his cock, and he used that as his cue to give it to me the way I like the most.
He aggressively pressed me against the cool tile, moving both of us out of range of the water, but still that beat kept playing on. He held me hard against the shower wall and thrust into me so hard and rough that I momentarily lost my breath. His balls slapped between my thighs as he fucked me with complete abandon. I was unable to move, even to push him away slightly, which was his cue to fuck me even harder.
I came so hard and so loud that I worried the extreme contractions of my pussy might have hurt him. He sank his teeth into my neck, holding a wet hand over my mouth as I screamed his name. That was part of the game we saved for special sex occasions. Somehow he understood that this was one of those times. I tried to move away from his grasp, his hand, his cock that seemed to get bigger with every thrust . . . but I loved every minute of it with such fervor that I prayed he wouldn t come yet, and I prayed that the water wouldn t turn bone chilling cold and send us out of this erotic cave.
He suddenly pulled out of me and dropped to his knees. He roughly spread my pussy lips apart and dove in with his tongue, hammering at my clit with a hard, steady pressure that sent me reeling once again. Roy pulled my hips forward, so I stood in the center of the shower again, with the sharp spray of water stinging my back. With his hands he held my ass and spread it wide, knowing that the tail end of those drops would hit my sensitive hole. The effect was more of an erotic tickle, and I laughed.
So you think this is funny, do you? he said in a mock sinister voice. Bend over. I quickly obeyed, wanting his admonishments as much as he obviously wanted to dole them out. He nudged his cock between my asscheeks, sliding down until it settled in the dimple of my asshole. You like it rough, I ll give it to you rough, he said, spearing me in one swift move. I gave way a little bit under his weight, steadying myself on the shiny chrome hardware of the shower. All the while the rat tat tat sound of the showerhead held me captive.
His thrusts gained momentum and I knew he d come soon, so I arched my back further into him, letting him penetrate me as far as possible. He soon climaxed with an intense shudder, pulsing his hot cream into my asshole for several long moments before pulling out of me and giving me a smile.
So I guess you ll be showering at my place from now on, he teased, not realizing just how close to the truth he was.
Ms. Amanda L., Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania