First Time Submission

Coming to Port Dickson with him was probably a mistake. Or maybe not a mistake in the grand scheme of things, but definitely a massive miscalculation in terms of my comfort zone. I'd envisioned a breezy weekend getaway, maybe some nice seafood dinners and quiet strolls on the beach with Ben. What I got was a crash course in... well, something I hadn't even fully imagined existed outside of those, ahem, websites my friends sometimes giggled about.

The initial red flag, in hindsight, should have been the villa. I'd assumed "resort villa" meant a small apartment-like space. Separate rooms, definitely. Privacy, absolutely essential. Instead, it was... open. Stunningly open-plan, with a gorgeous outdoor plunge pool and direct beach access, but also startlingly lacking in walls in the areas where walls really mattered. Like the shower.

After an afternoon of surprisingly enjoyable swimming -- Ben was actually really fun outside of the usual junior college hallways -- I desperately needed to rinse off the salty, sticky feeling of the sea. The open shower, tiled in cool, smooth stone, was visually appealing, like something out of a magazine. But the complete lack of doors or partitions? It was practically a stage, exposed to the entire villa interior.

I peeked around, hoping to confirm Ben was still out on the beach lounger, presumably dozing off in the humid afternoon heat as he'd said he might. Silence. Taking a deep breath, I decided I couldn't stay salty and sandy all evening. With as much speed and furtiveness as possible, I slipped out of my bikini top and bottoms, folding them neatly on the small bench inside the shower area.

The water was blessedly warm as it streamed over my skin, washing away the salt and sunscreen. Relief washed over me too, momentarily easing the tension in my shoulders. I reached for the fruity-smelling shower gel I'd packed, squeezing a generous dollop into my palm. Just as the first fragrant lather began to spread across my chest, a shadow fell across the open shower entrance.

My heart leaped into my throat. "Ben?" I squeaked, my voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

He didn't reply. He just stood there, framed against the bright sunlight filtering through the villa's glass doors, his gaze fixed on me. He'd changed out of his swimming trunks, and... oh. Oh. He was completely naked. And very, very clearly aroused.

My breath hitched. My hands, slick with soap, froze mid-motion. I was paralyzed, a mix of shock, embarrassment, and something... else... bubbling up inside me. It wasn't fear, exactly. More like a dizzying rush of anticipation mixed with sheer, unadulterated panic.

Without a word, he stepped into the shower. The cool tile felt suddenly slick beneath his feet. He closed the small distance between us in two strides. My mind blanked. This wasn't supposed to be happening. Not like this. Not ever, maybe. But... I couldn't look away.

He reached out, his calloused fingers gently taking the tube of shower gel from my trembling hand and placing it on the shelf. Then, slowly, deliberately, he reached out again and cupped my face. His thumbs brushed across my wet cheeks, his eyes locked onto mine. There was a question there, unspoken, but undeniably present in the intensity of his gaze.

Before I could even attempt to form a coherent thought, let alone an answer, he lowered his head and kissed me. Not a gentle, chaste kiss like we'd shared before. This was... different. His lips were firm, demanding, opening mine with a confidence that made my knees weak. His tongue slipped inside, exploring, tasting, igniting a fire in my belly that I'd never known existed.

He pressed me back against the cool, smooth tiles of the shower wall, my soapy back sliding slightly against the surface. His body was hard against mine, his chest broad and warm. The water continued to cascade around us, a warm, sensual curtain enveloping us in our little world. His kisses deepened, becoming more urgent, more possessive. My hands, still slick with soap residue, instinctively went to his shoulders, gripping them tightly for support as my legs started to tremble.

His mouth left mine, trailing down my neck, sending shivers down my spine. He nuzzled the sensitive skin behind my ear, murmuring words I couldn't quite decipher, but their low, husky tone sent another wave of heat through me. Then, his lips were on my chest, suckling gently, teasing the skin around my nipples making them harden instantly. My breath hitched, and a small moan escaped my lips, muffled by his mouth against my skin.

And then, his hand slipped lower, between my legs. My eyes widened, my breath catching in my throat. I'd never been touched there before, not like this. It was... terrifying and electrifying all at once. His fingers, still wet from the shower, found the sensitive nub hidden beneath my folds, and a jolt of pure sensation shot through me.

"Vicky," he murmured against my chest, his voice thick with desire. "Is this okay?"

Okay? My mind was reeling. Every fiber of my conservative, carefully constructed being was screaming 'no'. But... my body was screaming something else entirely. A desperate, yearning 'yes' that was impossible to ignore.

Instead of words, a small whimper escaped my lips. It must have been enough. His fingers began to move, circling, pressing, teasing. My legs trembled harder, and I instinctively squeezed my thighs together, trying to contain the overwhelming sensations building within me.

"Relax, baby," he whispered, his voice soothing even as his touch became more insistent. "Let go."

Let go. That was the hardest part. But as his fingers worked their magic, as his lips continued to explore my body, as the water cascaded around us, washing away the last vestiges of my inhibitions, I found myself... surrendering.

A gasp escaped my lips as a wave of pleasure crashed over me. It was like nothing I'd ever experienced, a tidal wave of sensation that threatened to overwhelm me. I arched against him, my nails digging into his shoulders as my body began to convulse with pleasure. My head fell back against the tiled wall, my eyes fluttering closed as I rode the escalating waves of my first orgasm. A sound, half-scream, half-moan, tore from my throat.

He didn't stop. He kept going, his fingers expertly coaxing me higher and higher, until a second, even more intense orgasm ripped through me, leaving me breathless and weak. My legs were shaking uncontrollably, and I clung to him, gasping for air.

He paused then, his breathing ragged, his eyes blazing with a mixture of passion and tenderness. He lifted me slightly, guiding me to wrap my legs around his waist. And then, in one smooth motion, he entered me.

The initial sensation was... stretching. A sharp intake of breath escaped my lips, a small cry of surprise and discomfort. But then, as he moved slowly, gently, the discomfort eased, replaced by a different kind of sensation. Fullness. Heat. And an undeniable thrill that shot straight to my core.

He deepened his thrusts, his movements becoming more confident, more rhythmic. Each push sent waves of pleasure radiating through me, erasing any lingering doubts or hesitations. I met his rhythm, my body instinctively moving with his, my moans growing louder, more abandoned.

The open shower was no longer a source of anxiety. It was our private sanctuary, a place of raw, uninhibited passion. The water drumming against our skin felt like a celebration, a wild, sensual symphony.

Time blurred. Pleasure built and receded, only to surge back stronger. I lost myself in the sensations, in the rhythm of his body moving within mine, in the burning intensity of his gaze locked on mine. My orgasms came in waves, each one more shattering than the last. Screams of pleasure ripped from my throat, echoing off the villa walls. My head lolled back, my eyes rolling upwards in a moment of pure, unadulterated ecstasy -- I must have looked like those ahegao faces my friends sometimes shared online, but I didn't care. Not anymore.

Finally, with a guttural groan, he shuddered against me, his body going rigid as he emptied himself inside me. A final wave of pleasure washed over me, deep and profound. We clung to each other, panting, slick with sweat and water, our bodies trembling.

Later, sprawled on the bed, tangled together in damp sheets, I felt... dazed. Exhausted, but in the best way possible. A slow smile crept across my face as I replayed the events of the shower in my mind. It had been unexpected, definitely. Terrifying, at first, absolutely. But also... incredible.

The rest of our stay at the villa unfolded in a similar vein. The beach, the pool, the planned seafood dinners... they became secondary. The villa, with its open spaces and lack of privacy, transformed into our playground. Every corner, every surface seemed to beckon us, whispering promises of more intimate encounters.

He took me in the plunge pool under the moonlight, the cool water a stark contrast to the fire raging between us. He took me against the glass doors overlooking the ocean, the sound of the waves crashing outside a soundtrack to our passion. He even took me right there in the open shower again, the scene of our first explosive encounter, now imbued with a comfortable familiarity.

Each time, the initial shyness would flicker, a brief hesitation before I surrendered to him, to the intoxicating pull of his desire. And each time, surrendering felt... right. Safe. Loved. Protected. All the things he'd promised I would feel.

Leaving Port Dickson, I walked a little... differently. Let's just say I understood the phrase "walking like a duck" in a way I hadn't before. My legs were still slightly shaky, a pleasant reminder of the relentless pleasure I'd experienced. My mind was still reeling, processing everything that had happened.

Coming with Ben to Port Dickson hadn't been a mistake. It had been a revelation. A terrifying, exhilarating, life-altering revelation. I was still Vicky, the shy, conservative junior college student. But now, there was something else too. Something awakened. Something... wild. And secretly, deep down, I knew that part of me, that newly discovered, intensely passionate Vicky, was here to stay.