While I Whisper: The Shower

I want to tell you a story. Put your hand on your cock. Keep it there. See how long you can last.

I heard the water running and couldn't help myself.

You thought I was asleep, but I was touching myself, picturing you in that shower, soap sliding over your cock, your hand working slowly.

The shower was already fogged up when I slipped in behind you.

I walked in without a word. The glass was fogged but I could see enough -- the angle of your shoulder, the movement of your hips.

You didn't hear me at first. Too busy, one hand on the wall, the other stroking your cock in slow, hungry pulls.

I opened the door, stepped inside, and pressed my naked body against your back.

"Don't stop," I whispered, wrapping my arms around your waist. "I want to watch you. Just like that."

My tits against your back, nipples hard and tingling. I let the heat of the water wash over both of us. The water streamed down my back, hot and heavy, but your moan was the only thing I cared about.

"Miss me?" I whispered. "Touch yourself for me."

You obeyed - god, I loved how quickly you listened. I watched your hand wrap tight, your tip flushed, glistening with need.

I reached down between your legs, my fingers curling around your shaft.

You twitched in my hand, thick and heavy, already slick with steam and your own need.

I stroked you once, just to feel that weight, and then again, harder, twisting my wrist on the upstroke.

I pressed my breasts to your back again, reached around and stroked you with both hands. Fast. Then slow. Then fast again. Panting now, needing it. I cupped your balls while I stroked.

"God, you feel so fucking full," I murmured. "All that heat, all that pressure. This cock was made to be deep in my throat."

You moaned, and leaned into me.

I slid my hands down your stomach, kissed your shoulder, and moved in front of you, lowering to my knees.

The tile was warm against my legs. Your cock raised above me, flushed dark and pulsing, a fat drop of precum glistening at the tip.

Then I leaned in and licked you, long and slow. Just once. Enough to make you twitch.

I looked up at you, lips parted.

"Feed it to me."

You did -- slow at first, your hips pushing forward, the tip nudging past my tongue.

I moaned around it -- god, the taste of you. I licked the head, flattening my tongue and pushing, running wetly where the head met the shaft. You breathed hard, put one hand on the wall for balance.

I took more, inch by inch.

I sucked you deep, the water making everything slick and messy. My hands on your thighs, your hips bucking gently as I hollowed my cheeks. You were thick. Hot.

Each slow push deeper made my jaw ache and my throat stretch, and I wanted more.

You groaned. I felt it in my chest, all the way down.

My hands gripped your arse, pulling you toward me until your cock pressed right to the back of my throat.

"Fuck," you gasped, barely holding yourself up.

I just looked up at you, spit running down my chin, and held you there - swallowed once, twice - and felt your whole body shudder.

Then I pulled off, breathless, strings of slick stretching from my lips to your shaft.

"Again," I said, voice choking. "Use my throat this time."

You grabbed the back of my head. Your hips snapped forward.

You fucked my face, groaning, shaking while I felt water dripping down onto my pussy.

Your cock slammed deep - fast, wet, relentless - the head hitting my throat with every thrust, your balls slapping my chin, water pounding down around us.

I gagged. I drooled. I didn't care. My cunt pulsed in time to your thrusts.

You were unravelling. I loved the way you groaned my name, over and over, like it was the only thing anchoring you.

"Don't you fucking stop," you growled between thrusts. "I want to fill you up. I want you to choke on how much you need this."

Your rhythm broke. You shoved deep, stayed there.

I swallowed hard, again, again, until you spilled down my throat. Hot, thick, pulse after pulse.

I drank every drop, greedy and filthy, before pulling back to kiss your stomach.

"You'll be hard again soon," I whispered. "Next time, I want your hand on your cock as you taste me."