Jane loved showering with him. It was something she looked forward to every single damn day.
The shower was where some of their most deep, most personal conversations took place. It was also where a lot of fun happened.
The thing about showers is that Jane never knew what she was going to get out of them, save for the usual washing of hair and body, shaving. But it was the unknowing — the suspense and anticipation — that made up half the fun.
So when Chris texted Jane that he was leaving work and asked her to step into the shower, she didn’t hesitate to obey.
For the few minutes that she was in there alone, Jane cranked the temperature until it was scalding — the kind of heat that most would shy away from. She herself could scarcely handle it. But she savoured it. Savoured the feeling of her skin melting from her bones as the steam filled the small room, fogging up the mirror, the giant frosted window.
It was orgasmic really. The searing water splashing along her skin, morphing her natural olive tone into one that could be compared to that of a boiled lobster.
Moaning, she stood under the piping stream, her hands roaming over her body, feeling herself. One hand wrapped around her neck, the other pinching her nipples, groping her breasts.
She wasn’t in the mood to dig deep tonight. She wanted fun. Fun that could only be provided in the tub.
Her hand slunk down her dripping, steaming body. Tipping her head back she let out a sharp exhale as her expertly deft fingers found her clit. Careful not to play too much, she circled lightly, her fingertips a ghost of a touch on that particular bundle of nerves.
Jane squeezed her throat, shutting her eyes, focusing on the feeling. She quieted her thoughts, exhaling. She could feel herself entering that precious space. When Chris got there she was going to be ready.
And ready she was.
Chris came home, heard the shower running, and stalked softly to the bathroom. The door was open just a crack. Steam curled its scalding fingers through the crack, dissipating as it met the room temperature air. He paused before entering, listening to the soft moans as he undressed as stealthily as he could.
Hearing those sweet sounds of arousal had him hard. He could picture exactly how she was playing with herself. Where exactly her hands were placed on her lithe body.
Fuck.
He needed to play with his toy. He needed to use her for her intended purpose. He needed to wreck her. Fucking destroy those beautiful holes she had offered up to him just a few years ago. She needed it just as much as he did.
Chris pushed the door open silently and stepped into the fogged room. With a brush of his strong hands, he swept back the curtain concealing his Aphrodite. He paused a moment and took in the sight of her. Took in the sight of water droplets bouncing off her streamlined body. Her curves accentuated by the white marble behind her.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His voice a husky growl. The sexual tension thickening his vocal cords, wrapping around them in a choking hold.
Jane was already facing him, a warm blush heating her cheeks as she beheld his roaming, wandering gaze. His wasn’t the only one wandering, however. She was drinking him in. Her imminent desire for him growing stronger, stronger, until it was nearly overpowering. Especially as he stepped into the tub. His immediate presence making her more heated than the water even could.
Chris pushed her against the marble, his hand wrapping around her now vacated throat. The cool wall against her back making shivers erupt over her body, despite the fever consuming her from the inside out.
He kissed her aggressively, lips meeting and colliding. Moving against the other in a fierce, raging fervor. His hand slithered between her legs as his tongue invaded her pretty mouth. His member — stiff as a fucking rock — pressed against her abdomen, pulsing with the blood rushing to engorge it.
“You started without me,” he growled, feeling her wetness splayed between his fingers. He retracted his hand and spanked her pussy. Once. Twice. Thrice. Making her jump against him, making her shriek in startled pain.
Jane nodded. Breathless. She was completely taken when he was like this. She was enamoured. Enraptured. Captivated. It quieted her thoughts further, made her sink into her role — a set of three holes. A toy. A doll. A plaything.
Well, no. Not a set of holes. Not a toy, or a doll, or a plaything. She was his. Only his.
He spanked her harder, making her bite her lip to keep from yelping.
“You’re not supposed to start without me. Understand?”
“Yes Sir.” A whispered response. The grip around her throat tightened. His fingers slipping inside her, curling to her G-spot.
“I’m not stopping until you squirt all over my fucking hand. Get ready, little one.”
He started immediately, taking no time to warm her up. Straight out the gate it was hard, fast. Her knees buckled, her mouth twisted in a grotesquely beautiful grimace.
Chris held her up by her throat and continued. Not slowing, not stopping. He had told her precisely when he was going to stop, and did not plan to go back on his word.
Her body shook in his grip. Her legs quivered. Her muscles flexed. Her head slammed against the marble, the steam swirling thick and heavy around them as Chris’s fingers mercilessly assaulted her throbbing cunt.
“Oh Chris…I’m, I’m, going to c-cum!”
“Oh babygirl, you can cum as many times as you want. But I told you what I want.” And he would get it. He knew exactly how to get it, but before he did so, he wanted to drive her absolutely crazy. Wanted to heighten her senses. Excite her nerves. Overstimulate that sweet nervous system that was now his to play with.
Jane screamed in delight. Shots of adrenaline racing through her body. Pleasure taking her to a euphoric state of ecstasy. He had gotten her to the edge, and she made the flying leap across that precipice of unending elation.
Once. Twice. Three times. Four.
“I can’t t-take it anym-m-more!”
Jane was a quivering mess. Her knees were holding up none of her body weight, Chris’s hand on her throat doing the supporting. Her body no longer belonged to her — not that it ever had. She was no longer the maestro playing her own strings.
“P-Plea…pleasssse!” Her eyes were squeezed shut. Her mouth open, drool dripping steadily down those parted lips of ruby.
Begging for mercy. Interesting, Chris thought with a diabolic smirk. Just one more time, then he would move on.
The one more time came and went. She had lost count as her brain exploded with fireworks — brocades, bottle rockets, roman candles. She couldn’t concentrate. Couldn’t conjure a single coherent thought. His fingers were unrelenting through it all, an unstoppable force of power and speed.
He removed his hand from her throat and pushed her lower abdomen.
That changed everything. Fucking everything.
He pushed harder. His fingers flew faster, through the fatigue nudging his brain. He needed this.
Chris lowered his mouth to her neck and bit her nape just as he felt it.
Felt the stream on his hand, heard her scream rattle the light fixtures, shaking the very ground they were standing on. A short burst. A satisfying. Short. Burst.
Jane screamed in unadulterated, erotic delectation. Her body releasing in a way that only he could make her do. Her arms shook against the marble. Her muscles flexing, relaxing. Convulsing in sporadic pulses.
“What a good girl…” He breathed against her skin. Withdrawing his fingers and sliding them into her mouth, “Taste yourself. Savour it. The next thing that sweet tongue will be tasting, is me.”
Exhausted. She was utterly exhausted. Her body sagging against Chris as he supported the entirety of her weight. But she desperately wanted to please him. She needed to please him. Needed to obey.
Shoving her exhaustion aside, she looked at her lover with a wicked grin — eyes lit with wild, burning, insatiable desire, as she licked his fingers clean.
