I Just Had Shower Sex That Actually Felt Good [FM]

We’ve all been there. We’ve seen enough movies, we’ve watched enough porn. And we get really horny. So much so that we convince ourselves it will be good. That a ceramic phone booth is somehow the ideal place to fuck. That adding a half-blinding spray of water and an inordinate amount of soap will somehow make it better. That the statistical likelihood of cracking our skull doesn’t exist. And that we are in good enough shape to hold that position for longer than 30 seconds. Thankfully in my case, that last concern is rarely an issue.

Well, this story is the exception to all those rules. And the catalyst in overcoming these ancient boundaries was a truly capable fucker by the name of Kayla. God, what a fucker she is. Her hair when it falls down on you. Her hips when they swing, just walking around the kitchen. Her laugh when she gets you to cum for her, faster than you wanted to. But seriously, when she takes hold of your cock, and she guides it right to the entrance of Fantasy Land, and she takes you inside herself…

Now I’m not sure what percentage of people on this sub are from Southern California. But based on the sheer depravity and stupidity, I’m gonna estimate it’s a big number. So for all you fellow idiots who hate yourselves and everyone around you, you know that feeling when you leave a pair of RainbowTM sandals out in the sun while you are at the park or something? And then you slip them back on your foot and the sun-warmed leather engulfs it, pulling it into the footprint you’ve already spent months breaking in? It’s a fucking foot-gasm. It’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever felt… And I once had this girl literally massage my dick and balls for like 45 min on her parents’ couch when they were out of town at a goddamn Stevie Nicks concert. Like she wasn’t even trying to make me cum. Homegirl just knew that carrying around external sex organs gets annoying. And sometimes the boys just need some appreciation and empathy. Fuck. I should call her.

But anyways. Kayla’s puss. Fucking magic. Now I had experienced this particular pink sorcery a time or two before. And for context, I should probably tell you how our conjugal stars aligned. But for that, we gotta talk about Jimmy.

Jimmy was the homie, straight up. He was one of the rare individuals that successfully transitioned from co-worker to actual friend. Not the – surprise yourself by how much you enjoyed them at the work dinner event – coworker/friend hybrid. The real friend kinda friend.

We met 4-years ago when we were both relatively new to our company. At the time he and Kayla had been dating for a little bit already. I heard about her plenty and met her a handful of times. As Jimmy and I became better friends, we all hung out more and more. Then about two years ago, they got married and I was kindly chosen as a groomsman. I should probably dedicate a whole post to the week of their wedding. What a wild time.

And that describes the two lovebirds well. Fucking wild. Their relationship always seemed extreme from the outside…

Wicked awkward tiffs while the waiter stood there gaping, full of newfound motivation to finish his fucking classes instead of jerking off to the harem of Instagram models that absolutely obliterated the 2015-17 algorithm. Shoutout 2015 Abbie Ratchford, holy shit.

Then, 15min later, porno-grade PDA while the rest of us forgot about every last Dave & Busters token we’d wasted actual dollars on. The two were an insane pair. Fire and oil or lighting and water of whatever the fuck your handsy uncle in the Ozarks says.

So, to the extreme surprise of everyone who’s ever seen them in public for more than 30 seconds, their marriage did not work out. Last year, Kayla caught Jimmy sending triple-X SMS (nudes) to a very young (like 21, don’t worry) receptionist from the office next door to ours.

TBH I wasn’t that surprised… Jimmy and I often saw her on Food Truck Fridays. She and a coworker of hers had even joined us for drinks on a thirsty Thursday. And despite Kayla’s glorious, sexy presence, he’d spent half the night trying to convince this receptionist he was down with all the latest musical “bops” and was very accustomed to “spilling the tea.” Or some fucking other shit like that. Zero fucking clue. Leave me alone.

Well, receptionist was dummy thicc. And actually, kinda dumb too. Don’t get me wrong, she was a very sweet person, just not too bright. And very…. uh, down? easy? Idk… I’m trying to think of a word that’s not judgmental. I really don’t judge her at all. This was all Jimmy’s fault, the dumb fuck.

Kayla on the other hand was none of those things. Well except for the thick part. Soul-crushing, heart-wrenching thighs. Once you were locked between them it was like trying to escape the wrathful tentacles of the Kraken. And call that pussy the Bermuda Triangle cuz that shit could sink a fucking battleship. (K, sorry. I’m done.) But dumb and easy are definitely not accurate descriptors of Kayla.

She was a jack of all trades, being highly educated without any of that affluent pretense and bullshit. And she was street-smart as hell, having run her own business for years, finding real, honest success. She was smarter than Jimmy and wayyy smarter than your boy (me). And we all knew it.

I think it got to Jimmy. I think he had a hard time with a woman smarter, more successful, and more charismatic than himself. And it wasn’t even the cheating that was so disappointing. It was how much of an asshole he revealed himself to be, in the year following that they tried to work it out. I think if it hadn’t been that hot little receptionist, it would have been someone else, just a matter of time. As I said, he proved himself to have always been an asshole.

But my bad. But you didn’t click to read some fucking armchair psychoanalysis. You came to cum. I hope you do. Let’s fucking get to it.

So, we are now at a weird place where I ended up remaining good friends with my friend’s ex-wife. And my friendship with him pretty much dissolved, despite us still working in close contact. Kayla did not really need a shoulder to cry on, but on the rare occasion, it still wasn’t me. No, me and Kayla retained a good buddy relationship. Drinking buddies. Birthday party buddies. Eventually pizza and chill buddies. And finally, fuck buddies.

The first time was awkward as hell. Stereotypically, we’d both had just enough beer to lose inhibitions, but not enough to get stupid. We finished our movie and were then mindlessly watching the episode where Leslie accidentally performs a gay marriage for the penguins. Shoutout to the bulge. I’d fuck that place uppppp. And we were toeing the line of fun and flirtatious, swapping recent sex stories or lack thereof. She then confessed to me how fucking lonely and how fucking horny she was. Bet.

Next thing you know she’s demanding that I wipe the cum off her back, literally five seconds after absolutely destroying my favorite throw blanket with her fire hydrant vagina. But we made out a little and laughed about it all off. That was the first of a handful of similar transactions. With minimal efforts upfront, I got to fuck one of the sexiest women I’ve ever been friends with. And she got to catch this perfect average-sized (yet surprisingly handsome) dick. Win-win-win (the third win is you in about three minutes)

***Now for fuck’s sake, the fucking shower sex you came here to read about.***

Kayla called. It was a Tuesday. I missed it. She texts:

“Come over and check this out” – Kayla

*insert picture of fully remodeled bathroom*

“Yoooo. They finished already?” – Me

“Yes, I just settled for the black tiles instead. Couldn’t go another week in the guest bathroom lol” – Kayla

“You bougie bitch lol” – Me

“I want to test it out.” – Kayla

“Omw” – Me and my absolutely throbbing penis.

Knock. Knock. Knock. The door opens. Fucking christ. Kayla’s fucking down. She’s easy now. She’s probably already fucking dripping behind that inexplicably tight pair of leggings. Their dark teal color is contoured perfectly around every little dimple on the back of her things. They’re stretched around her wide hips and constrict around her lower stomach. The flexible fabric is bunched up, sucked in by her clearly soaked pussy. My eyes are slowly crawling up her. Drinking in every detail.

I get to her stomach. There’s soft pale skin on display. There’s a stupid fucking teal rhinestone in her belly button. I didn’t know this was 2011 and we were pretending Hollister jeans were made to fit anything other than a wooden doll. But fuck me because that stupid teal rhinestone is doing it for me.

I keep looking up. I swear to god she’s already sweating. Miles of dirty blonde hair is falling all around her shoulders and her tits. The pair of which are accentuated in the matching sports bra. Its completely pointless zipper is a quarter undone. There’s a pair of gel-clad black fingernails between them, gently tugging at the misty skin. Our eyes lock and her lips are slightly parted. There really is sweat on her brow.

“You couldn’t even wait for me?” I teased her as I pushed into the doorway, seizing her hips in my ready hands.

“I was working out when I called you dumb fuck.” She slams the door behind me and smiles.

“Lemme guess…” But Kayla cuts me off. She pushes me off her softly and cups my denim-clad balls in her hands. She gives them a loving little squeeze.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about this cock.” She teases. Just enough sarcasm to knock me down a peg. Just enough sultry rasp to send a butterfly or two racing through my midsection. She’s fucking good.

Now we’re walking through her condo. She walks through her bedroom door and begins ripping off her sports bra over her head. I told you that stupid fucking zipper was pointless. I’m following like an insecure puppy. I match her motions, pulling my button-up right over my head. You know, like a stupid person.

Her new shower is one of those new ones where the temperature handle is near the entrance, on the opposite side of the showerhead. So you don’t have to get spritzed with cold water turning it on. How in the fuck did it take us this long to figure this shit out?? Like It never even occurred to me.

Now I’ve caught up to her. I seize her hips again and yank her back. Her small frame fits me perfectly. Her ass slams into the erect fly of my jeans. She plays along. Or maybe she’s really this horny. No fucking clue. Don’t fucking care. She throws her head back against my should and gasps. She grabs her own tits and presses them together.

I drop to my knees and yank her teal tights over her ass. I reach back to her hip with one hand and help her step out of them with the other. All the while I’m kissing, licking, biting at her ass and at the side of her thighs. She starts to pull away from me, stepping into the shower.

I try to convince her to stay right in front of me. One hand slips around and pushes past her thighs to her dripping lips. I barely have enough time or angle to glide one finger between them as she pushes my hand away, stepping into the now steaming shower stream. She turns around to face me, water rushing over her back and shoulders. I stand up, holding her eyes with mine, and suck her taste off the tips of my fingers.

Kayla reaches back down to pick up where I left off, immediately pushing two inside herself and rolling her thumb over her clit. I unbutton my jeans and pull them down with my boxers, allowing my finally free cock to swing up, ready for action. The poor thing. He thinks he’s a big dog.

Then I remember my shoes. Fucking numbskull. I do my very fucking best to gracefully bend over, jeans around my knees, and loosen the laces. I’m trying to kick them off, pull off my socks, and step out of my pants in one motion like that’s fucking humanly possible. And not just some dumb shit of cutting the camera to a different angle while the chiseled protagonist elegantly gets naked.

But Kayla doesn’t give a shit. She just wants to fuck me. She just wants to fuck my dick. She wants to fuck herself, with this dick that she demands, in the shower she just bought, in the home she’s worked her ass off to own. And she can fucking have all 5.32 inches of it.

I mean at this point she thankfully wasn’t even watching me. She’s already groaning and making space for a ring finger to join the fucking party. She’s like two shots into the birthday dinner no one wants to be at and I gotta catch the fuck up. I take command of the situation.

I step right into the really fucking hot water, like goddamn Kayla. I grab her and pull her into me. She vacates her pink premisses and one hand joins the other on my deceptively fantastic ass. Kind of a sleeper actually. Real good ass. Our tongues are having a lot of fun together. I can taste her distinct mouth on mine, mixing with the sweet California tap water raining down on us. I feel one of her hands leave my checks and crawl up to my shoulder.

The soldier left behind smacks it hard, but not as hard as I like it. I show her what I want, by taking a handful of hers in the right, and spanking hard with the left. The loud clap echoes in the tile chamber and her little gasp interrupts our teenage makeout. I take the break in the action to drag my teeth down her jaw and throat and bite a little bit along the way. Now one of her hands was all done waiting, and back between her labia. Those her juicy southern lips. I feel her knuckles inadvertently rocking back and forth over the head of my cock.

“Grab it slut” I whispered in her ear, still finding fun places to kiss along her bust.

“Ok” is all she can manage to moan back, eyes closed tight and enjoying every second of herself.

Kayla grabs my hard penis. She wraps her fingers around and pumps it front to back, front to back. That weird thing is happening where the water is creating more friction and it’s not feeling great. But the seemingly endless precum is finding its way between her fingers and myself. And that does feel great. Really fucking great.

I start losing control, victim to her perfect hand job and the overall hotness of the scene. She senses weakness and pounces, a fucking hungry little tigress. She pushes me back and I sit down onto the little tiled bench in the back of the shower. The water is just splashing at my ankles now. But she stays there. She pumps the stupid organic soap bottle in the niche, with the painfully contrasting tile pattern. Please stop fucking doing this. If there’s one place to be minimalist, it’s in the fucking bathroom.

That slut starts caressing every curve of herself. Is she giving me a show, or herself? No fucking clue. Don’t fucking care. All I can see are sharp black nails, covered in citrus-scented suds, squeezing and tugging at her tits like they work for the fucking TSA.

I’m sitting there, transfixed by the soapy twins even with my eye level, just inches from my face. I take my cock in my hand and start jacking. Hard. I can’t believe how hard I feel to myself. It feels so fucking good. Like I’m borderline down to just watch one another self-complete. So I reach for the conditioner in the niche and begin to pop the cap when she stops me.

She gently, but firmly pushes on my shoulders, back against the cold tile. She reaches down for my dick and straddles me, guiding me in. I’m fucking in. I’m fucking deep in now. Deeper than I think I’ve ever been in this pussy. I didn’t know it got this deep. Holy fucking shit. It’s like this pussy was made for me. And I for it.

We both groan loudly. It takes exactly zero seconds to pull one of her ridiculous nipples into my mouth. I trap it between my teeth and lick roughly back and forth over it. Kayla’s fucking screaming.

“FUCK. YES. Fucking bite that tit you little bitch. FUCK.”

No complaints here. I fucking bite that shit, pulling more of her breast into my mouth, sucking at the whole thing. I’m doing my best N64 Super Smash Bro’s Kirby impression and it’s somehow working. Her little hand claps hard to my cheek with a determined smack. But it stays there, gripping my jaw and yanking my face up to hers. She’s still working her hips, back in forth, a little up/down, and just a hint of circular motion. This bitch is a fucking 3-axis Bridgeport. I’m moments from the edge when she slows down, still firmly grasping my face, and looks me in the eyes.

The sound of the water fades. The temperate of the tile dissipates. It’s just her eyes and mine. Just her skin and mine. Just me inside of her and her all around me.

“You can’t cum in there.”

Fuckkkkkkkk me. Goddamn this teasing whore. She’s grinning at me like a demon and she knows it.

I grabbed her hips to lift her off, surprising the both of us with my strength. Horny strength is a thing.

*looks at camera* “That’s my secret, I’m always horny.”

I lift her off and begin to turn her around. She’s half-shrieking and half-laughing, getting off to how pissed off and rock hard she’s got me. But she goes along with my motions, letting me take back some control. Sex is a fucking relationship, a two-way street. And I was speeding down the median at this point.

I bend her over, face in the water. I smack her ass as hard as I fucking can and Kayla screams for me. I love that shit. It’s red and I can see my fingerprints across it. I want it.

I yank her by the hip back to my cock. But I slow her down to put in. It’s in. Then I fuck her. Both my hands are full of soft round hips. One of her’s is reaching back, mindless flailing towards me. I release one hip and grab that wrist, pinning it to the small of her back.

I can feel her balance going and she’s gasping with the shower spraying right in her face. But I am strong enough for the both of us and hold her up.

“Please. Please. PLEASE!” She’s begging between breaths. “You can’t cum in me. I’m mean it.”

She’s not just playing along anymore, she’s losing control. There’s a little bit of fear in her voice. She knows how badly I want to fill her pussy up. She knows how badly she wants me to fill her pussy up. She knows what it’s gonna feel like when hot semen pushes out in beads, mixing with the slickness of her own sex, dripping out over her lips…

“I’M GONNA CUM” I shout.

“NO”

Just as she pulls away from me, I pull out. My hand instantly finds my shaft, like fucking Mjölnir zipping across the galaxy back to Chris Hemsworth’s perfect Australian hand. Ropes — God, I hate that fucking overused term — but seriously, ropes of cum spill forth. Eruption. The inhabitants of Pompeii are experiencing PTSD halfway around the fucking globe. I’m squeezing my eyes shut so hard I’m seeing brand new colors. I’m fucking astral projecting. Now, slowly, slowly, descending back into my shell of existence.

My hand instinctively matching the deceleration of my soul. I forgot anyone or anything else existed. Until I feel those gel black nails lovingly scrape down my thighs. I slowly open my eyes to see that I am in fact a real person, still inside the shower of my former BFF’s ex-wife’s condo. And she is still fucking tigress, hungry for more. She wraps both her little hands around my hand. The one still glued to my shaft. She takes the head into her mouth and sucks way too fucking hard. My body instinctively leans into her while I groan. And she releases me, giggling. Licking her lips.

“I need you to get hard again baby.” She’s demanding it, but kindly.

I place both my hands on the tiled seat beneath me. She’s got one hand wrapped around my half-soft cock, still waning in the steam-filled atmosphere. The other is massaging my balls. Nails working expertly. The pad of her pinky is threatening to slip over my asshole. Don’t threaten me with a good time.

She’s licking and kissing as best she can. Doing everything in her power to resurrect the recently slain monster. It might be working. I think it’s working. She thinks so too, so she cranks up the heat. Now she’s sitting higher on her knees. Her poor little knees on the black hex tile. Her tits are enveloping me. My penis is trapped between them. They’re so fucking slippery already. But she remembers my earlier move. She snatches up the conditioner and lathers those fuckers. My dick is coated in her saliva and Pantene with Shea Butter for ProtectionTM.

Now it’s definitely working. She’s pushing them together as hard as she can, doing her best to mimic the work of the almighty, creating something for this dick to fuck. I’m hard now. I’m hard AF writing this and remembering.

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” Kayla encourages

“Get on” I urge her.

She doesn’t waste a breath. She straddles me again, putting that 87% hard penis back inside her perfect vagina. She fucks herself on my dick. She’s not giving a shit about me and she shouldn’t. I’ve had my turn. She knows exactly what she wants and it’s not taking long.

“YESFUCKINGYES. God that feels fucking GOOD.”

Suddenly I’m trapped. I’m fucking standing in chuck-e-cheese like an idiot. I’m imprisoned by the Chinese finger trap I just spent $20 worth of paper tickets to purchase.

Her lips are sealed tightly around the base of my cock and I can feel my now fully-erect head pushing into the warm, wet walls. She was fucking right. I could not cum in there. We would most certainly make a fucking baby. Holy shit she’s sticky and ready and so fucking sexy.

Again my surroundings fade as the sound of her orgasmic screams blend into the sensory overload. Her hands are squeezing around my skulls. My ears covered by her little palms. But I can feel her hair on me. A mane of wet hair is lashed around my shoulders. I can feel her soft tits pushed together, against my chin and mouth. I kiss them. I can feel her heart pounding. I remember to feel my own. The quick rhythms are synced.

Kayla’s sitting back on my thighs, letting my penis slowly glide out of her. Her hands match the motion, sliding down to the side of my jaw, loosening their tight grip. We’re both laughing like satiated fools. We’re kissing. We’re done.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/n6s7q2/i_just_had_shower_sex_that_actually_felt_good_fm