Summer sun, shower fun. [FM]

The warm weather has been descending once again on London, and as always seems to happen around this time of year, the heat and the humidity reminded me of my favourite summer fling from a few years ago. It’s not such an unusual story, really—he was just passing through for a couple of weeks, his Tinder profile made clear he wasn’t looking for anything serious, and almost as soon as it started, it was over—but the sex was mind-blowing while it happened.

The first time he came back to my flat, I said I’d meet him at the Tube station. It was well over thirty degrees outside, hot and sticky (that’s in the nineties for the Americans, sorry!), and I just wore a white sundress with a little bit of a floral print.

I had figured I could go without a bra—it was a short walk, and I have tiny boobs anyway, with nipples too pale to show through—which proved to be a slight misjudgement. When Ethan emerged up the stairs and into the sunshine, I threw my arms a bit too exuberantly around his neck as I got on my tiptoes to give him a peck on the lips, and as he pulled away, my nipple slipped out of the dress. Ever the gentleman, he reached out and tugged the fabric over to cover it, allowing his fingers to graze me just a little in the process. I hope nobody saw.

The heat had us both a little giddy, and we chatted and held hands like schoolkids as we walked the five minutes home. Ethan was some kind of junior academic hotshot, here from America to do research in some dusty library; I told him I was a writer and he always wanted to know what I was working on, even though I’m sure he was just being polite. I was still preoccupied with the way his knuckles had felt for a split second on my nipple, and I could tell he liked what the sundress did for my body; I caught him looking down between my thighs as a breeze caught it and blew the fabric tight over my pubic bone.

Of course, once we were inside we lost all the inhibitions of a crowded Tube platform. I pushed Ethan gently against the wall and kissed him, and he kissed back firmly, with soft lips and a surprisingly tentative tongue, but his hands were already slipping underneath the fabric of my dress, where they grasped my ass firmly. My hands were just as involved, tangling in his curly hair and tracing the firm line of his jawbone.

I’d been craving a break from the heat, and I could tell from the dusty, booky smell of him that Ethan had been hunched in a sweaty library for far too long, so I led him into the bathroom and turned on a cool flow of water from the big, rainfall shower head (god, I miss that flat and its huge bathroom). I stood back from him a little so he could watch as I let the dress fall to the floor. His eyes looked me thoroughly up and down, but they fixed in place and he audibly gasped as I slipped my fingers into the waist of my thong and pulled it down: a sticky bead of moisture turned into a string between my pussy and the fabric, snapping as they passed my knees and fell to the tiles.

I helped Ethan out of his clothes—my eyes just as wide as his, I’m sure, as I pulled down his underwear and let his cock spring out—and then led him under the water. It was a little colder than I intended and he gasped, but his mind was soon elsewhere as I began kissing him again. I ran my fingers down his stomach and gently cupped his balls, and he smiled apologetically as I took his cock in my hand: the cold water had had another unintended consequence.

I had listened bemusedly a few days ago when, in the slightly cramped central London room he was renting, Ethan had told me some of the hardships of being an American man with an uncircumcised cock. This seemed an ideal time to set his mind at ease, so I dropped immediately to my knees and slowly, gently teased him hard once more, gliding my tongue over his foreskin and tugging it gently with my lips, then sucking lightly on the exposed tip of his cock as it started to fill my mouth. His breathing deepened, and I congratulated myself on my idea: I had to imagine that the combination of cool water, running down the aching muscles of his back, and my warm, wet mouth wrapped around his cock, was a pretty delicious one.

‘Jesus, Lottie,’ Ethan said, as I relaxed my jaw and let his cock touch the back of my throat. Eager not to let him have all the fun, I let my hand drop between my legs and slowly circled my clit with my fingers.

For a while, I let him believe I was going to make him cum, adding my hand at the base of his cock, stroking its full length as I took him out of my mouth for a moment and looked up expectantly, the cool water washing away the silky strands of spit and precum which clung to him and to my lips and chin. And I was tempted, too, to let him cover me there and then, but thoughts of the cool white sheets and open window of the adjoining bedroom beckoned, to say nothing of how good I knew he felt buried deep inside me. So as his breath began to quicken I slowed the pace, took him out of my mouth again, held him gently and kissed the tip of his cock as I smiled up at him, stood, kissed his lips deeply once more and turned off the flow of water.

Neither of us wanted to waste any time, and our bodies were still dripping and cool as we stepped into the bedroom. I even had a few goosebumps, and my nipples were firm as he circled them with his thumbs, cupping my breasts, but Ethan’s thick, beautiful cock was still rock hard. I almost wanted to take it into my mouth again, but teasing my clit with my fingers had left me desperate to be filled by him.

So far, we had only had urgent, but straightforward, missionary position sex in Ethan’s room, and he had once eaten my pussy, slowly, carefully and delightfully, as he knelt at the foot of his single bed and played with his cock. Deciding to give him another memorable view, I turned away from him and got on my hands and knees on the bed, my head down, my legs spread wide, and his eyes no-doubt trained on my ass and my pussy, which I knew was dripping wet, and not from the shower. I was on the verge of asking him to fuck me when the touch of his fingers made me gasp, grazing my clit, gently circling my asshole and spreading the glistening lips of my pussy.

I’m not always the most vocal during sex, but as Ethan took his own turn to tease me, touching his cock to the opening of my vagina, applying the slightest pressure and then easing back, over and over again, I was practically whimpering with desire. And when, without the slightest warning, he grasped my hips firmly and buried his cock to the base inside me, I moaned so loudly that half the street must have heard.

I’ll admit, if I was making this story up, this might be the part where he fucks me all night long, throwing me around the bed from position to position, making me cum so many times that I turn into a quivering wreck before he even thinks of finishing, and when he does so perhaps it’s in my mouth, with the taste of his cum mingling with the wet slick of my pussy still clinging to his cock.

Actually, though, hearing me moan like that for the first time—I surprised even myself, to be fair—clearly flipped the cum-switch in his brain, and while he valiantly gave me a few more deep thrusts, I clearly took him a little too close to the finish line in the shower, because moments later he had collapsed onto the bed next to me, leaving what felt like a torrent running rapidly down my thighs.

Luckily, we had the whole evening ahead of us.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/hi1jab/summer_sun_shower_fun_fm