The Shower

Steam billowed upwards, softening the edges of the small room.He reached into the spray to test the temperature, hesitating for a moment before stepping aside so she could join him if she wished.

She slipped in behind him, the glass door closing with the faintest click.

The sound seemed to draw a line around them, sealing the world out.

Warm water ran over their shoulders, turning awkwardness into something looser, warmer. A few droplets clung to her lashes; he noticed, then quickly looked away as if he’d been caught staring.

Her hair clung to her neck in damp waves.

He lifted a hand, pausing mid-air, silently asking a question.

She gave the smallest nod.

His fingers brushed her hair back, slow and careful, as though learning the weight and texture of her for the first time.

“You look… incredible like this,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could overthink them.

She drew in a soft breath. Compliments were familiar, but not like this. Not from someone who didn’t yet know her patterns or history.

“Feels a bit strange hearing that,” she admitted quietly. “Strange… but nice.”

He stepped closer, hands hovering at her hips rather than claiming them. The uncertainty made the moment sharper, sweeter.

“Tell me if anything feels too much,” he said, voice low, not quite steady.

“It doesn’t,” she replied, letting the water trail down her spine as she leaned into the space between them.

His palms met her hips at last, guiding her a little deeper under the stream. Their bodies aligned, not with the ease of long familiarity, but with that delicious, tentative curiosity that comes from two people still mapping each other’s presence.

She touched his jaw with cautious fingertips, tracing the shape of him as though deciding whether this closeness could become real.

She poured some body wash into her hand, not too much, just enough to get soapy and bubbly.

She started with his chest, let her hands feel his chest hair, circle his nipples and wander down the flat of his stomach. she stopped there, silently seeking permission, a small moan encouraged her to continue.

Her hands slid to his lower back, dropping down to cup his tight butt, then drifted back to the front. She ran her fingers down his thickening shaft, a slow, gentle movement. Her left hand reached for his balls, handling them, playing with them. Her hands came back to his cock, stiffer now, but not demanding, just a beautiful display of their shared pleasure.

“I don’t usually do things like this,” she whispered, half-laughing at her own boldness.

“I don’t either,” he said, breath thickening with something more than desire. “But I can’t seem to look away from you.”

Soaping his hands, he asked her to turn around. A gentle massage of her shoulders and she moaned quietly. His hands slid down her back, caressing every curve, discovering her. He moved in closer, his thick cock pushing politely, his lips kissing her neck as he reached around and washed her front. He marvelled at the softness of her skin, the way she responded to his touch. He stopped when he reached her belly. He turned her back to face him.

Heat mingled with the sound of rushing water.

He rested his forehead gently against hers, and in that small contact something shifted. Trust, maybe, or the first spark of it.

Her hands explored the planes of his shoulders, learning the way he tensed under her touch and then relaxed into it.

His eyes closed briefly, as though committing the moment to memory.

He cupped her face, his thumbs moving slowly, reverently. The kiss that followed was unhurried, tasting of warm water and new beginnings, a careful invitation rather than a claim.

“Look at me,” she said.

He did.

And the air between them tightened, drawn into a quiet gravity neither fought.

They kissed again. Deeper, hungry now.

Hands that were gentle only moments ago, now became firmer. Their breath quickened.

His cock was full erect now.

She felt the full size of him in her hands, she held him with a firm grip. Hands moving faster. Swirling, maximising the pleasure.

Faster now. Firmer.

His control evaporated in the sudden change of pace.

His body tensed.

"Holy fuck. I'm gonna cum" he groaned out.

She sped up even more, feeling his cock swell even more.

His breath fractured, body tightening before the shuddering release overtook him, wave after wave left him gripping the edge of the shower wall, head tipped back into the steam.

When they finally pulled apart, their breaths were uneven.

“Seriously, I don’t usually do things like this,” he laughed when his breathing returned to normal.

They turned off the water. The droplets on her skin glimmered under the bathroom light.

He reached for a towel, hesitated, then offered it to her with both hands, as though handing over something precious.

“Thank you,” she said, wrapping it around herself, feeling strangely shy for the first time since stepping into the steam with him.

He grabbed his own towel but didn’t rush. Didn’t look away either.

They moved into the bedroom, still damp, still warm...

Miranda xox

That one left me a little hot and steamy - how about you?