The Shared Shower That Got Out of Hand

What we had started as a silly habit and ended up becoming an addiction. Whenever Nora invited me to her house with a pool, or to some summer outing with more friends, we always ended up showing each other more than we should. Not because there had been any formal proposition or because either of us had said anything outright, but because between us there was always that kind of dirty familiarity fed by lingering looks, crude jokes, and bodies far too close together.

We were both more than old enough and had known each other for years. She knew perfectly well what it did to me to see her in a thong, with those round, firm tits that seemed designed to provoke, and I knew she enjoyed seeing me naked around the apartment, noticing when I got hard and letting out a laugh as if it were some innocent game. It wasn't.

A good while had passed since our last getaway together, but when the idea of spending a few days on the coast came up, I didn't take long to suggest it to her. The excuse was simple: a couple we were friends with were coming too, so the trip was half-arranged already. What I really wanted was to bring back that old tension, that feeling that at any moment we might stop pretending we were just friends with far too much familiarity.

“A room with two beds?” she asked me over the phone, laughing before she had even finished the sentence.

“Of course. Wouldn't want sharing a bed to make us look like a couple.”

“Or worse,” she replied. “Make us honest.”

I spent the rest of the day thinking about that answer.

The apartment was two streets from the beach, with a small terrace, a cramped living room, and a bathroom barely big enough for two people. I knew it the moment I walked in, and precisely because of that, I liked it even more. Our friends took the other bedroom, and from the very first afternoon everything fell back into its natural rhythm: heat, the communal pool, beer, music, and that fucking habit of ours of getting naked as soon as we closed the door.

Nora moved around the apartment with obscene naturalness. Sometimes she wore a thong and no bra; other times she was completely naked, as if it were nothing. I didn't hold back either, walking around with my cock out and noticing how she stole quick glances at me whenever she thought I wasn't looking. The problem was, I was looking. And the more I saw her watching, the harder I got.

“If someone sees us through the window, they're going to get the wrong idea,” she said one afternoon, leaning against the counter with a drink in her hand.

“They'll think you love showing off.”

“And you, what are you showing off?”

She looked down without making any attempt to hide it. I was already half-hard.

“Just enough not to go unnoticed.”

She gave a hoarse laugh and came over to smack me on the ass, as she had so many times before.

“You're always like this with me,” she murmured.

“Because you're always showing off those tits as if you don't know what they do.”

“Then don't look at them.”

“You stop looking at my cock, then.”

We laughed, but inside, there was nothing funny left. There was desire. The good kind and the dangerous kind. I went to sleep with the image of her thong-clad ass burned into my mind, and every morning I woke up wanting to slam her against any wall in the apartment.

On the second night, the four of us went out. We drank too much, danced, sweated, and came back in the early hours with that dirty exhaustion alcohol leaves behind when you're still horny. The other couple were pretty wasted and shut themselves in their room right away. Nora and I stayed in the living room for a moment, barefoot, half-folded over by sleep and by the heat clinging to our skin.

“I'm going straight to the shower,” she said, brushing her hair away from her neck.

“Me too. Whoever gets there first is in charge.”

“Don't even think about sneaking in, asshole.”

I smiled and took off down the hall. I heard her protesting behind me, but by the time she opened the bathroom door, I was already taking off my clothes. I stepped into the shower, turned on the water, and deliberately left the door half-open. It wasn't the first time she'd seen me naked. It wasn't an accident that tonight I wanted her to see me like that.

She appeared a moment later, barely stumbling, with that drunken smile that always came out when her defenses loosened. She stood still for a second, looking me over. My hair was wet, water ran down my chest, and my cock was already swelling between my legs just from seeing her in the bathroom doorway.

“You're such a bastard,” she said. “You sneaked in on purpose.”

“And you came in anyway.”

She didn't answer. She pulled her dress over her head, then took off her panties, and stepped into the shower with me as if it were the most normal thing in the world. The space was ridiculous. Her shoulder brushed my chest, and every movement forced one of us to turn or press against the wall. The water fell on us in turns, poorly distributed, and her naked body was so close that I had to clench my jaw not to grab her right there.

Nora soaped her arms, then her neck, then her tits. She did it slowly, without the slightest modesty, squeezing them with her open palm while I watched. Her nipples were hard from the contrast between water and air, and the foam lingered for a moment on top before sliding down her belly. I lowered my eyes further and saw her completely shaved pussy, glistening with water, barely parted by her stance.

My cock responded on its own. It rose with an almost painful force.

She noticed immediately. She stared down at it, mesmerized, with a small, shameless smile.

“There's something wrong with you,” she murmured. “You get hard every other minute.”

“Because you make it easy.”

“The advantages of being a woman,” she said with a laugh. “Mine isn't as obvious.”

I looked her in the eyes.

“It doesn't need to be obvious. I already know when you're wet.”

Her expression barely changed. Less laughter. More breathing.

We switched places so she could rinse off, and when I turned, my cock brushed against her buttocks. It was brief contact, but dense and hot, impossible to ignore. Nora tensed.

“Don't rub it against my ass.”

“For a shower this size, I'm doing pretty well just not hitting you against the glass.”

She snorted a laugh but didn't move away. On the contrary, she stayed where she was while rinsing the soap from her tits, and I grew harder and harder behind her. I asked her to soap my back. She agreed. Her hands started at my shoulders and moved slowly downward, with that absentminded pressure that was only half absentminded. When she finished, she said:

“Now it's your turn.”

I ran my hands over her back, her waist, her hips. Then I moved down to her ass and squeezed her cheeks apart, slowly, taking my time over the warm, firm flesh. Nora let out a breath through her mouth, as if she wanted to keep acting normal but could no longer manage it completely. I gave her a quick smack. She whimpered softly.

“That wasn't her back anymore,” she said.

“I haven't heard you really complain.”

She hesitated for a moment. I felt it in her body, in the way she let her weight fall slightly toward me. That was the crack I'd been waiting years for.

I moved closer, my hands sliding up to her chest. I covered her tits with my palms and began kneading them slowly and firmly, feeling their round weight fill my hands. My cock was wedged between her buttocks, hard as a rock, wet with water and soap, barely sliding with every breath.

“Hey…” she murmured. “This is already…”

“Does it bother you?”

“No.”

She said it so softly that I almost laughed with sheer relief. I lowered one hand from her tits to her belly and kept moving downward. I spread her legs with my knee and slid two fingers between her pussy lips. She was truly soaked. Not just from the shower. Soaked with need.

“Fuck,” I whispered in her ear. “You've been like this the whole fucking trip, haven't you?”

She moaned and rested the back of her head against my shoulder.

“Shut up.”

“Tell me.”

“Yes… yes, fuck.”

I rubbed her clit with my fingertip while continuing to squeeze one of her tits with my other hand. Nora opened her mouth and let out a clearer, wetter moan, with no laughter left in it. I began rubbing the head of my cock over her entrance, up and down, feeling her lips part as it slid along, slick with her moisture.

“We're friends…” she said, still making one last, weak attempt.

“You're not thinking about that right now.”

“No…”

I moved her hair away from her neck, grabbed it in a fist, and pulled her head back to kiss her throat. I positioned her better with my other hand and pushed slowly. My cock entered inch by inch, opening her. Nora let out a long, almost incredulous gasp as I kept pushing it inside with a slowness that was driving me insane.

“Fuck…” she said. “You're huge.”

“And I haven't even put it all the way in yet.”

I finished sinking into her and stayed still for a second, buried to the hilt. She clenched her pussy around my cock, and that almost made me come right there. I took a deep breath, pressed against her back, biting her shoulder so I wouldn't lose my head too soon.

Then I started fucking her.

At first, slowly. I pulled almost all the way out and went back in with measured thrusts, using the soap and her wetness to make my way in without roughness. Every thrust drew out a new moan, each one clearer than the last. Nora braced one hand against the wall and gripped my wrist with the other, as if she needed to hold on to something to accept what was happening.

“Not slower,” she said between gasps. “Don't stop, but don't stop.”

I only half obeyed. I kept up a firm rhythm, going deeper each time. I squeezed her tits from behind, pinched her nipples, smacked her ass sharply, and then ran my hand over the red mark. Her whole body reacted: trembling thighs, broken breathing, her pussy squeezing me eagerly every time my pelvis struck her buttocks.

“Look what you've done to me,” I said, biting her ear. “Walking around naked all fucking day and now taking this like a slut.”

“Yes… ah… yes…”

“Do you like me fucking you like this?”

“I love it… fuck… I love it.”

I turned off the faucet so I could hear her better. The bathroom filled with gasps, wet slaps, and the sound of our skin colliding. Without the water running in the background, every thrust sounded dirtier, more real. I spread her legs wider with my foot, found a better angle, and began to fuck her harder. Nora wasn't saying no anymore. Nora was moaning my name and begging for more with her voice broken.

When I felt she was about to come, I pulled out abruptly. She turned toward me, her face flushed, confused and aroused at the same time.

“To the bedroom,” I told her.

She didn't argue. She stepped out of the shower trembling, dripping with water and desire. I followed her down the hall, watching her ass move in front of me, still wanting to drive my cock into it right there against the wall. We entered her room, and I pushed her onto the bed. She fell onto her back, her legs spreading instinctively, her breasts rising and falling with a breath she could no longer control.

I threw myself over her and kissed her mouth hungrily, thrusting my tongue inside as I penetrated her again in one stroke. Nora arched her back and dug her nails into my shoulders. I began fucking her for real, without the awkward limitations of the shower, with room to spread her legs, sink deep, and hear the dull smack of my pelvis against her wet pussy.

I sucked one nipple, then the other, while continuing to thrust in and out. My hands never stopped: one on her tits, squeezing and kneading; the other between her thighs, brushing her clit every few thrusts to send her even further out of control. Her body responded quickly. She trembled. She writhed beneath me. She held on to me while also trying to push me away because the pleasure was overwhelming her.

“I'm going to come,” she said in a thread of a voice. “I'm going to come, fuck.”

“Then come.”

I pressed my finger against her clit and drove into her three brutally hard times in a row. Nora screamed. She didn't moan; she screamed. The orgasm exploded through her, making her close her legs around my waist and squeeze me so tightly that I had to slow down to keep from emptying inside her that very second. Even so, I kept moving, short and insistent, taking advantage of the spasms of her pussy around my cock.

“No, no, stop…” she gasped. “If you keep going, I…”

“You what?”

“I can't… it's too much…”

I listened to her for only a few seconds. I sat up, turned her over, and put her on all fours in the middle of the bed. The sight nearly took my breath away: her ass high and round, marked by my hands; her back arched; her pussy swollen and shining from being fucked. I smacked her hard. Then again. Nora shuddered with each one.

“What an ass you've got, fuck.”

“Don't wreck me…”

I ran a hand between her buttocks, found her asshole with a finger slicked by her own wetness, and pressed gently before barely slipping the tip inside. At the same time, I positioned my cock at her pussy and pushed it back in. The moan she let out was long, dirty, and utterly surrendered.

I began at a harder rhythm. Now, yes. Without holding back. My balls slapped against her pussy, and the sound filled the room: flesh against flesh, the bed creaking, her muffled cries against the pillow. I fingered her ass now and then, pulling out and sinking back in while never stopping fucking her. Every time I did, she squeezed tighter around me.

“Like that… like that… fuck…”

“Look at you, Nora. Wide open for me.”

I grabbed her hips and pulled her back onto me to impale her more deeply. The rocking became wilder. Slaps, thrusts, gasps. There was no layer of friendship or play left. Just rough sex, delayed for years, finally pouring out like a broken dam. Nora came again with a hoarse cry, trembling so hard she almost slipped from my hands.

I stopped just long enough for her to breathe. My cock was still rock-hard, glistening and throbbing with how close I was to coming. She looked at me over her shoulder, her hair stuck to her face and her mouth open.

“You're not finished,” she said.

“Not even close.”

I pulled out and touched her chin with the tip. She understood immediately. She turned around, knelt at the edge of the bed, and opened her mouth. I pushed my cock in slowly at first, watching her lips stretch around the glans, then farther down. Nora didn't have perfect technique, but she had an overwhelming desire to please and an avidity that disarmed me. She sucked me while looking at me, saliva running down her chin and one hand squeezing the base as she took everything I gave her.

“That's it… that's it, fuck…”

I gathered her hair into a makeshift ponytail and began setting the pace with my hips. Her mouth was hot, wet, tight. The more she swallowed, the faster my orgasm rose. I touched her tits while she sucked me, pinched one nipple, and that made her moan with my cock in her mouth. The vibration against my shaft nearly killed me.

“Don't stop,” I told her. “I'm going to come.”

I sped up. Her mouth took me again and again, sloppy and eager, and when I couldn't hold back anymore, I pushed all the way to the back of her throat and came. The first spurt burst out hard, hot, straight into her throat. Then another, and another. Nora tried to pull away for a second, but I held her head in place and finished emptying myself into her mouth. When I finally let her go, she coughed, swallowed as best she could, and looked at me with a mixture of anger and arousal that got me hard again almost instantly.

“Bastard,” she said, wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. “You almost choked me.”

“And you still didn't spit it out.”

“Because I was too turned on to waste it.”

We collapsed onto the bed, sweaty, naked, and still buzzing all over. I thought that would be the end of the night. I was wrong. We slept for little more than an hour before I woke with a dry throat and my cock hard again. I went for some water, returned to the bedroom, and found her sprawled across the sheet, one leg bent and her pussy barely covered by shadow.

I didn't wake her with words. I knelt between her legs and began licking her.

At first she only shifted. Then she grabbed my head. Finally she spread her legs all the way and let out a sleepy moan when I slipped my tongue between her lips and began eating her pussy hungrily. She was sensitive from everything before, which made her even more reactive. I sucked her clit, pushed my tongue as deep as I could, moving up and down without pause until she began writhing against the bed.

“Fuck… not again…”

“Again, yes.”

I slid two fingers inside her while continuing to lick her. Nora came on my face with a short, violent spasm, squeezing my thighs against her ears. As soon as she relaxed, I rose and penetrated her again. This time on her side, lifting one leg and entering slowly because she was sensitive, yet still feeling her swallow me eagerly.

It went on for hours like that. Sleeping in snatches and going back to fucking. In bed, in the bathroom, once even in the living room, with the wicked fear that the other couple might come into the hall and hear us. That risk turned us on even more. The voyeurism wasn't just in displaying ourselves to each other; it was in the possibility that someone might see us, that a door left ajar, a shadow in the hallway, or a noise at just the wrong moment might make it even more forbidden.

One of those times, at dawn, I stood her up beside the bedroom window and opened the curtain a few inches. The bluish morning light fell across her naked body. Other buildings stood outside. Other terraces. The city waking up.

“You're crazy,” she whispered.

“And you're wet.”

I spread her legs and penetrated her from behind while she stared at the glass, trembling between fear and arousal. Nothing could be seen clearly from outside, but the possibility was enough. I grabbed one of her tits with one hand and rubbed her clit with the other while fucking her and watching the reflection of us both in the window. Nora bit her lips to keep from moaning too loudly, although every now and then a gasp escaped her, revealing how much she was enjoying it.

“If someone looks…”

“Let them look.”

That was enough to make her come again.

The following days passed in a blur of beach trips, short naps, knowing smiles in front of the others, and disappearing together whenever we found five minutes alone. We kept walking around the apartment naked, except now it was no longer a game of testing the waters. It was a constant threat of getting fucked. If I crossed paths with her in the kitchen, I'd grab her. If she came out of the shower, I'd corner her against the wall and suck her tits until she went crazy. If she lay down on her stomach for a while, it wasn't long before I was spreading her legs and searching for her pussy with my face or my cock.

We talked too, of course. Not much, but enough to make one thing clear: this wouldn't change our lives outside that trip if she didn't want it to. We were still friends. Friends who had spent too long seeing too much of each other and had finally fucked the way their bodies had been demanding for years, but friends all the same.

On the last night, already half-dressed for the return journey the next day, Nora looked at me from the bathroom door and smiled as she had the first time by the pool, except now there was no doubt in her eyes.

“This got out of hand.”

“It got away from us a long time ago. It just took us a while to admit it.”

She came closer, kissed me slowly, and grabbed my cock through my pants.

“If I ever feel like it again, I'll send you a message,” she said.

“What will it say?”

“Just one word. Coast.”

Months later, in the early hours, my phone vibrated. A single message. “Coast.”

And I knew exactly what it meant.