It was a couples’ five-day getaway: my wife and I, along with her sister and husband. Although my sister-in-law is four years older than my wife, she got married only six months before we did. We were all still basically newlyweds, taking our first vacations since our honeymoons. Still very young and poor, we decided to save some money by sharing a hotel room. Our room was lovely, with a walk-in shower rather than a tub and two queen beds. It was a nice place to come back to after busy days.
We filled our days with activities from sun up until after sundown. In the evening, we would return to our hotel room to shower and head to bed. Once we were in bed, we could snuggle together and kiss. I also took the opportunity to squeeze my wife’s fabulous breasts. But that only lasted so long before she would stop me because she couldn’t keep from making noises. Our routine for the trip was pretty much the same every day, and we had lots of fun, but the evenings for both couples were getting tough. As I said, none of us had been married long, and we were starting to miss the intimacy we had in our alone time.
On the third day, we had a very early morning, but our activities finished a little earlier than usual. It was an incredibly hot day, and we’d walked well over eight miles. When we got back to the room, we relished the air conditioning, and each couple relaxed on their beds. We lay there to the point of almost falling asleep, but we had dinner reservations, and we all wanted to take a shower before we ate. Our little break had eaten up more time than expected, and now not much time remained before dinner.
My sister-in-law came up with a solution and presented it as a statement, not a suggestion. The couples would have to take showers together to save time. She didn’t hesitate. Once she said it, she hopped up off the bed, grabbed her clothes, and headed to the bathroom with her husband following quickly behind.
Finally alone, albeit a little perplexed with the new situation, my wife and I took advantage and started to make out. We were both a little nervous that the other pair might walk in on us, but once we could hear the shower running, we assumed we would be safe until it stopped. While kissing was the primary activity, my hands were busy roaming over my wife’s body, unfortunately over her clothes.
Soon enough, we heard the shower stop, and we broke our embrace, got up from the bed, and dug through our suitcases to find fresh clothes to put on after our turn. We had barely gotten everything we needed when the bathroom door opened, and our brother-in-law stepped out. His wife was quickly drying her hair at the sink. Once her hair was mostly dry, she hurried out of the bathroom, makeup bag in hand to finish getting ready in the room while my wife and I headed in for our shower.
We closed the bathroom door and locked it. I turned the bathroom fan timer back to the maximum length of time. It was hot and steamy because, as we all know, hotel bathroom fans are worthless. My wife reached into the shower and turned it back on as I started to undress. The shower was all tile, about the same length as a tub but almost twice as wide—plenty of room for two. My wife started to undress, and because I started before her, I was able to watch as more and more of her body was exposed. As she unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor, I was able to see her large breasts for the first time in days, and my cock quickly hardened.
Still pressed for time, we stepped into the water falling from the showerhead. We each took our turn in the water and then began to soap up. My wife started by washing her hair, so I seized my opportunity and began to help my wife clean her body. Taking the soap in my hand, I stood in front of her and washed her breasts thoroughly. I then moved down her stomach and to her legs, scrubbing her thighs and calves before coming back up and washing her wonderful ass.
Turning toward the showerhead and facing away from me, my wife rinsed the soap out of her eyes. This allowed me to wrap my arms around her and wash between her legs. When I did, she stopped rinsing and moaned as she pressed back into me, pushing my rigid member against her.
My wife reached down, moved my hands from her, and turned around to rinse her hair. I help flush the rest of her body, particularly her breasts that were now right in front of me, and so inviting. Once she had finished, she stepped out of the water and let me take her place.
I, too, washed my hair, and my wife took her turn at cleaning me. Her hands roamed across my chest and back, along my legs and ass, eventually reaching my stiff shaft. She made sure to get every inch of it and my balls as I took my time washing and rinsing my hair.
Now I needed to finish rinsing, but by now, my wife had gotten soap on her again while lathering me. I pulled her into the water with me, and we embraced and kissed as if standing in the rain. The water running down our bodies made them slick and wet. We kissed and rubbed each other, both wiping the soap away and touching each other. Our hands ended up on each other’s crotch, mine finding her wet slit and hers wrapping around me.
My wife looked deep into my eyes, and without saying a word, we knew what was on both our minds. “We’d better be quick,” was all she said and then turned around. She pressed back into me again, this time reaching between her legs to guide my cock to her opening. I slid deep into her wetness, and she moaned in response.
We would have both loved to have taken our time and enjoyed each other, but our reservation time fast approached. I started thrusting into my wife slowly but gathered speed. She bent forward, putting her arms against the shower’s tile wall for support and pushed back into me. The water was splashing on her back, running down and joining with the juices coming from her. Reaching around, I squeezed her breasts as our bodies slapped together. I felt the charge building as I buried my rod in her and unloaded deep inside.
We had only a moment to rest before one last quick rinse. I grabbed two towels as I turned the shower off. Drying as promptly as we could, we looked in the fogged-over mirror at each other. My wife’s makeup had smeared and ran down both cheeks, and my face looked flushed.
I leaned over and kissed my wife as she grabbed her makeup bag. We both dressed as best we could on a slippery, damp floor without falling. When we were both mostly presentable, we opened the bathroom door. I escaped the heat and humidity of the small bathroom to finish getting ready. My sister-in-law joined my wife in the bathroom to finalize her hair and makeup.
The rest of our evening went great. The meal was lovely, and we had fun afterward, too. Nothing was ever said or even suggested concerning any extra bathroom activities for either couple. My wife and I suppose something similar happened to them, but we’re not sure. Regardless, it was a fabulous experience that I think about from time to time. Hard to believe it was almost 25 years ago.
While my wife and I have expanded our sexual experience library, I doubt she would ever do this again—partly because she is more nervous around other people and partly because she could never be quiet enough for the shower to drown out her moans.
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