Though only Tuesday, the week seems to be dragging on. As we lounge on the couch watching the baby monitor and working on our respective laptops, I know we need some naughtiness to get us through the week.
I close my work and saunter to the bathroom to start the shower. Returning to the living room in only my robe, I flash my husband and call out, “Feeling dirty, big guy?” Then I scamper back to the shower.
As I drop my robe to step into the tub, I feel warm hands catch my hips. He pulls me back against him to grind against his denim-clad bulge, then tantalizingly traces my areolas as I turn my head to nibble his bottom lip.
I help him shed his clothes, and we step into the tub and under the streaming water together, taking turns at cleansing away the day’s filth. As he grabs his body wash a second time, I steal some suds and begin to lather him. Across his strong, broad shoulders. Down his rippling muscled back. Over and below his ass cheeks, so perfectly round and tight that I want a bite.
I slide in closer, and my piqued, sensitive nipples are crushed against his back as I reach past his hips to lather his member. He comes to life in my hands and presses back against me as I tug and twirl my hands along his growing dick.
I release him, and we swap places so that he can rinse off the suds. He’s clean in a flash and forcefully spins me to face the back wall of the tub enclosure. Spreading my hands and pressing them against the wall, he begins to return the torture. He lathers my body wash on his hands and firmly massages it onto my shoulders. Without any build-up, his hands snake around my ribs and tug my nipples. A shriek escapes my lips but is replaced by a moan as his soapy hands grasp, fondle, and knead my breasts. I arch my back and watch my suspended globes sway and bounce as he does far more than due diligence to cleanse my skin.
With hands clasped around my breasts and pulsing pinches on the nipples that peak between his fingers, he leans over my back to nibble my ear. I push back against him and am rewarded with the pressure of his thick meat sliding between my legs and taunting my lips. My moans turn to a growl as I move to stand up, but his hand on my right teat pulls me down while his left hand goes to my hip.
I quiver, whether from the handling and anticipation or from being out of the warm water for so long, when I feel his hands descend. Those strong, calloused hands firmly press against me as they travel from breast to ribs, ribs to hips, hips to ass, then down the insides of both legs.
Feeling my freedom, I take the opportunity to turn. Grabbing his hips, I kiss my way down his stomach until I’m kneeling. I grasp his ass, and the warm shower trickles over both of us again as I drop my head to his cock. I want to tease—to nibble his foreskin then pull it back to kiss and rub against the head—but I’m too hungry to feel this cock inside of me. So I relax my throat and pull his perfect ass towards me, engulfing more of his dick in my hot mouth than I ever have. I gag, come up for air, sputter as the water hits me, then repeat. Suck, gag, breathe, splash. Suck, gag, breathe, splash. My fingers dig into his flesh, pulling his hips and wordlessly begging him to fuck my mouth as the water ripples down his back.
I’m getting wetter and wetter—and not just from the shower. As I ponder whether he’ll finally honour me by coming in my mouth, he withdraws, and I’m left hungry.
I wonder at his plans as he puts the stopper in the drain and changes the shower spray to the tub nozzle. But I don’t care anymore because his hand is back on my breast, his mouth is on mine, and his other hand is tangled in my hair, leaning me back to sit against the back of the tub. My legs splay out, and he ravishes my mouth with his tongue as he kneels between my legs. I suck on his tongue, then gasp as he unceremoniously thrusts two fingers into my unprepared pussy.
I thrash as he thrusts, and the bathroom is filled with a symphony of moans, slapping flesh, the squeak of my ass against porcelain, and the splash of the rising water as he mercilessly pounds now three fingers into my hot hole.
“Please, I can’t wait anymore. Take me to the bedroom and fuck me properly!”
He ignores my plea or takes license with the interpretation because, in the next instant, he’s grabbed my hips and pulled me low in the tub while flinging my legs up over the edges. I’m splayed spread-eagle with the back of my head down in the rising water. He teases me and twists my nipples, hearing me mew for more, more, more!
Now he laces his arms under my legs and lifts my hips just enough to plunge his raging cock deep into my vagina. I hump hard against him, desperate to feel him deeper, but every thrust causes the rising bath water to crash in waves over my chest and face.
My ears now below water, I watch in muted silence as he thrusts and grinds. I feel my tits slurped into his mouth, and my back arches as he nips. I’m in underwater bliss, riding the waves of pleasure as he rolls into me again and again.
Suddenly, he withdraws. I pull my head from the water to protest, and he takes the opportunity to flip me to my knees. I attempt to crouch in doggie, but my knees slide in the wet tub, and my hands are at a loss for somewhere to hold while being properly fucked.
“Wait, what if I come up?” I counter, scrambling to my feet. I plant one foot on the bottom of the tub and the other on the edge and grasp the towel bar just outside the shower curtain. Feeling like a sexy siren, I push my ass backward and present my pussy for a proper standing fuck. I flip my dripping hair over my shoulder and look back to invite him in. Though I feel like I’m in my sexiest stance, my turned head now sees my awkwardly haunched, squatting, crab-walking husband trying to line up with my entrance, to no avail. (Sparing his dignity, I didn’t share this visual description with him).
“Our heights are too unevenly matched,” I tell him as I lower my foot and grab his dick to massage it and keep it at full mast while we strategize. At 5’1”, I’m nearly able to titty fuck him on my feet as he stands at his full 6’2”. “If you’re going to fuck me standing up, we’ll need some help.”
I continue furiously rubbing his cock while reaching past him to turn off the water. Then, keeping one hand on his staff, I use the other to twist my hair up as I step from the tub. He eagerly follows me out into the bathroom, anxious to see my solution to our height disparity.
With my foot, I lithely open the sink cabinet and kick out a stool I had hidden there in case this moment arose. Sliding it into place, I step up and release my grip on his dick to place both hands on the sink.
He grinds himself hard against me, slipping his cock between my legs and thrusting madly in anticipation. But he takes a moment to grab a towel and reach oast me to clear the steam from the mirror. We both gawp at the visual.
My tits hang and swing with his powerful thrusts against me. My mouth is open, wantonly gasping as I wait to be ravaged. My hot, hunky hubby is poised behind me, ready to fuck me proper and fill me with his seed. I moan, horny just seeing us ready to fuck.
Our eyes lock in the mirror as one hand grasps my shoulder, and the other guides himself into my dripping pussy. My moan could shake the foundation as he plunges deep into me, finally giving me the shattering pounding I was desperate for in the tub. He pinches my nipples and swirls his hands around my breasts as he thrusts relentlessly. I hear flesh slapping, but I can’t tell if it’s my tits wildly flapping or the sound of his balls smashing against my ass.
“Fuck! Yes! Fuck! Aaahh! Fuck! Ugh! Fuck! Mor-” My words are incoherent as he pumps wildly into me. I hang on to the sink for dear life, supporting both our weight as he alternates between groping my tits and clutching my shoulders to pull me deeper into his impaling.
Even though my pussy is singing from how deep the penetration is, I press back into him. I watch in the mirror as the droplets from the shower on our skin are replaced by sweat as we both get worked into a frenzy. Then, with a giant moan, I arch my back and clench my walls around his cock, milking it as he finishes wildly and unleashes stream after stream into me. As he rises, relishing in the post-coitus bliss of having just ravaged his wife standing, I continue to rock back against him to finish riding out the waves of pleasure.
Our eyes meet in the mirror. “Add that to your repertoire,” he tells me. “I liked fucking my dirty girl clean!”
He tweaks my nipples as he withdraws, and I inadvertently sigh at feeling so open, empty, and hungry without his cock. Stepping down from the stool to grab my robe, I hear the sound of water running again. Extending a hand from behind the shower curtain, peaking out, eyes sparkling, he offers: “Clean up time?” and I’m eager for round two.
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