A Fly in the Shower

John and Darnell ran down the street as quick as their legs would allow. The burn in their thighs was only matched by their stomachs. Both 25, slim yet sculpted, the boys were back in town.

A girl in yellow running shorts blitzed by, yet not too fast for Darnell’s eyes to flit past her legs, and up past her bosom to search her left hand as he asked himself, Is she married?

“Let’s go dude!” John yelled as he held the door open to the burger joint. Finally, they’d made it. It was leg day.

“Who was she?” Darnell lamented sipping his shake.

“I’d tell you to run find her, but we both know you can’t run, bud.”

“Good thing you’re married and don’t have to,” Darnell smirked.

“You haven’t seen my honey-do list, brotha!”

“But do you run to or away from doing the list?”

John was grateful to be married, but sometimes he wished he could lie in bed, or wake up and just play video games. He’d prayed as much last night. He wondered about answered prayers, and his thoughts wandered to Charlene, his wife.

Darnell’s voice became distant… hazy. Slowly, the world got darker…

John woke into a daydream, finding himself in his bedroom, hearing the shower running in the master bathroom. He also heard buzzing, as he imagined himself as a proverbial “fly on the wall.” He jumped from the bedpost and flew over to the slightly open bathroom door. Over the buzzing of his imaginary wings, he heard a familiar moaning… Charlene.

“Oh… ohhh…”

John peeked into a bathroom full of steam, yet he still made out her body through the artificial fog. He had a full view of her buttocks, legs and naked back as she ran her fingers up and down her legs.

She pinched her nipples with one hand and rubbed her navel slowly. She undid her hair as the shower mist began to glisten on her skin. She moved her hand to mouth, where she licked two fingers.

Her other hand gently held her breast, then squeezed it. She began muttering something…

“You want me, I want you,” she rasped.

She grabbed her hairbrush, then slowly rotated it with her fingers with one hand, now pinching her nipple with her other.

Charlene unexpectedly turned off the shower, and John flinched behind the doorknob, fearing he’d been heard. But he was careful not to turn it.

He held his breath and listened until, a few seconds later, her moaning resumed. He stared through the cracked-open door as she lifted her foot to the tub and rubbed up and down her legs, finally moving to her clit. She slowly rubbed her fingertips around her small tuft of hair, then finally pressed in with a gasp. He watched her chest rise as she cupped her breast, her eyes closed in peaceful pleasure.

She took the toothbrush and inserted the handle slowly into herself, then let it swirl inside her. Slowly, her body took in more, then more, then even more of the brush as she leaned over.

“John…” she muttered. “Take me…”

She sat on a folded towel on the floor and relaxed back against the tub, then closed her eyes, facing almost directly toward him. With her legs splayed wide open, he could see her inner thighs, now slightly slick. John could smell her feminine arousal in the misty air of the shower as she rubbed her vulva and then dipped her fingers inside. With her knees bent, she began to rub her wetness down her leg, and her toes curled.

Slowly she rubbed between her legs with one hand and massaged her breast with the other. “Take me, John,” she whispered, letting her head fall back. Her hand was moving quicker.

John marveled at her reddening chest, her disheveled hair, the soft roundness of her thighs, and the vagina that had clasped him so many times.

She rubbed intensely, occasionally inserting her middle and ring fingers into herself. The sounds of her ragged breath grew louder, as did the sloppy pounding sounds. She suddenly got on all fours. “Take it, John!” she yelled as she smacked her cheek, her butt jiggling as her breasts dangled. She smacked her butt one more time, then hurried her fingers to her patch.

On her knees, she imagined his girth punishing her. She imagined gradually taking more and more inside her. She grabbed her brush and slowly lowered herself up and down on the handle while holding her breast. “God yes,” she groaned, biting her lip and squeezing her breast.

Feeling the heat rise, she dropped the brush and bunched up her towel on the mat. Outstretched, she ground her vulva slowly on the towel.

John watched her moan as her breasts shook, her hips grinding. He imagined taking her moaning body—grabbing her and her bum, pressing her deep into their bed, feeling her slickness on his ramming power pole as she clenched. In and out…

Her moans slowly grew distant, as did the buzzing of wings, as his daydream as a fly on the wall came to an end. Or perhaps, a fly in the shower.

Suddenly, he returned to reality to find Darrell staring into his eyes. He liked his workout buddy, but it was a disappointing sight compared to the daydream he’d just had.

“Lunch is here, dude,” Darrel said. “Snap out of it! Hey, where you goin’?”

Much to his friend’s bewilderment, John left with barely a goodbye. With those images filling his mind… he had a new and very enjoyable task to add to his honey-do list.