FRENCH WHORE PLAYS WITH MY SOLID PENIS IN SHOWER
Title: Showering with Sin: A French Whore’s Wet and Wild Encounter
The steam from the hot shower enveloped the couple like a sultry fog, as sovereign strands of water cascaded down their slick skin. Numerically, it seemed a mundane situation – just another tired husband and wife enduring their morning ablutions. But appearances, much like water, can be deceiving.
She stood beneath the showerhead, eyes closed as the warm droplets pelted her face like kisses from an admiring lover. Her lithe limbs glistened under the dim light, droplets rolling off her porcelain skin like tiny rivulets. The soap residue left her body glistening, highlighting her lithe curves and womanly attributes. A sudden nudge on her hip brought her back to earth. It was her husband, watching her from under heavy eyelids.
“Need some help, my love?” he asked huskily, a wicked glint in his eye. She smiled knowingly and stepped aside, allowing him to take her place under the showerhead. She lathered her palms with body wash, watching him with lidded eyes. The suds slid off her fingers as she reached out to trace his chest, drawing circles around his nipples. His sharp intake of breath was her reward.
Her fingertips roamed lower, over his washboard abs to the smoky hair at his groin. His cock jutted out, long, thick and tumescent. She wrapped her small hand around it, feeling the hot, pulsing veins beneath the silken skin. He groaned, tilting his head back as more of his essence unfurled. She began to pump him slowly, her grip sure and confident.
The up-and-down motion of her hand mimicked the steady stream of water from the showerhead. Skin slid over skin, slick with water and body wash. Each stroke coaxed out another tortured groan from his throat. Encouraged, she sped up her ministrations.
She marveled anew at the sculpted beauty of his manhood, hard and ready for her touch. Her thumb swiped over the tip, gathering the bead of moisture there. His cock jerked in response, twitching in her hand. So responsive, she mused with a secret smile. She always loved that about him.
Her grip tightened as her strokes grew bolder. Faster. Harder. Low-grade murmurs of pleasure filled the steamy shower cubicle. Her own arousal spurred her on, making her breathe harder. She could feel the heat coiling low in her belly, her core clenching with need. Her free hand snaked between their bodies, rubbing her aching clit in time with her strokes.
“Fuck,” he hissed, reaching out to grab her wrist. “Stop…I’m getting close.” His voice was ragged, his face a mask of tormented ecstasy. She shook her head mutely, her dark hair whipping across her back. She wanted this, needed this. Wanted to bring him to the edge and push him over it.
She stroked him harder, her grip relentless. The fingers of her other hand delved deeper into her folds, finding the little pearl of her pleasure. Her full lips parting on a cry, eyes squeezing shut. She could feel the coil tightening, her impending orgasm right there.
“God…Amielle…I’m going to…fuck!” His hips jerked forward, seminal fluid erupting from his cock in thick spurts. Hot seed splashed across her belly and breasts, the sensation muddled with the smoothing rain from the showerhead. She matched him pulse for pulse, riding her own orgasm as intense pleasure spiraled through her core.
Finally, it ebbed. She sagged against him, both of them panting harshly. Hot water from the showerhead streamed over their entwined bodies, washing away evidence of their sordid shower. She felt sated, content…but already, a new fire sparked in her belly. Watching him get turned on was a massive aphrodisiac for her.
“Think we have time for another round?” she husked, moving to nuzzle his ear. He laughed breathlessly, sliding his hands down to cup her rear. She smiled, and in that smile was an unspoken promise of more carnal delights to come. So much more…
