I HAD WAITED four months for this.
Four long months.
And I was determined to make her happy. Happy here. Happy with me.
I shucked my boxers and strode into the shower. The initial look on Sam’s face told me she found it to be a little…unconventional. There were three walls of paned glass, two that faced the landscaped yard and one looking back into the bathroom. I admit, part of the reason I bought the house in the first place was because of the shower.
Always the exhibitionist, indeed.
She stood under the steady spray of the nozzle, rinsing her hair. I moved to stand beside her, allowing the crystalline streams to wash over my face. The warm water felt good. And having her against me, well, that felt even better.
“Can anybody see us? she asked.
"Pretend they can," I replied.
I knew full well that she would get off on the fact that the potential, albeit miniscule, existed to be caught. And frankly, so did I.
“Go stand against the wall with your back to me,” I instructed.
She grinned at me wickedly, complying without a word, and I thought then that she must have made an excellent sub.
"Put your hands up over your head,” I commanded, in the most dominate voice I could muster.
She raised her arms and pressed her palms firmly against the glass.
"Now stick your ass out."
She bent her body slightly and angled her rear towards me. I walked over, gaping for few seconds. She looked so incredibly vulnerable in this position, and vulnerability was a look I was just beginning to know on her. I felt a rush of adrenaline, and I leaned over, running my finger down the crease of her backside.
"Are you going to fuck me like this, Joshua?"
“Do you want me to?” I taunted, rubbing my hard-on against her so she could feel how ready I was.
"Beg me," I said, sternly. "I told you how much I missed you, now I want to hear how much you missed me."
She thought for a moment, and then said, “I missed….I missed the way you feel inside me.” Her words were heavy. “The way…you…fill me up.”
Sweet Jesus, her voice was like a caramel sundae, as it slid down my ears and melted on my brain.
I lowered myself to my knees and brought my hand between her thighs, skimming the outside of her bare lips with the tips of my fingers. “What else?”
“And I missed…,” she whispered, “how you make my mouth go numb.”
I slipped a single digit through her folds and found her clit, stroking it with the pad of my thumb. I needed to hear more, more of how I affected her. During our separation, she’d been extremely thrifty with her feelings, and now, I wanted to milk them all. “What else?”
“I thought about you, everyday….and how much I missed your cock,” she whimpered, rotating her hips against my hand. “Please, Josh. I need you.”
That’s your cue, bud.
I stood up and placed my left hand over hers, while I positioned myself at her entrance from behind. In one smooth motion, I buried myself, and she–oh, holy shitballs she felt good. And wet. And warm. And perfect.
Just like you remembered.
Sam’s head lulled back against my shoulder as I began to move, and we audibly confessed to one another how much we both missed…this.
“Oh God, Josh…yes,” she cried out, and her fingers flexed under mine, the condensation making our grip increasingly slick. I reached up to cover her other hand as I pressed myself into her, praying that the glass wouldn’t break under our weight.
“Am I filling you now, Sam?”
“Go deeper,” she moaned, raising her right leg up to rest on the side of the bench that ran along the adjacent wall.
I gritted my teeth as I pushed into her, feeling myself plunge further. Fucking her was like a drug to me, and each thrust was another hit. I wanted more.
"Is your mouth numb?" I muttered, huskily.
She giggled, nodding her head. “Oh yeah.”
I kept going, “How does my cock feel?”
"So…good…oh…baby…so…good," she panted, with little wails of pleasure interspersed between each word.
I could feel a tightening in my balls. “Jesus, yes,” I snarled, my eyes falling beyond the glass and into the yard, trying to delay my explosion for as long as I could.
"J-Josh…," she stammered, and in response, I pumped her harder.
"Josh!" she shouted again, and I hoped this meant she was crossing the finish line.
I bit into the side of her neck lightly. “I’m ready.”
Shit. Did I do something? Say something? Jesus, did I hurt her?
"What’s…what’s wrong?" I asked, my voice shaking.
Surely, she wasn’t going to ask me to stop. Not…now.
I began to panic. Had I crossed the line by taking control? Maybe I shouldn’t have played the dom card. Maybe I sucked at it.
Unsure of what else to do, I pulled out.
She spun around and looked at me, her blue eyes the color I imagined the ocean to be at the depths that you could no longer breathe. “I want to look at your face,” she spoke, softly. “I want to look at your face when I come.”
With her words, another rush of power struck me. I cupped her ass in my hands and hurriedly hoisted her up, bracing her back against the wall.
She wrapped her legs around me as her fingers gripped my shaft. “Now,” she grunted as she guided me inside of her. “Fucking finish me.”
My fingers dug into the soft skin of her rear as I held her, jerking my hips frantically back and forth, a singular thought drilling in my mind:
Make her happy.
I could tell I was hitting her sweet spot by the way her pussy felt, and how it engulfed me, oh yeah, this was it.
Her lip began to quiver and that–that was the surefire sign.
I pressed my forehead to hers, and she put her arms around me. “I’m yours,” I whispered. “I love you.”
She spasmed, her eyes locked on mine, and I could see her pupils dilate with the crest of her orgasm. She clenched wildly, and it sent me straight into oblivion. I shuddered as I released myself, her contractions still throbbing around my cock.
Oh. Fuck. Yes.
I slumped to a heap on the floor with her in my lap, our energy totally and utterly spent. We sat under the spray of the water, panting.
“Did I…did I do good?” I squeaked, finally.
She sighed. “You’re a life ruiner, Josh Hutcherson, you know that?”
“Takes one to know one,” I retorted, and kissed her.
I kissed her again and again and again.
I had a lot of time to make up for.
*channels Clint Eastwood* Go ahead, make my day. Please?