Water, Water Everywhere

I unlock the front door and walk in. I’m hot, sweaty and smelly. It’s definitely time for a shower. I’d managed to squeeze in my 5km run just before heading over to the food bank for my shift volunteering. I love lazy summer days. As I hang up my keys, I notice the house is unexpectedly quiet. Could it be? Do I actually have the whole house to myself. A wicked smile sneaks across my face. Best to double check. ‘Hello! Anyone else home?’ No response. I can’t believe my luck. I run up the stairs with a sense of anticipation.

I close the bathroom door behind me and turn the key in the lock. As I pull off my top, I reach across and turn on the hot water on the shower. I shuck my running kit and strip off my sports bra and panties. I reach up as I stand on my tippy toes giving myself a good long stretch. As I step into the shower, the warmth of the water starts easing some of my muscles. I laugh to myself. That won’t last for long.

Reaching across to the shower controls, I change the flow from the overhead shower to the handheld head. With a deft flick of my wrist, I change the water flow from dispersed to a tight stream. I close my eyes and reach down between my thighs and open up my pussy lips wide. With practiced ease, I direct the flow so that it hits right on my clit. A moan escapes me and I lean my head forward against the wall as the water pounds between my legs. Almost without noticing, I feel my body squatting down, spreading wide, giving full access to the water. At the same time, my body rises up onto my tiptoes, tensing my muscles that little bit more. My breathing starts coming out in gasps. Without a doubt, I know if I can find that one perfect spot I will come so hard that I can’t help but scream out in pleasure.

As my arousal grows, I can’t quite find the right place. My mind starts fuming. I bloody well never get the place to myself and I could really use the release. It would be so welcome, so sweet, but no my body just isn’t quite getting me there. I try different angles, different directions. My frustration escalates. ’Please, please,’ I plead with myself. I want to come. I want to come so hard that everything goes hazy. My legs start pumping as my hips start circling, trying to find that precise place that will obliterate my mind.

My body speeds up, the desperation growing. I want this, but I can’t get there. ’Oh please, dear Lord, let me come.’ I close my eyes and grind my teeth in exasperation. My mind refuses to accept failure. ‘No, no, no, no, no! I will get to come!‘ There‘s no missing the tone. This WILL happen. Still, with adjustments to angle, distance, body tension, I can’t find the right damn spot!

I lean my head against the shower wall while the warm water continues to bombard my clit. I try to breathe, I try to eat go of the frustration. I so seldom get the house to myself. I don’t want to waste the opportunity. That’s when I hear you. ‘Slut, what are you doing?’ I let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding, but my hands don’t move. I continue to thrust at the water stream. I hear your laugh. It echoes in the bathroom. ‘What a dirty, little fucking whore. You just can’t get enough, can you? Some sluts would be happy with all you were given last night, but clearly not you. Such a hungry little cunt I own. Isn’t that right now?’ I just nod my head, still straining to fuck the water.

‘You want it don’t you? Getting all hot and bothered. Oooh! Look at that hip action. Surely you can do better than that, whore. Show me just how fast you can pump that cunt. Now that’s better. Squat some more for me. Lower. I said lower bitch!’ I squat down lower as a squeal comes from my mouth.

A diatribe leaves my lips. ‘Oh fuck! That’s it! That’s the spot. Oh holy hell. Fuck me! Fuck me! Come on you dirty whore. You fuck it and fuck it fast. You get that pussy going. Right there, right fucking there.’ The tension in my body tightens to the point that I can barely move. A scream bounces off the walls as a stream of come shoots out of my cunt and into the tub. I collapse against the wall and try to regain my breath. I mutter quietly, ‘So good. So fucking good. God I needed that.’

Slowly, my hand starts to pull the shower head away from my cunt, but before I realise, it pushes back in and my hips start grinding again. Oh hell! Usually just the once is ample and my clit becomes so sensitive I can’t do anything more. Even soaping down and rinsing can be difficult. Clearly, my body has a mind of its own. I try to breath as evenly as I can after tremor after tremor shoots through my whole body. With each small death, my control slips even further away. Every few minutes, I try to pull the shower head away, and still it keeps finding its way back. What the fuck is going on. I knew I was hungry, but it’s become ridiculous, but I just can’t stop.

A constant stream of swearing escapes my lips, ‘fuck, oh fuck, damn, no more, please, no more. I’m begging please.’ I don’t know which is in control, my body or my mind, but this is becoming one hell of a ride. Still, I grind the air and shoot the jet stream into my cunt, moaning as I come again and again. A sharp gasp rips from me. ’Right there, right fu….’ Before I can complete my thoughts, another gush leaves my cunt as I scream loud enough to break down the walls. My knees start to buckle. I grab my wrist with my other hand and pull the shower head away from me. I drop it onto the floor of the tub and try to regain some sort of coherent thought. It’s a long time coming. As I recover, I shampoo my hair and lather my body. I enjoy the feel of the rough grains inside the soap that just brings that little bit of pain to the surface. Man, I love the small pleasures in life.

Finally, I turn off the tap and hang onto the wall so that I can safely step out of the bath. My legs still feel a lot like jelly. As I glance over to the counter, I realise that I have been fucking myself for well over thirty minutes. I can still feel the constant thrum of orgasm transmitting through my body. I look down, and I am utterly stunned. My pussy lips are so swollen, they are sticking out of my mound. Oh good Lord, what have I done?’

I lower myself to the floor and immediately arrange myself into the position of obeisance. I go down on my hands and knees, then lower myself more so that my forearms rest on the floor. I lower my backside to rest on my heels. I close my eyes. I take a few deep breaths. I hear through the door, the lyrics of ’What Am I To You’. I push my mind to blankness, and think, what am I to you, Sir? I am yours to command, to order. I desperately hope that I’ve not stimulated myself so much that I will be useless for you to play with this evening. I wish fervently that I’ve not gone too far. I fear even touching myself this evening will be too much. What was I thinking? That’s easy. I wasn’t.

Again, I slow my mind. I blank it again. I’m here to wait. I’m here for you. I’m pleased to serve you. The next song filters into my ears. It’s Garth Brooks‘ The River’. Yes, it’s true. It’s been one heck of a journey. I smile to myself thinking back to all of the twists and turns our journey held. Who would have thought that we’d end up here?

I stand up and continue with my day.