A girl, a shower massager, and her willing-to-get-wet beau — nothing could be more blissful for these lovebirds.

I love my shower. I can’t say that enough. I worship the glass walls and the blue-and-white tiles. I adore the cobalt fixtures. But mostly, I love the shower massager. Perhaps this is cliché, but I think there is nothing as sublime as surrendering to the perfect pressure of a well-placed shower faucet. Mine is particularly special. I did a great deal of research ahead of time before purchasing this exact style most suited for my desires. If I could have test-driven one, I would have. As it was, I read every review I could find, until I knew that this device was the one for me.

Usually, I give myself orgasms at the end of the day. I work hard, I play hard, and then I get into the shower and I come hard. I’ve tried the shower nozzle every which way. I’ve manipulated the multiple speeds. I’ve teased myself with the temperature zone — hot, cold, hot is my favorite pattern. I’ve pressed the sprayer as close as I possibly could to my pussy and I’ve used the raindrops on my asshole.

The only thing I’d never done was share the exotic, erotic experience with a partner — until yesterday.

My boyfriend had spent the night, as he often does on Fridays. He was still sleeping peacefully when I got out of bed and decided to take a shower. There was no reason I’d kept my love affair with my shower spray a secret. I wasn’t ashamed. I simply hadn’t felt the need to share. I was in the throes of a perfect orgasm when I heard the bathroom door open. The simple truth is that I couldn’t stop coming — I’d passed the point of no return. I wondered whether there was enough steam in the room to hide what I was doing. Before I could decide one way or the other, the door to the shower opened and Brad stepped inside. There I stood: legs spread apart in a comfortable stance, spray pointed directly at my snatch, body arched and frozen.

“What have we here?” Brad asked, smirking. I let the showerhead go limp in my hand, so that the spray arched upward and hit the wall. Brad quickly took the nozzle from my hand, and then he stepped closer and kissed me hard. I lost myself in the feeling of his mouth on mine for a moment, surprised when I felt the wet pounding against my aching clit once more. He’d brought the handle between our bodies, and he was angling the device perfectly.

“Wait… ” I said, begging. I’d only just come. I was far too sensitive for such an onslaught again. He didn’t stop, but he did dial down the device so that the water droplets falling on my pussy did so in a lighter, more springtime less thunderous manner.

Brad watched my face carefully as he adjusted the showerhead. “So this is why you take such long fucking showers,” he said, and he laughed.

“I don’t… ” I stammered. But I do. He was telling the truth. I’ve never managed to not come in the shower. The urge is too powerful. Once I step into the sanctuary, I always know how the shower will end.

“Show me what you like,” he said next, handing over the head.

“What do you mean?”

“You need me to spell it out?” He started tracing letters on my chest with one finger, and as he drew the letters, he said them out loud. “S-H-O-W — ”

“I get it,” I stopped him. “You want me to demonstrate. But I’ve never done that before.”

“So you’re suddenly a shy girl?” The smirk was back in place.

I couldn’t pull that off. Brad knows that I’m far from shy. In fact, the way we originally got together involved me flashing him at a friendly, neighborhood barbecue.

“No, I’m not a shy girl.”

“Then show me.”

I leaned back against the wall. We were lost in a steamy wonderland at this point, the air thick with the heat. Brad turned the temperature down a little bit and he stared at me expectantly. Very slowly, I brought the showerhead between my thighs.

“I don’t think so,” he said teasingly, in response to my demure behavior. “I know what you’re like.”

He did. We’ve been in all sorts of positions together — reverse cowgirl, doggy-style, missionary (just for the hell of it). And in every way we’ve joined, I’ve responded lustfully. I’ve never been bashful or quiet about my desires or needs. So why was I experiencing stage fright — or shower fright? Because this was something I’d only done solo before; it had always been me and my shower.

Brad said, “What if I go first?”

“What do you mean?”

“I do things in the shower, too, you know.”

“What sort of things,” I asked him, my interest piqued.

“You think you’re the only one with a wet-and-wild side?” he taunted me, and I watched as he opened the shower door and grabbed a towel. He kindly shut the door behind him, so that I could continue to bask in the steamy atmosphere. When he returned, he had a package of brand-new rubber dishwashing gloves with him. I couldn’t have been more confused. Was he going to wash my shower? Was that some sort of new kinky fetish I’d never heard of before?

Brad smiled at me and said, “I like the way rubber feels against my skin. I sometimes wear a glove in the shower. I touch myself all over with the rubber-covered hand, and I jerk my cock with the other.”

I was looking at my boyfriend in a whole new way. “Show me,” I said, echoing his earlier desire.

“Ah… that’s how we got here in the first place,” he reminded me.

I had to admit that he was right. He’d wanted me to demonstrate how I used the showerhead. Now all I could think of was watching him masturbate in his own private, special manner.

“What if we do it together?” I asked.

“I have an even better idea,” he said, offering me a glove. “What if we do it to each other?”

I could feel myself getting hotter — and not just from the water. I hooked the showerhead back in its spot for a moment. Then I dried my hand on the towel hanging over the door, and I slid on one of the gloves. Brad, meanwhile, had snatched up the shower nozzle. He was playing with the different speeds and feeling the pressure against his chest.

“I can see why you like this,” he said. “It must feel like a vibrator made of pulsing bands of water.”

“Exactly,” I said, and I stroked my cheek with my rubber-coated fingertips. “I can see why you like this,” I told him. “There’s something sort of seductive about touching your own skin with a barrier. It’s almost like — ”

“Someone else is touching you,” Brad finished my sentence for me. Then we looked at each other. It was time to get to work — or play. It was time to get busy. I caressed his chest with my rubber-gloved hand. He moved closer and held the shower spray up to my split. He started with the machine on a low, slow setting, simply to whet my appetite — as it were. I let my fingers move down his body, almost tiptoeing my fingertips along his strong pecs, across his flat belly. I could tell that he wanted to feel my hand on his cock, but I wasn’t ready for that yet. I wanted to really enjoy every single second of my journey.

Suddenly, I had a thought. I squeezed shower gel into my glove and made my hand all bubbly. Then I began to jack Brad’s cock. He stopped paying attention to my pussy, and the showerhead tilted, spraying the wall behind me.

“Brad… ”

“Sorry. That feels so good.”

I let him fuck the bubble-filled palm of my hand, and then I took the showerhead from him and carefully rinsed away the suds. The machine was still on the low, pulsating setting, but even that was enough to make Brad groan and buck his hips forward, as if he were fucking an invisible woman. “That feels so good,” he said.

“Then you should feel this,” I told him, and I moved him so he was facing the wall, and I went on my knees behind him. Gently, I used my gloved fingers to part his muscular asscheeks, and I let the shower spray find his nether hole.

Brad groaned loudly, the sound echoing against the tiles. I could tell he appreciated the sensation when he moved his legs even wider apart and bent forward, so I could reach deeper between his cheeks. I flipped the setting so that the spray came down harder, in more focused pellets of water. I love the feeling of playing with the device on my own private regions. I wanted Brad to experience the wonders of the waterfall on his asshole.

I saw him reach a hand down to his cock, his rubber-clad hand, and I knew he was touching himself. But that was my job! I stopped him and had him face me once more. I rinsed off his cock so there were no bubbles left, and then I started to blow him while using the spray on his backdoor. I knew that he could feel the water on his anus while my mouth took him higher and higher. I was so busy; I didn’t even pause to think about my own pleasure. But luckily for me, Brad did.

“Stand up,” he said, and I stopped what I was doing and followed his direction. He positioned me so that I was the one facing the wall, and then I felt his cock probing between my thighs, searching for my pussy. I guided him inside me using my rubber-clad hand, and Brad hissed under his breath. I couldn’t believe he’d never confessed this fetish to me before, but then who was I to think like that? I’d never told him about my love affair with my showerhead.

When he was in me, he instructed me to use the nozzle against my pussy. How had I never fantasized about this? Being filled by Brad’s thick cock while working the shower spray over my swollen clit was like something from a dream. A wet dream. Brad had his hands on my hips — one rubber-covered, the other naked. I reveled in the two different sensations. Then, to my delight, Brad started to touch my asshole with his gloved fingertip.

“Oh, fuck,” I whimpered. “That’s going to make me come.”

“Then come,” he demanded, and I did, closing my eyes and shivering even in the heat of the shower. The lustful contractions worked to embrace Brad’s cock, and soon he was coming inside me, filling me up with his own release. I let the showerhead fall from my hand and the spray ricocheted wildly around us. Brad recaptured the nozzle and fit it into the holder, then he peeled off his glove and I removed mine. We showered together in silence, both of us glowing and pink and transported.

What a way to start a Saturday! I would have been satisfied if that had been the pinnacle of our weekend, but apparently our new dirty way to get clean gave Brad all sorts of kinky ideas. He excused himself to run errands, promising to be back before long. I felt liquefied by the sensuality of our encounter, and I told him the only thing on my schedule was a serious meeting with the deck chair and a romance novel.

I was on the deck, sunning naked, when Brad approached me. I tilted my sunglasses at him, curious at what he was holding.

“I saw how much you liked the water vibe,” he said, brandishing a bag that was black and pink and stuffed with pastel tissue paper. “I thought you might like a real one.”

I grabbed the bag from his hand and tore into the tissue. He’d bought me a vibrator and a bottle of lube. Wait, what was this? There was a second vibrator, smaller than the first. I looked at Brad and saw he was gazing at me expectantly. “One for each hole,” he said by way of explanation. I couldn’t rip open the packaging fast enough.

“Don’t you want to go inside?” he asked.

“Why?” We were in our backyard, which is plenty secluded from our neighbors by both a fence and a ring of trees. There was no need to retreat. Besides, the thought of Brad working both my holes with the devices outside rather than inside was a double turn-on!

I spread the purple towel out on the deck, which I knew would be more secure than the chair. Then I handed the new toys to my man. He opened the bottle of lube and got the larger vibrator well coated. I waited for his instructions. How would he want me?

Brad positioned me on my knees facing him. His first request was for me to lick and suck the living cock in front of me. I did so automatically. I adore blowing Brad, and he knows how wet this action makes me. My natural lubrication always kicks in when I open my mouth and draw him inside. He had me worship his cock for a few minutes before he moved away and told me to turn around. On my hands and knees, I tried my best to guess what would happen next.

Where would Brad start? How would he begin?

I felt a cockhead part my pussy lips from behind. Slowly, the dick worked into my cunt. I closed my eyes, concentrating. Was it Brad? The cock felt thick and hard, like Brad, but then a motor whirred on, and I realized that this was one of my new presents. For a few moments, I thought of nothing except my new toys. This was even better than my showerhead. I couldn’t actually believe I’d had that thought. But being penetrated by the toy and then having the added satisfaction of that rumbling motor was divine. I was so lost in that headspace of near-nirvana, that I didn’t realize Brad had said something.

“What was that?” I murmured.

“You take over,” he said. I did as instructed, grabbing the toy by the base and taking charge of my own pleasure. Brad came around to my front again, and I started to suck him while I worked the toy in and out of my desperate pussy. The sweet vibrations were intense and delicious. I realized that I would be able to come quickly — maybe too quickly — with this neat prize. And that’s when Brad stopped the blowjob once more and returned to my backside. I held my breath as he parted my cheeks, and then I felt the initial intrusion of the other toy.

“Oh, my fucking God,” I whimpered. That was only the first inch, too. He went slowly, making sure I could take each thrust of the new dildo into my rear. Could I? I started to push back against him when he wasn’t moving fast enough. That won a low laugh from Brad, who seemed delighted by my voraciousness.

“You want it all, don’t you?”

I nodded, bucking back and forth and fucking myself with the vibrator. I even turned the motor up a little bit, making myself breathless with the rumbling engine inside my snatch. I was right on the cusp, completely out of my head, when Brad said, “Come for me. I want to watch you.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. With Brad still fucking my ass with the dildo and me working the vibrator in my pussy, I came in a rush. Right as I climaxed, Brad turned on the motor on the vibe in my ass. I hadn’t known pleasure like that before. The first climax became a second climax, became a third climax. I was limp and totally used up by the time I removed the vibrator from my pussy. Gently, Brad slipped the toy from my asshole, and I collapsed onto the towel, spent.

But then I realized . . . poor Brad was still as hard as marble. He was looking down at me, seemingly in appreciation of the bliss he’d just witnessed. “Hold that thought,” I said, and I scooped up the toys and brought them into the house with me. I gave them a hearty clean-up job in the sink and then returned to Brad. He was lying down on the towel in the sun, and he was ever so lazily playing with his handsome cock.

“My turn,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, actually, I mean your turn,” I amended.

He arched a brow. I brandished the toys.

“And your plan is what precisely?”

I lubed up the smaller vibrator and I said, “Are you game?” Brad looked mildly concerned, but then he assumed the position I had most recently abandoned, and I got behind him.

“Touch your cock,” I instructed.

He brought a hand between his legs as I inserted the smaller vibrating toy in his ass. Brad moaned, letting me know that he liked the way it felt. I worked slowly, not wanting to race to the finish. When I saw that his hand was pistoning faster, I turned on the engine. Brad cried out. I knew exactly what he was feeling, since I’d experienced the same delirious sensation only minutes before. But now I wanted to give Brad the royal treatment. I reached for the second vibrator, paused in my motions, and turned it on. Then I brought the bigger device between Brad’s legs and started to ever so lightly stroke his cock and balls with the tip of the vibrating toy.

“Oh, yes!” Brad called out. I’d never heard him so excited before. Two fisted, I worked my man, and he came in almost no time, shooting his semen all over the towel before collapsing onto the terrycloth and sighing.

I extracted the smaller vibe and turned off both devices. Then I settled next to Brad on the deck. He kissed me, and I felt the warm sun beating down on us. After his breathing had returned to normal and his skin was all warm and flushed, Brad said, “You know what I could really use right now?”

I rolled over to face him, waiting for his response.

“A shower,” he said, and his eyes glowed wickedly.

We headed back into the house together — ready for more encounters of the steamiest kind.

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