Page 536 of Devil’s Disciples

I grabbed a handful of towels and carried them to where she was standing. After handing her one, I folded the rest and took them to the bathroom. While I was putting them away, I realized my woman was naked in the shower.

I watched her distorted silhouette through the privacy glass for a moment. A sensual show to say the least, watching her cover herself with lather was as erotic as anything I’d ever seen.

While she shampooed her hair, my cock grew so stiff I couldn’t help but take off my jeans. In a moment I was completely naked, watching her rinse herself clean.

I opened the shower door a few inches and peered inside. “Have room for one more?”

She glanced over each shoulder. “It’s small, but I think we can make it work.”

I got inside. My mere presence forced her against the far wall of the three-foot by three-foot enclosure.

I was pressed to the door, our bodies were touching, and she was smashed against the wall.

She chuckled. “Maybe I should get out and let you have it.”

“Maybe you should bend over and let me have it.”

“I can’t bend over in here,” she complained. “There’s not enough room.”

She was right. There wasn’t.

“My cock is as hard as a rock,” I said. “This is ridiculous.”

She glanced at it, and then looked me in the eyes. “I want it.”

I laughed at the thought. “There’s not enough room.”

She glanced around as if to see if there was something she could change. After a quick survey, her eyes met mine. “This is dumb.”

Frustrated, I quickly lathered up, getting her covered in soap in the process. Then, we rinsed as one. I slung the door open and stepped out.

“Stay in here,” I said.

I positioned myself in the center of the doorway with my cock in my hand. “Back that fine little ass of yours up to the doorway.”

She grinned and did as I asked, backing her sweet little pussy up to the shower’s door opening.

I guided myself between her legs. As the head pressed against her wet lips, I paused. “Brace yourself.”

With the water cascading along her back, she pressed her hands against the far wall. “Bring it.”

I gripped her hips in my hands and began to fuck her like I was angry—because I was. Not with her, but with my situation. A home with no garage, only one bathroom, and a shower I couldn’t fuck in. A kitchen with two broken cabinet doors, a water heater that leaked, and an air-conditioning system that worked—unless it was hot outside.

I pounded myself in and out of her tight little pussy without mercy, taking my life’s frustrations out on her, one thrust at a time.

“Fuck yes,” I howled. “I love this little pussy of yours. Shower sex is the shit!”

Lost in the myriad of possibilities of what I could do with my two upcoming paychecks, I buried myself into her balls-deep one stroke after the other with such force that I drove her against the shower wall each time I pounded myself into her.

Water sprayed in every direction. With the door wide open, and the water going at full blast, it had her, me, and the bathroom floor covered, completely.

“I’m going to cover you in cum,” I warned. “And you’re going to have to take another shower just to wash it off, you sexy little fucker.”

“Please do,” she breathed.

As the water splashed against everything I owned, I closed my eyes and imagined we were in a shower large enough to fuck in. That I wasn’t standing on the bathroom floor, and she wasn’t standing with one foot in and one foot out of the smallest shower stall in San Diego County.

I pounded away like a man possessed, banging my balls against her clit with every “in” stroke. Then, just as I sensed my balls beginning to unleash the mayhem, my right foot slipped on the wet floor.