Shower Secrets: Wet Submission (L)

The rain hammered against the bathroom window, a relentless rhythm accompanying the insistent drip from the showerhead. The scent of pine-scented soap hung heavy in the air, mingling with the anticipation that thrummed beneath my skin. I’d been indulging in a long, hot shower, letting the water wash away the day’s stresses, when I heard the familiar scrape of the bathroom door opening. It was him. My master.

My pulse quickened, a silent invitation to the pleasure that awaited. As he stepped into the room, the steam swirling around his muscular frame, a slow smile spread across my lips. He was shirtless, his broad chest glistening with droplets of water, a raw display of power and dominance. His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto mine, sending a shiver down my spine. The desire, raw and primal, surged through me, a potent cocktail of submission and anticipation.

“Enjoying your bath, little one?” His voice, a low rumble, vibrated through the small space, further igniting the heat within me. I didn’t bother answering, my gaze never leaving his. My fingers began to dance, tracing the contours of my own body, teasing the sensitive skin between my legs, pulling my thong lower, exposing more of my eager flesh. It was a silent communication, a blatant invitation to the game we both loved so much.

He chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that sent a wave of pleasure washing over me. “You’re quite the tease,” he murmured, stepping closer, his presence filling the room. He reached out, his hand hovering just above my wet skin, a tantalizing brush of fingertips against my inner thigh. It was an act of ownership, a declaration of his control, and I reveled in it. The anticipation built, a crescendo of longing that threatened to consume me.

My body responded instinctively, my hips arching slightly as he continued his advance. The water still trickled down my back, a constant reminder of my vulnerability, yet it only served to heighten the pleasure. I could feel his heat radiating against my skin, his breath warm against my neck as he leaned closer, whispering words of dominance and control.

“Let me see you really enjoy yourself, little wench,” he purred, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. It was a challenge, an invitation to fully embrace my role, and I readily accepted. My fingers continued their frantic dance, working their way up my shaft, teasing the sensitive nerve endings. The pleasure intensified, a wave of pure, unadulterated sensation that threatened to overwhelm me.

He responded to my movements, his hand finding its way to my clitoris, his thumb gently stroking the sensitive flesh. The pressure increased, escalating the pleasure, pushing me closer to the brink. I moaned, a low, guttural sound of pure ecstasy, lost in the exquisite torment. My body writhed, begging for release, while he maintained his control, savoring every moment of my submission.

As my body reached its peak, he pulled back slightly, allowing me a brief moment of respite before plunging back in. The sensation was overwhelming, a torrent of pleasure that left me gasping for air. He held me captive, his weight pressing down on me, a constant reminder of his dominance. The water continued to cascade down my body, a cool contrast to the burning sensation within me.

“You’re good, little wench,” he whispered, his voice a low growl of satisfaction. “Very good indeed.” His hand moved further down, exploring the depths of my pussy, his touch firm and deliberate. The pleasure intensified, pushing me past the point of no return.

I cried out, a desperate plea for release, but he only tightened his grip, savoring the moment. As my climax hit, a wave of intense pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and breathless. I clung to him, seeking solace in his arms, allowing him to control every inch of my body.

He continued to explore, his hand moving rhythmically, teasing my clitoris once again. The pleasure was overwhelming, leaving me breathless and weak. As he withdrew, he leaned in close, whispering in my ear, “You’re a pleasure to possess, little wench.”

He lifted me from the floor, carrying me towards the bed. The sheets were cool against my skin, a welcome relief from the heat of our encounter. He placed me gently on the bed, pulling the covers up to my chest, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.

“Now, let’s see what else you have to offer,” he said, a predatory glint in his eyes. As he slid into me, the pleasure returned, even more intense than before. We continued our passionate encounter, lost in a world of lust and desire, until our bodies grew weak with exhaustion.

As we lay entangled in the sheets, the rain continued to fall outside, a soothing soundtrack to our shared pleasure. The scent of pine-scented soap still lingered in the air, a reminder of our recent encounter. I looked up at him, my eyes filled with adoration, and whispered, “You own me completely, master.”

He smiled, a slow, seductive expression that sent shivers down my spine. “Indeed, little wench,” he replied. “You are entirely mine.” And as he pulled me closer, whispering sweet nothings in my ear, I knew that I was exactly where I was meant to be, lost in the intoxicating pleasure of his possession.

Sex stories

Shower Secrets: Wet Submission (L)

Did you like this story? Shower Secrets: Wet Submission (L) look, but like these, here Sex stories.