She woke groggy.
She’d had too much to drink last night, to be sure. Dreamt of sex, intense and brutal, and woke up wet, throbbing, and wanton. In other words, her typical Friday night.
Vague wisps of dreams slid through her memory. Strange things. But mostly? Penises. Big ones. Small ones. Fat ones. Thin ones. Everything had a penis. She yawned, widely, stretched, and rolled over. Didn’t need to be up just yet.
She awoke in the shower.
She felt the turgid heat wrap around her. Waves of steam billowed up around her, yet the water was perfect. She didn’t have a steam shower. Did she? The shower curtain slapped her thigh. Damn, she hated when that fucking thing moved in the blowback from the shower’s spray. It meant she’d need to get down and wipe up the overspill from the bathroom floor if she didn’t want a leak through her kitchen ceiling.
The water was soothing, the steam was blinding. She shut her eyes and relaxed into the feeling of being cocooned by wet warmth.
Something poked her hip, something slapped against her side. Fucking A! Shower curtain, flapping, getting water all over her floor. She tried to press it back, tried to disentangle herself.
Yet it stuck.
She pressed harder, attempting to stir from the lethargy of the wet heat surrounding her. Each breath was soggy with steam. It didn’t seem to matter, anyway. It was wet. She was wet. Whatever.
Poke. Poke. Poke.
There was that prodding again. It moved from her hip to her lower back. Painful pokes. Like a finger jabbing her.
At the top of her ass crack, another hard poke, then the slide as it followed that valley, down and around the curve of her body. She didn’t fight it. The air was too moist. The shower curtain enveloped her body. She was lax, wet, languid.
The poke became a prod. She felt herself bending, her head engulfed in the warm downspray from the showerhead as her back flattened, exposing her ass, opening her cleft.
One part of her mind was alarmed, but the lethargy that suffused her put that voice to sleep. She felt the press against her asshole. She moaned, her breath stirring the mists swirling around her. The press was insistent, demanding. The tight swirl of her bottom began to yield to the hard invader. She moaned again, hating/loving/hating the feel of something forcing it’s way up inside her vulnerable bottom.
It was big. It was long. It was hot.
It shoved inside her, as bottom up, her body accepted. She had no choice, really. She stood, folded over, water dripping from her hair, blinding her, as it, whatever it was, began to withdraw from her butthole.
It slid back inside her ass with less resistance the second time. She rocked gently with the thrusting. Her hands held her knees, her body wrapped with the sticking shower curtain, the shower streaming over her head, deafening her ears, blinding her with cascades of hot water as her ass was fucked.
Hard and deep, just the way she liked.
The wave of orgasm slid through her, drawing her nipples tight. Her mouth opened in a soundless O of shock as the explosion shook her. Her juices slid from her pussy, streaming down her legs with the moisture from the shower.
Again the hard thrusting in her anus made her quiver through an orgasm. She rose and crested like the sea, waves of sensation coiling through her. She could no more stop her reactions than she could stop the tides. Her nipples pinched hard and tight, her ass ached with the persistent thrusts, her clit throbbed as waves of pleasure peaked through her.
Too much. It was too much to bear. Too much sensation.
A hard orgasm tore through her, her entire body stiffening in reaction.
She blacked out.
She woke in her bed, yawning and stretching.
Her pussy throbbed, and her exploring fingers found wetness. She rubbed her clit briefly, before rolling upright.
“Shower,” she mumbled. She needed a shower to clear her brainfog. So many strange dreams last night. Fucking absinthe. Rising, she stumbled to the bathroom.
The shower curtain billowed gently, as she stepped into a puddle.
~ fini ~
This is the picture that I sent to Master that inspired this sordid little tale. I sent Him this picture recently and His only comment was “nice shower curtain”…and a tale was born…He decided to order me to write a story about a shower curtain with a cock.