We were dirty and exhausted – covered in sand from spending the night at the beach and sweat from walking with heavy packs. We hadn’t gotten much sleep because we’d gone to bed late after hours of playing with each other’s bodies (then washing off in the ocean) and woken up at sunrise to fuck with the back of the tent open, letting the morning breeze and pale sunshine fill the tent. When we got back to my place, showering was paramount.
After giving each other a good scrub to get all the sand off, I hung up my washcloth and leaned my ass back toward him, clamping his cock between my legs. I shifted my legs a little bit side to side, feeling him harden between them, and started to say, “So I know we’ve just had sex, but –” “Yes,” he cut me off. I laughed and grabbed a condom from the shelf, then shut the swinging glass shower door behind me. Once I’d rolled it onto his now very erect cock, I faced away from him, putting one hand on the shower door and using the other to guide him into me. I stood on my tip toes, and he bent his knees a bit to make up for the height difference. He leaned back against my white tile shower wall while I leaned forward and pressed my forearms against the door, wiping the steam from the glass so we could watch ourselves fuck in the bathroom mirror in front of us. There’s something that’s incredibly arousing about making eye contact with someone who’s fucking me from behind – about watching my breasts bounce as he rhythmically rocks my hips back onto him. That being said, it’s also hard to get a grip on wet glass; I had him move against the wall to his left so I could hold onto my shower shelving and he could fuck me harder.
At one point, I looked at him over my right shoulder; seeing his long body leaning back against the wall, water glistening all over him, his right arm casually thrown over his head, his left hand on my ass, looking down at his cock as it slid in and out of me, sent a sudden electric shudder throughout my body. Breathing hard and finding it difficult to speak, I told him how hot he looked; he returned the compliment and took his free hand down from the wall to cup my breast and roll my nipple gently in his fingers. He later told me that he liked watching the way my back arched the closer I was to orgasm.
It got to the point that we were both so flushed with heat – it’s the middle of a humid Korean summer, and what was rolling down our bodies was no longer water but sweat – that we decided to rinse off with cold water and take it outside. Before leaving the shower I leaned up to kiss him, our exchanged breath coming hot and hard, our lips wet and full from the humidity.
“I’d be happy if more of my showers involved sex,” he told me. Sex like that? Me. Too.