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Whatcha Doing in There?
By
oceanrunner

Whatcha Doing in There?

A soapy shower surprise

I didn’t think I’d made any particular sound of pleasure when I stepped into the shower, but clearly I had. My shoulders felt knotted and stiff, as much from yesterday’s workout as from the time of day. I let the water sluice the sleep from my eyes; it was perfect.

“Whatcha doing in there?” Becky’s voice surprised me, only a few feet away. I hadn’t heard her come into the bathroom.

Not fully awake, I didn’t realize what she was getting at. “Huh?”

“I came in to see if I could catch you having a little fun.”

A teacher, Becky went to work before I did. She’d showered while I snoozed and was already dressed for the day. She was looking at me up and down through the open shower curtain, with special attention for my penis, still thick and heavy from the morning erection I still woke up with in my thirties.

I felt a small sense of indignant embarrassment. I hadn’t been masturbating. Yet, I admitted to myself. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

She looked good. As always, her outfit told me about the weather and what kind of day she had ahead of her. In a long-sleeved wrap dress and high boots, she was dressed fairly warmly for late April, so I knew it would be chilly. It was a dress that she sometimes wore without a camisole, but today she had a black one with a lacy, beaded top. Maybe a parent meeting. Her hair showed extra effort; she’d used the curling iron on the ends. Her eyes sparkled. “Then what was all that moaning about?”

“What moaning?” Had I really been moaning at how good the water felt?

“You were moaning, sir. I thought I’d find you in here, uh, ‘abusing’ yourself, and I wanted to watch.” She gave me an exaggerated wink.

“I’m sorry to disappoint,” I repeated, surprised at her unaccustomed boldness.

We’d been married for six years, but we still maintained a fairly high level of bathroom privacy. I grabbed the soap, expecting her to leave. She didn’t.

I looked at her, asking the question without words. What are you still doing here?

She was still standing in the same place, about a yard away from the edge of the tub, staring at me. Unexpectedly, I felt a strange sense of being on display. Her tongue touched her lips, but I didn’t think she was aware of it. “I don’t have to stay disappointed,” she said with a glint in her eye.

I grinned; this was more like it. A pleasant surprise, as she wasn’t usually a morning sex person, at least not on work days. I pulled the curtain completely aside. “Strip down and join me then.”

She didn’t move, just shook her head. “I’ll be late, and I have a meeting with the principal first thing. But you could, you know, give me a little show.”

“What do you... a show?” My face suddenly felt red.

“You know what. You could do what you usually do in the shower. But I’d watch.”

So she knew about my morning routine. I felt a strange sort of relief to know she knew. I hadn’t hidden it exactly, but I also hadn’t felt a need to announce to her that I jerked off in the shower most days. I didn’t want her to feel it as an accusation of frustration on my part, which it wasn’t. It was a just a fun habit I’d maintained from my teen years. My cock swelled at the idea that she knew. Knew and liked it.

“See?” she asked, her eyes on my stiffening cock. “I think he’s up for it. Put your hand on it. Stroke for me.”

Her words broke my paralysis. It was easier to do what she said once she had said it. I grasped my growing erection, which slid smoothly under my soap-slick hand.

I watched her as I stroked my cock with slow, deliberate movements. Her breathing was faster. I heard her murmur, “God, that’s so hot.”

It was a virtuous cycle of arousal. Knowing she was turned on by watching excited me beyond any mere solo masturbation session. By now I was fully hard, stroking my cock as the water washed down my shoulders and chest. This time, when I let out a moan, I was aware of it.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” she whispered, her eyes going back and forth between my face and my soapy erection.

I opened my mouth but didn’t know what to say. I was thinking about her, but I wasn’t the wordsmith she was. I was a math guy; she was the literature major turned English teacher.

And then she proved that married people can still surprise each other. Her voice was excited when she said, “Or maybe I can try to guess... Are you maybe thinking about Emily next door when she lies out in the sun in one of her tiny little bikinis?”

My heart stopped in surprise and guilt. I’d had fantasies about Emily but had never told Becky. Emily was our next-door neighbors’ college-age daughter. She was taking a gap year and spent any day when the mercury hit 70 sunning herself next door in two-pieces that were eye-poppingly skimpy. She had a Kate Upton-esque figure that would probably run to heavy as she got older, but which was ripe and perfect right now.

Becky went on, “She says, ‘Oh, Mr. Slater, can you help me with my back? There’s a spot I can’t reach.’” She was doing a strikingly good imitation of Emily’s slightly ditzy tones.

“And then you rub her lotion on her back, and her eighteen-year-old skin feels so good under your hands. She unties her top as she’s lying there on her tummy. And while you rub the lotion onto her, your cock keeps getting harder and harder. Mmm...”

It was hard to believe how out-of-character this was for Becky. My cock was so hard in my hand that it actually ached. And she wasn’t even close to done, her eyes glued to my erection as she kept talking.

“And then Mr. Pickles barks and surprises her, and she sits up. You see her big soft tits and her hard little nipples, and she sees your bulge in your shorts. ‘Mr. Slater, did I do that?’ and she reaches for your zipper. Before you know it she’s got your cock out and is sucking you right in her back yard, where anybody could see you. Her parents... Me... But you don’t care. You just want to feel her slutty little teenage mouth sucking the cum out of you until she swallows every drop... Did I guess right? Is that what you’re thinking about?”

“Jesus, Beck, it is now! Holy fuck! I can’t believe you’re--”

“Don’t come yet!” she warned, cutting me off.

I slowed down, wondering what else she had in mind. I still couldn’t believe what she was saying. Her face was flushed, and her breaths were coming faster and faster. She leaned back against the sink and hiked up her slip and dress, sliding her hand into her panties, a pair of ecru lace boyshorts that were her go-to for that dress.

“Or maybe you’re thinking about my mentee, Sarah.”

I could feel my cock throbbing in my fist as she spoke. Like most couples, I suppose we each assumed that the other had random fantasies about acquaintances or celebrities, but beyond a joking comment here and there, we’d never made it part of our sex life.

Sarah was a petite new English teacher in her mid-to-late twenties. With a tiny, dancer’s frame, she might have been mistaken for a student if it weren’t for her slightly affected, all-black wardrobe, a few steps more grown-up than that of most teenagers. She had lustrous black hair that she wore in a heavy braid. With a bit of a porcelain doll look to her, she was undeniably sexy. Emily and I were convinced that her longtime boyfriend Kyle was gay but hadn’t figured it out yet. She and Becky often went running after school.

“Do you know that most days she doesn’t wear underwear? She doesn’t like the panty lines. You’d like her tight little body. And I bet you’d really like how she shaves her pussy.” Becky’s hand was working furiously in her panties. I imagined that she had at least two fingers deep inside by now.

“Actually, I take it back,” she continued. “She doesn’t shave. She told me she waxes. She’s perfectly smooth. She started doing it for Kyle in grad school, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.”

“Big surprise,” I half-grunted, trying to imagine Sarah’s elfin frame in the tub with me while Becky watched us.

“But she likes how it looks and feels, so she keeps it up. Can you imagine those smooth little pussy lips stretched around your big cock? You’d split her in two. I bet she’d love it, feeling your cock nudge her bald slit open and push its way in, taking possession of her while she wraps her arms and legs around you. You could fuck her while you held her off the ground. I don’t think she even weighs a hundred pounds.”

I was at the point where my stroking had to slow down, or I’d come too fast. I wanted to hear where Becky took this, as opportunities like this didn’t come along too often. Or ever. My cock throbbed purple under the film of Dove soap I’d started to wash with. My erection was huge, angry, urgent.

Becky’s voice was starting to come in gasps that she had to work to smooth over. “And maybe I’m there too, and I tie her down to the bed for you. I whisper into her ear what you’re going to do to her. I tell her that I’m going to lube up your cock. She’s a little scared, because you’re so much bigger than Kyle, but she nods. She can’t see what I’m doing, but she can hear the squelching of my slick hand on your rock-hard dick. Then I spread her cheeks, presenting her to you. She can’t see whose fingers, but she feels one of us work lube into her asshole. Oh fuck!”

Sitting back on the vanity, she threw her head back and came hard, her fingers working industriously at her pussy. Her face flushed red, the color spreading across her collar bone as well. I released my cock, knowing she’d probably want to watch me come; I didn’t want her to miss it. My erection throbbed in time with my quickened pulse, as firm and unyielding as I remembered it from my teenage years.

“And... then... you...” She was recovering a little, and looking at me again. “...push your big... throbbing cock into her tiny virgin asshole, making her scream into the pillow as she gets used to the pain mixed with the pleasure. I’m holding her wrists down, watching her squirm. You push all the way into her. The muscles on her tight little body are all rigid until she learns to relax, learns to take my husband’s big cock in her ass, and I’m whispering in her ear how good it’s going to feel when you flood her with your cum. Oh, Jesus! Shit!”

She was close again, and I was at the point where I thought I might come without even touching myself. But Becky froze me with another sharp, “Don’t come yet!”

“Fuck, Beck, you’re killing me!” I grasped my cock but immediately had to still my hand. A stray thought could have made me come. Amazingly, I could see Becky’s nipples through the layers of her bra, camisole, and dress. She’s more turned on than I remember in months, if not years.

“Or maybe it’s just me,” she went on, watching how my cock pulsed in my fist. “But not just me. There’s two of me, identical. The other one is Becky Number Two, and she’s a much dirtier little slut than me. Number Two will do anything you can dream of. She’ll lick your hot cum out of my pussy and then slide up my body and push it into my mouth with her tongue, making me taste both of us on her lips.

“Then you tell us you want to see us sixty-nine, and she’ll teach me how to eat pussy. And I’m nervous, but she’s just me, so I know exactly what I like. Her... my pussy tastes so tangy and wet and good. We’ll roll around the bed, and you’ll lose track of who’s who. Which one of us is your real wife, and which one is the slutty copy. Then we both get on our knees in front of you and take turns sucking your cock, while the other one takes your balls in her mouth. We switch back and forth, each of us trying to take you deeper and impress you with who’s doing a better job. Then one of us stands up and kisses you while the other keeps sucking.

“The one who’s kissing you stops to whisper that you should come in the other one’s mouth and on her face, and by this time you really don’t know who’s who. And then I tell you that I’ll lick up whatever you get on her face...”

I couldn’t take any more. With barely a touch from my hand, my come erupted out of me, shooting in long arcs towards Becky. The first two spurts landed on her inner thighs, and the rest traced a path on the floor from the edge of the tub to the front of the vanity. My orgasm felt endless, hot, powerful. It unspooled out of me for what felt like forever, my knees shaking and threatening to betray me. Black dots danced in my vision; I felt light-headed.

My orgasm triggered hers; she screamed into her left fist as her right hand rubbed furiously under her panties. The alabaster skin above the lace edge of her camisole flushed even redder than before as the muscles in her neck briefly stood out in tight cords. She rode the crest of her orgasm as deftly as a surfer determined not to fall and end the ride too soon. Finally, she relaxed, spent.

When she met my gaze again, her face was red, but this time with embarrassment. The moment was over, and she was on the path back to normal. She even looked nervous, as if I might make fun of what had come over her, or find it unappealing, now that I had come.

“Jesus, honey, that was the most mindblowing thing I can remember in forever,” I told her, admiration and love in my tone.

She smiled, the relief evident on her face. A glance at her watch spurred her into quick action. “Fuck, I’m going to be late!”

She worked her underwear down her legs and dabbed at the come on her thighs, wiping it off. Her pussy looked wet and puffy. Raw, as if she’d been well fucked. She stood up, allowing her slip and dress to fall back into place. “I think I’m going to have to make like Sarah today, and go sans panties.”

Two quick steps closed the distance between us. She gave me a slow kiss, her tongue darting tenderly into my mouth. Reluctantly, she broke the kiss too soon. “We’ll do this right when I get home.”

I stood there, the water still coming down on me, slightly cooler now, and I wondered what the hell had just happened. But I didn’t ovethink. Instead, I grinned. It was going to be a good day.

 

 

 

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