Rock All Night

55




We walked through the concrete maze until we came to a security guard standing outside a door. Derek nodded a greeting, then led me past him and into the showers. It wasn’t nearly as impressive as the Lakers’ locker room, but it was set up the same as the Staples Center, with a pile of towels, jeans, shirt, sunglasses, boxers, boots, flip-flops, and shaving kit on a bench.

“Are you sure you want company?” I teased him as the door closed behind us.

“Oh, I’m sure I want company,” he said as he roughly pulled my sundress straps off my shoulders and began to kiss my bare breasts.

“Wait – no – agh!” I giggled as I suddenly found myself without a stitch of clothing on.

A few seconds later, he was stripped naked, too, and he led me by the hand into a room of sparkling white tile. One by one he turned on the shower heads until the entire room was filled with steam. Delightfully hot water washed over both of us as he took me in his arms and kissed me hard and rough.

I moaned, feeling his slick, wet body against mine and his cock – thick and heavy, but not yet hard – sliding against my thigh.

He pulled out a bar of soap from the shaving kit and began to work it between his hands, building up a rich lather. He stepped behind me and began to nibble at my neck and ear as he ran his massive hands up and down my front, covering me in suds, cupping my breasts, sliding his soapy hands under them, over them, pausing every so often to tweak my hardening nipples between his slippery fingers.

I moaned as he breathed hard in my ear and let his hands slide lower, down below my waist. His fingers soaped up my little landing strip of hair, running through the curls… then probed lower still until his slippery fingers were toying with my p-ssy.

I gasped as his fingers pressed hard against my lips, then slipped over my *, then back again, in that way that only soapy flesh on flesh can do.

And all the while I could feel his cock pressing against my ass, hard and rigid, sliding against my wet skin.

God, I wanted it so bad.

I turned around and kissed him – and let my hand find his cock. As the hot water sprayed down on us, I ran my fingers in a ring around that gorgeous thickness – up and down, slipping and sliding across the taut skin of his shaft.

Meanwhile his soapy hands had found my ass and were kneading and clutching at my cheeks, with one naughty finger occasionally slipping into my crack and caressing places I wouldn’t want to admit to.

And I liked it.

I ran my fingers under his balls, cupping him, tickling him between his legs, then moving up and stroking him again. I could feel his heartbeat pulsing under my fingers as I gripped him lightly, slowly massaging him.

And then he totally made my college fantasy of him ravaging me in the shower come true.

He pressed against me, forcing my back up against the tile – now warm from the hot water – and positioned his rock hard cock against my *. Slowly he worked it up and down, slipping and sliding back and forth over the little nub, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my legs.

I moaned into his mouth as his tongue roughly played with mine.

Then he flipped me around so that my face was pressed against the warm, wet tile. He grabbed my hair at the nape of my neck and pulled back, making me feel deliciously feminine and completely at his mercy.


With his other hand he pulled my ass away from the wall and pushed against my inner legs until I opened them wider. Within seconds I felt the swollen head of his cock slide between my thighs and began to push against my lips.

“Condom!” I gasped.

He moved up right against my ear and growled seductively. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” I whispered, barely able to speak, much less think. How could I, with all that glorious teasing – the bulbous tip pushing against my p-ssy, almost sliding inside me, but not quite entering?

He sighed as though greatly put-upon… and then all the pleasure between my legs disappeared, as did the lovely, soapy sliding of his arms and chest and skin against my back. I heard his feet pad wetly over the tile… a few moments of rummaging in the next room… and then the soft rrrrrip of paper just a few feet away.

I turned around and watched, entranced, as he positioned the latex circle over the pink head and then slowly rolled it down, down, down his erection, until the entire, glorious length of his cock was sheathed.

“I didn’t say you could turn around,” he growled, and lightly pushed me back against the wall, my face pressed against the tile again.

One of his hands grasped my hip as the other hand positioned his cock. Even though I couldn’t see him, I knew what he was doing because I felt his knuckles brush my ass – and then I felt pressure pushing at my lips, parting them, easing in between them. I gasped and cried out all at once as that knee-buckling thickness entered me, slowly but constantly, inch by inch, never pausing, until he had filled me up completely and I felt his thighs against my ass and his cock deep, deep inside me.

I moaned and braced myself against the tiles as his hands circled around my body and found my soapy breasts, fondled them, stroked them as he rocked in and out of me, filling me, the walls of my p-ssy sliding around his cock like a velvet glove. A very wet velvet glove, because I was dripping with desire, even wetter than the water from the showers as it beat down on my skin, tickled my face, wrapped me in warmth as an even greater hotness built between my thighs.

He began to thrust harder, deeper. I could feel the insane pleasure of his tip sliding over my g-spot, massaging it with every slippery push as his cock slid deep inside me… then almost entirely out, leaving only the head inside… and then rocking inside me again, deep, hard, thick.

His hands trailed down from my breasts until they found my crotch. He began to toy with my * again, circling it, stroking it, soaping it, the tip of his finger sliding over it – all as he moved within me, his thickness sliding deep inside me, and outside his soapy skin slipping over mine.

I could feel the heat building and building, the honey-sweet pleasure between my thighs getting hotter and bigger, higher and brighter, out of my control. He rammed and slammed inside me and his soapy-slick fingers slid across my *, over and over, back and forth, in delicious waves of pleasure that exploded both inside me and out, bringing me up so high so fast that I was screaming before I knew it, the shower water cascading down my face and over my open mouth, my cries echoing off the tile as I struggled to keep myself upright beneath the delirious weight of my orgasm. Somewhere on the hazy outskirts of my consciousness I felt his pelvis slapping against my ass, the vibrations jiggling me deep inside, and then he was yelling, too, bellowing like some wild animal in heat as his hand grasped hard over my pulsing * and his cock swelled and burst inside me. Then he was slowing down, slower, then stopped. Both our arms were braced against the wall, our fingers splayed out over the tile as the water rushed over us like a waterfall.

After a few seconds I felt his hands against my chest, lifting me up, supporting me, pressing my slippery back against his muscular chest. He used one hand to softly turn my face to the side, and then he arched his head over my shoulder. My eyes stayed closed to the water pouring down over us, but I felt everything, from his cock still hard and deep inside me, to every sensual sliding of skin as our bodies pressed tight against each other.

Then our mouths met softly, sensually under the hot spray of water, and he kissed me for a long, long time.