The silken robe slipped off her creamy shoulders as the dial for the shower was turned on, jets of water raining from the shower head and hitting the tiles below, saturating them. She closed the shower door and let the water run for a moment as she piled her curls on top of her head and removed the last of the night’s makeup, though she was kidding herself if she thought her lipstick would fully remove itself. If there was one thing on God’s beautiful earth that would not budge; it was red liquid lipstick.
Expensive gold earrings were pulled from her earlobes and placed on the small china plate she kept on the vanity, where her other disused jewellery was housed; the appurtenances and trappings of an extravagant budget displayed for all to see, anytime someone used the bathroom.
Warm steam wafted out and caressed her skin; reminding her of the water she was wasting while she admired herself in the mirror. She kicked her robe out of the way, with its oriental pattern and green bamboo shoots contrasting against the red of the material, opened the glass shower door, and stepped in.
The water was luxurious and sensually warm, as it dripped down her body, rivulets of water cascading over her breasts and falling off her firm nipples. She picked up the bar of soap from the shelf in the shower corner and soaped up her hands, ready to wash away the stress of the day, and the horniness of the night. Sudsy hands ran over long limbs, leaving trails of sweet-scented soap. She slid her hands over her smooth belly and then stepped back under the direct spray of the showerhead, washing herself clean, the vague smell of her perfume lingering on her skin, and then mixing in with the soap and washing away, swirling and then falling down the drain with the rest of soapy suds.
She soaped her hands up a second time and delved lower than her belly, running her fingers along her pussy, opening herself up. She probed at her hole and heard with a splat the remnants of the cum of the three men she had fucked that night. She watched as slowly the water lapped at the cum puddle, the white, gooey mess eventually ebbing away and mixing in with the soapy water completely, swirling, and then falling down the drain.
She cupped her hands under the shower head and allowed the water to rinse her hands off completely, before diving back down below to slip a finger into her hole and finger fuck her well-used pussy, the images from the sex club playing in her mind.
She hadn’t caught the names of any of the men she’d let fuck her. In truth, she didn’t care. Identities of the men were of little matter and contrary to her cause. She’d simply walked in, ordered a drink, removed her wedding ring and sat down in a booth. Within two minutes she was playing tonsil hockey with a young Spaniard.
Her finger rubbed her g-spot, as she remembered how gloriously thick the cock was, that belonged to the Spaniard. Uncircumcised, the thick foreskin rolling over the head and then exposing it again as she stroked it to life, getting him ready to fuck. He was five inches long, but he was a meaty boy. So thick that when she wrapped her hand around it, her fingers only just touched. He scooted in awkwardly beside her, unzipped his jeans and pushed them down. She sat up slightly to accommodate his body and then sat down on his lap, facing away from him. The half-moon of the table that was attached to the booth pushed uncomfortably into her midriff, but this was soon forgotten as the Spaniard pushed the thick beast into her waiting pussy and fucked her for all he had.
He hadn’t lasted long; that was what had annoyed her, but whilst they were fucking only a few feet away from the dance floor, they had attracted a crowd. The Spaniard’s cock fell away from her pussy with a thick, wet plop, hitting his belly. He tucked it back into his boxer briefs, zipped himself back up and slipped out of the booth, walking happily away.
Without so much as a glance, a second man scooted in, taking the vacant spot in the booth. He was already unzipped and out by the time he was sitting down and she lowered herself onto him. His cock, she remembered, as she rubbed her sodden pussy, had been long and thin. Several times she’d had to ask him to ease up on the depth. He had big balls; she had fondled and tugged on them as they fucked.
From the other side of the booth, the man who would eventually become the third punter, squeezed himself into the space, flopped his cock out and directed her head towards his crotch; his cock hard and ready to go.
A hand on the back of her head, he moved her face back and forth, copious amounts of saliva coating his prick. She’d had an orgasm while deepthroating one cock, the other buried inside her.