Chapter 1: Caught in the Mist
Brad hadn’t meant to intrude. The bathroom door was ajar, steam curling out like a seductive whisper, and the sound of water cascading was a siren’s call he couldn’t resist. He’d only meant to ask Tara if she needed anything from the store, but what he found stopped him dead in his tracks. Through the fogged-up glass of the shower, he saw her—Tara, his fiercely independent roommate, leaning against the tiled wall, one hand gripping the showerhead, directing its pulsing jets between her thighs. Her head was thrown back, lips parted in a silent moan, her body trembling with raw, unfiltered pleasure.
“Fuck,” Brad muttered under his breath, his throat dry as desert sand. He should’ve turned away, should’ve respected her privacy, but his feet were glued to the floor, his eyes locked on the vision before him. Tara’s curves were slick with water, her skin glistening under the bathroom lights, and the way her hips rocked against the stream was pure, unadulterated sin.
Her eyes snapped open, catching his gaze through the haze. Instead of shrieking or covering up, a wicked smirk curled her lips. “Well, damn, Brad,” she purred, her voice cutting through the steam like a blade, sharp and unapologetic. “Didn’t peg you for a peeping Tom. Enjoying the show?”
Brad’s face burned, but he couldn’t look away. “I—I didn’t mean to—” he stammered, but she cut him off with a laugh, low and throaty.
“Don’t play coy now. You’re here, might as well stay. Watch me,” she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument. She adjusted the showerhead, the water hitting her just right, and a gasp escaped her lips. “Go on, don’t just stand there like a statue. Take that cock out and stroke it. I wanna see you lose it while I do.”
His breath hitched, a jolt of heat shooting straight to his groin. Tara wasn’t asking—she was demanding, and fuck if that didn’t make him harder than he’d ever been. “You’re insane,” he shot back, but his hands were already fumbling with his belt, the clink of metal echoing in the humid air. “You always this bossy?”
“Only when I’m horny as hell,” she retorted, her eyes glinting with mischief. “And right now, I’m dripping wet in more ways than one. So, hurry the fuck up.”
Brad’s jeans hit the floor, and he gripped himself, his cock already throbbing in his hand. Tara’s gaze dropped to it, and she licked her lips, a predator sizing up her prey. “Not bad,” she teased, her voice dripping with mock approval. “Now jerk it like you mean it. Match my pace.”
The water pounded against her, and she moaned, her free hand sliding up to pinch her nipple, her body arching into the sensation. Brad groaned, his hand moving faster, the sight of her unraveling pushing him to the edge. “You’re gonna make me lose it too damn quick,” he growled, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool air outside the shower.
“Good,” she shot back, panting now, her voice ragged. “I’m close, Brad. So fucking close. I want you to cum with me. Don’t you dare hold back.”
Her words were a trigger, the tension coiling tighter in his core. Tara’s moans grew louder, her body shuddering as she chased her release, the showerhead relentless against her pussy. Brad’s grip tightened, his strokes desperate, the heat of her gaze and the sound of her pleasure driving him wild. They were both sweating, both panting, teetering on the brink of something explosive—and as Tara’s cry of ecstasy echoed off the tiles, Brad knew he was done for.
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