Late-Night Shower

It was nearly 2:00AM when I returned from the party, slightly drunk still but knowing that I definitely needed to shower before finally sliding into bed. I could still feel the dried seed of several frat boys upon my chest and stomach, which signaled why I needed the shower.

Yet, despite the sex that evening, I still felt horny. While I had thoroughly enjoyed having my body filled to the brim, while I had screamed merrily from the pain of having my hair pulled, while I had cried out loudly as I was roughly spanked before a large cheering audience, I yearned for something softer, something quieter.

The light was on in the dorm room, but my roommate was not to be seen. I did not think much about it as I gathered my things and headed toward the showers, but when I finally entered the shower area, I found my roommate, my sweet Justine.

She was soaking wet, having just finished her own shower. Her long thick purple-dyed hair was unmistakable, cascading down her back to just above her waist. As her eyes befell me, she stopped, and a knowing smile slowly spread across her lips.

"Number seven," she said softly, turning on her heels and retreating to the furthest shower stall.

I quickly undressed and took my small basket of shower supplies with me to the last stall of the row. By the time I arrived, Justine had already turned on the water, and before I could set my small basket upon the ledge, she was holding me, leaning into me, her wet hair and body feeling nice and sensual and soft and feminine after having been rutting with the guys on the other side of campus.

"How was the party?" Justine asked, honestly curious, her voice almost lost by the sound of the water falling from above. "Any gorgeous babes?"

"Plenty," I assured her. "You would've liked it, even though you don't drink. The music was good, and there were even two pairs of beautiful sorority girls enjoying a nice, long, sensual sixty-nine to the cheers of the guys."

I could feel my roommate's nipples hardening against me. "That sounds wonderful," she sighed, and I knew that she was imagining the scene.

"I certainly got my fill of the guys," I admitted, "but now I'd really like something softer, something more meaningful."

Underneath the warm spray, our lips met. It was a sweet moment, a soft, slow, understanding kiss, an expression of the respect and admiration and desire we held for each other.

"Let me wash you," Justine requested when we finally stepped slightly away. She took the small basket from me and set it on the ledge, then took her time washing me, taking particular care to ensure that all trace of male lust had been removed from my body. As had been the case since our first year of college, simply being in Justine's presence filled my heart, and having her take such gentle care of me filled my soul.

As the last of the suds cascaded down my skin, my longtime roommate slowly backed me against the wall of the shower stall, the tile cool against my backside. My whimper was lost in the sound of the falling water as she touched me, a hand upon my shoulder and a hand upon my breast. "Justine, please..." I whispered, almost certain that she had not heard my soft plea, but as fifth-year seniors, I knew that she knew what I wanted, what I needed...

She did know. She demonstrated her knowledge with her hands, with her lips, with her teeth, with her tongue. While I often enjoyed the carnal lust of the fraternity guys, it was Justine's gentle eroticism which made me feel truly complete, truly desired.

"Leg around me," I just barely heard above the sound of the falling water, and I obeyed, hooking a leg around Justine's waist. With her fingertips brushing against my sex, I felt nicely exposed, holding her to me as our lips met anew. A nipple trapped between her fingertips, I gave myself over to her, allowing my roommate to play my body like a cherished violin, and although I tried my best to be quiet, especially at such a late hour, I sang into her mouth, the song rising with crescendo and accelerando, performing for an audience of one, being dirty while engaged in becoming clean and feeling absolutely no shame in the pleasure I was receiving.

Both feet firmly back upon the wet floor, I leaned into her as she held me. "That was beautiful," she whispered into my ear as my lungs fought for air.

It was nearly 3:00AM when we returned to our dorm room. Fatigue was definitely taking its toll on me, and I could see that Justine was also about to succumb to sleep. After turning off the light, she slipped into bed beside me, instantly holding me close.

"These are the moments I enjoy most of all," I admitted, snuggling against my roommate.

"Same here," she agreed, and then consciousness receded into a shared dream.