She wants it doggystyle

Lauren turns her back on me and waggles her ass. She adjusts the showerhead, then grabs a low, wide stool (that I hadn’t noticed leaning against the shower wall; I’ve been focused on her) and sets it flat on the floor. It has large rubber feet, and the top is some sort of non-skid surface. She bends over and takes a double-handed grip on one of the grab bars, and light dawns. So that's why those bars are there, I think. She looks over her shoulder at me through the shower spray, which is falling on her lower back, and says, “That should do for the height difference. What are you waiting for, stud? Get that big cock over here and fuck me like a bitch in heat!”

If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up. I’m pretty sure from the feel of her on my fingers that her pussy is even tighter than the high school girls I’ve fucked; that’s hard to believe, but she must just have been naturally small. I walk up behind her and carefully line myself up, pleased to find that the stool has done its job perfectly. “Quit fucking around,” Lauren almost snarls, “and ram that big fuckpole in my cunt. I want you to pound me so deep with that monster that I can feel it in the back of my throat.”

Clearly, she’s not looking for gentle and romantic. I grab her hips and thrust as hard as I can, burying myself deep in her cock sleeve. She’s plenty wet enough, but there’s a fair bit of resistance. She throws her head back with a strangled gasp, and I hold myself there. “Ooooh, Chris,” she says, sounding a little dazed, “I might have been a little . . . overambitious. You’re bigger than I . . . quite realized. My husband’s cock is actually rather small; my other fuckbuddies have been bigger, but . . . not quite that big. Move in me, please, but go slowly at first.”

I do as she asks, and it’s not long before she’s telling me to go faster and fuck her harder. Once I have a bit of speed built up, Lauren says, “Pull my fucking hair. Pull my fucking hair and make me really howl.” I haven’t tried this before, but I’ve read about it. I take one hand off her hip and reach forward to grab her hair near the base of her skull. I lean back on it, pulling hard. Her head comes up and back and her spine bends in a taut curve—which changes the angle of her hips and realigns her pussy, and suddenly she opens up even more. I hammer her so deep, I bump her cervix; she gasps and makes mewling noises. I wonder if I should back off, but decide that if she wants me to, she’ll tell me. She doesn’t. When she can speak, she gasps, “Harder. Faster. Pound me with that fuckpole ’til I scream!”

With my hand leashed in Lauren’s hair, I don’t really need the one on her hip for balance, so I reach around and touch her clit. She howls, and I can feel her orgasm clamp down on my cock. I slow down, and she screams, “Don’t you dare stop, you fucker! You’re not done fucking me until I say you’re done!”

So, I cut loose. Pounding her pussy felt incredible before, but doing it when her already-tight cunt is in the throes of climax is indescribably good. Just as she’s coming off her orgasm, mine erupts. “I’m cumming!” I grunt, and then I blow.

“Fuck yeah, Chris!” Lauren pants. “Cum in me! Let me feel it! Spray my pussy—” With that, she erupts in another orgasm, and her voice rises to a wordless scream. This time I just stop, my prick as deep in her cunt as I can drive it; her second climax grabs me even tighter than her first, squeezing every last drop of cum out of my throbbing cock.

When I start to pull out, Lauren says, “No. I love the feeling of a cock shrinking out of my pussy. Stay put.” I do as she says. When I’ve deflated to the point that there’s nothing really holding me in, she stands up, turns to me, and gives me a kiss. “Thank you, Chris,” she says. Now”—she grabs the bottle of bodywash with a smirk—“we need to get you cleaned up.”