Cousin Christine's Shower Surprise

You are my beautiful cousin Christine long blonde hair pretty face slim with a toned build and nice big perky breasts that sit high on your chest and you come over to spend the week at my house but my mother forgot to tell me you were coming so by the time you got there you had to use the bathroom really bad and didn't think to knock as I was just stepping in the shower you barge in to use the toilet

The bathroom was still steamy from my shower when I heard the door slam open. I barely had time to react before Christine stumbled in, her long blonde hair slightly tangled from the trip, her cheeks flushed with urgency. “Oh fuck—sorry, I *really* gotta go!” she gasped, her voice strained, as she shoved down her shorts and practically fell onto the toilet. I was frozen, one hand still gripping the shower curtain, the other instinctively covering myself—not that it mattered. She was already there, her toned thighs spread, the sound of her piss hitting the water loud and unapologetic. Her bare tits bounced slightly as she exhaled in relief, those perky nipples stiff from the cool air. She finally looked up at me, her blue eyes flicking down my body before biting her lip. “Guess we’re past knocking, huh?” I didn’t answer. The sight of her there—naked, shameless—made my mouth go dry. The shower water ran cold, but I didn’t move. Didn’t *want* to. She smirked. “You gonna just stand there naked staring at me?, aren't you getting in the shower?”

After finishing going to the bathroom she wipes then pulled up her shorts and straightens her top then flushes the toilet and looks me over one more time and winks then she casually walks out of the bathroom and closes the door

After finishing, Christine grabbed some toilet paper and wiped herself with quick efficiency before standing up and pulling her shorts back over those toned hips. She adjusted her top, the fabric barely containing the firm swell of her tits as she smoothed it down. The toilet flushed behind her with a loud rush, and she turned back toward me—her gaze deliberate, lingering on my half-hard cock before flicking up to meet my eyes. One slow, knowing wink. Then she sauntered out, her bare feet slapping softly against the tile. The door clicked shut, but the heat of her presence stayed, thick in the steamy air. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. The water was still running, lukewarm now, but I barely noticed. My pulse hammered as I glanced down—my body had reacted *hard*, my cock stiffening further just from that look alone. I could still smell her—clean sweat, something sweet beneath it. The shower suddenly felt too small. Too quiet. Outside, her footsteps faded down the hall. But the image of her spread on the toilet, those perfect tits bouncing, stayed burned behind my eyelids every time I blinked. I turned the water cold. It didn’t help.

I was so turned on by that time I decided to have a masturbation session in the shower and right when I was ready to finish the door swings open once more my cousin Christine wearing nothing but a towel comes closer to the shower looks me over and even though she knew what I was doing she had to ask anyway so what are you doing she said I couldn't seem to spit any words out as she drops her towel and climbs in the shower with me telling me she was all sweaty from the trip over

I didn’t even try to hide it—my fist was moving fast, slick with water and pre-cum as I stroked myself under the spray. The memory of Christine’s smirk, the way her thighs spread so shamelessly, had me teetering on the edge. Then the door banged open again. She stood there wearing only a towel already slipping from her shoulders, revealing flushed skin and those perfect pink nipples. Her eyes dropped to my cock, then back up to my face. "So. What are you doing?" My mouth opened—nothing came out. Her lips curved as the towel hit the floor. "Scoot over." She stepped in, steam curling around her as she pressed against me, her skin hot, sweat still glistening on her collarbones from the drive. The water sluiced over her tits, her stomach, her thighs—every inch of her slick and unavoidable "Looking good cuz, Guess I’m not the only one who needed relief," she grabs the soap and starts lathering her most sensitive areas then using her fingers starts to pleasure herself

The water traced the curve of her waist as she worked the soap between her thighs, her fingers sliding with practiced ease. My cock twitched against my stomach—no point pretending now. She smirked, watching me watch her, the steam making her skin glow as she arched into her own touch. "Need a hand?" Her voice was low, teasing. Without waiting, she reached out and wrapped her slick fingers around me, her grip firm. The contrast—hot water, her colder hands—made my hips jerk. She pushed me back against the tile, her other hand still busy between her legs. "Fuck, look at you," she muttered, thumb dragging over my leaking tip. Her breath hitched as her own fingers sped up, the scent of soap mingling with something muskier under the spray. I grabbed her hip, pulling her closer. Her thigh brushed against me, wet and warm. "Turn around," I growled. She laughed but obeyed, pressing her back to my chest as she reached behind to guide me. The second I slid into her, she gasped—tight, so fucking tight—and her head fell back against my shoulder. Water cascaded over us as she rocked, her ass grinding against me with every thrust.

The water pounded against our tangled bodies as I buried myself deeper, her wet heat clenching around me with every movement. Christine’s breath came in ragged gasps, her fingers digging into my thigh as she rolled her hips, taking me in harder. "Fuck, yeah—just like that," she moaned, arching back against me. Her tits bounced with each thrust, water sluicing over the peaked nipples. I reached around, dragging my palm over one, pinching just to hear her cry out. She twisted her head, lips finding mine in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. The soapy slide of her ass against my stomach, the tight clutch of her cunt—every sensation blurred into raw need. Her hand flew back, gripping my hip hard enough to bruise. "Don’t stop," she panted. "I’m so close—" I fucked her faster, water splashing around us, the sound of skin slapping skin lost in the steam. She shuddered, her whole body tensing as she came with a choked scream, her walls fluttering around me. The rhythm stuttered—then I was right behind her, spilling deep as she milked every last drop. For a second, all we could hear was the shower and our own harsh breathing. Then Christine smirked over her shoulder. "Guess we both got what we needed."