Massage
“Hng…!”
A short moan slipped free.
I dropped into a crouch, bending at the waist, and hastily covered my sex with both hands. It was half reflexive—the same instinct that makes you clutch the place you’ve just been struck. What I did was a kind of defensive reflex as well.
Even I couldn’t tell what had just happened to me.
It took a long while to reconstruct the moment accurately. I pieced the sequence together in my head.
The instant the showerhead’s jet touched my genitals, a faint sting—no, too slight even to call a sting… yes, a strange sensation. A peculiar feeling that could only be described as lewd climbed the length of my spine.
At a completely unexpected moment. My thighs tingled as if they had begun to cramp, and I collapsed helplessly where I stood.
“……”
Once I understood the whole thing, I was left speechless.
The showerhead?
I had felt that from nothing more than a showerhead…?
Enough to make me drop without even trying to endure it?
That’s absurd.
It was the sort of thing that didn’t even draw a hollow laugh. No matter how sensitive the place was. Just because a stream of water had brushed me, my nipples stood stiff, my heart hammered, my thighs trembled… and it felt good.
The spot where I had landed on my backside throbbed dully, yet I couldn’t spare a thought for rubbing it. Every nerve was fixed on the showerhead lying overturned on the floor.
The flipped head sprayed water in every direction, filling the air with mist.
Gulp.
I swallowed hard without meaning to.
An impulsive craving rose inside me.
The desire to recreate that sensation just once more.
Thump. Thump…
Whether it was imagination or not, the heat climbing through me grew clearer by the second. Perhaps because my senses had sharpened, my heartbeat thundered so loudly it seemed to echo in both ears.
No.
A thin thread of reason screamed. Stop the foolish thoughts and just finish the shower.
As always, Eileen’s Intuition also cried danger. Do not chase lust any further. If you continue like this, it could truly become dangerous.
Don’t.
Don’t do it.
But the desperate cries were useless.
My body, starved for that fleeting pleasure, blankly seized the showerhead and, before I knew it, was guiding it between my legs.
Whoosh—
A stream cold enough to chill sprayed into every fold.
“Nngh…!”
An indescribable, strange sensation battered my soft pussy. The pressure was by no means gentle. I had always preferred the jet strong enough that I could feel each stream striking my skin, so now it felt as though thin, blunt rods were prodding me relentlessly.
“Hah, aah…♡”
A coquettish moan I could scarcely believe belonged to me leaked between my teeth.
The soft, fragile voice of cheap adult videos. Yet a voice that unmistakably stirred primal lust. And it was coming from my own mouth.
I had always known Eileen’s body was sensitive, but this was beyond reason. To feel so much from nothing more than shower pressure…
I have to… turn the water… off…♡
“Ah, auh, ah…”
Eileen’s gentle voice crumbled into something unbelievably soft and melting. It was the voice of a woman starving for sex. Because it had never been mine to begin with, the sound only felt more stimulating. The moans vibrating through bone reached me as a ticklish caress.
When I looked down I could see my nipples standing rigid. My clitoris, half freed from its hood, peeked out with a cute, insistent presence.
Every time the jet struck it, a current raced up my spine and arched my back. Ass thrust high, chest pushed forward, my waist bent like a drawn bow. Then, shoulders and legs trembling with shivers, I hunched again.
Stretching to the limit, then folding. As if seized by a fit, I repeated the two motions irregularly, over and over.
“Ahah…! Ahu, nngh, huwaat…. St-stop. I have to… stop…”
My vision blurred; everything seemed doubled. The pleasure was subtle rather than overwhelming, and that very subtlety left me more desperate, more restless. Accumulated need went unsatisfied, and a corner of my chest felt crushed and tight.
Whoosh—
The stream never ceased.
No matter how I strained and groaned, it continued—cruelly, mechanically.
Constant pressure, constant rhythm, tap-tap-tapping my pussy without pause.
That never-violent, gentle sensation turned my head thoroughly hazy. Completely undone, I let my mouth hang open, the tip of my tongue resting lightly on my front teeth, and drooled drop by drop onto the floor.
“Heuk…. Huut, huuung….”
Panting, moans, nasal whimpers. Something like hot vapor rose. Each time the cold jet struck my heated skin I imagined steam billowing. Because my sight was fogged, the shower stall itself seemed filled with mist.
Only then did I think to shut the water off. I reached out with difficulty, but every attempt failed. My thighs trembled so hard that even taking a single step forward was exhausting.
In truth, simply lifting the showerhead away from my pussy would have ended it… yet like a fool I kept stimulating myself while only pretending to reach for the faucet. I flailed my arms and legs pitifully, but there was no way I could touch the distant tap.
“Auh, nngh, euk…”
Or perhaps the effort was only for show. I didn’t want to take my hand away, yet I could tell myself I had tried—an act meant to soothe my conscience so I could sink into pleasure with the excuse that I “couldn’t help it.” That was all.
In the end I stretched my upper body toward the faucet and toppled face-first onto the bathroom floor.
“Ugut…♡”
My cheek smashed flat against the tiles. My full breasts squashed beneath me as well, crushed into a vulgar shape as though something had stepped on them.
I stayed prone, unable even to think of rising.
Ass raised high, I continued like an idiot to work the showerhead against my pussy.
Pleasure that had been stacking since before I entered the shower was now racing toward its peak. My pelvis trembled as if I would come at any second.
But one step short.
Just one step’s worth of stimulation was missing.
The showerhead gave more than enough to heighten the heat of my body, yet as a tool to push me over the edge it was frustratingly incomplete.
Desperate, I swayed my hips left and right, then began rubbing my nipples against the cold floor.
My crushed breasts smeared across the tiles, reshaping like elastic dough. Every time a stiff nipple scraped the chill surface, my small shoulders twitched pitifully.
“Haang, ah, haeuu…!”
My open mouth suddenly felt empty, so I brought one hand to my lips. I laid my fingers on the tip of my protruding tongue and sucked—chup, chup—and only then did a little calm return. As though I had spent the whole day kissing someone. It felt natural. I couldn’t explain why.
“Chuk, chup, chueup…. Hauum…♡”
Still not enough. Nipples rubbed, fingers sucked, yet orgasm refused to arrive.
One step from the edge, I teetered on an invisible line, forever about to cross it and forever not quite.
My breathing grew ragged.
I could no longer wait politely with a showerhead and a finger in my mouth. Twisting my thighs, fidgeting my hips, I finally let the showerhead slip from my grasp. Water sprayed everywhere, turning the bathroom into chaos, but I no longer cared.
Vision hazy. Literally nothing registered. Having come this far, there was nothing left to hesitate over. Left hand still at my mouth, I brought my right hand between my legs.
Tok. The moment my index finger touched my clitoris, the world spun.
“Hieuk…♡?!”
Heightened sensitivity had made an already delicate body several times more responsive than usual.
That extreme female body offered pleasure beyond anything I had known as a man. Having tasted far lesser heights before, I could not refuse what Eileen’s flesh now gave me.
It was a kind of drug. Once tasted, escape became impossible.
Perhaps from the very first orgasm I had already become pleasure’s slave.
Suddenly I remembered the resolution I had made that morning while dressing for school: from now on I would never masturbate again.
Looking back, it had been stupid. Foolish.
How was anyone supposed to endure something this good?
Was there even a reason to endure? It wasn’t as if I were taking actual poison…
Dopamine flooded me without mercy. The pleasure that had begun to explode could no longer be stopped, and I no longer wished to stop it.
Conscious effort was unnecessary now. One step from climax, my body moved almost automatically, fingers seeking the next motion.
I pressed firmly once on the clitoris that stood out like a button.
In that instant my body froze completely, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. The image of a full cup overflowing by a single drop rose in my mind.
“Ah. Ah…?”
A brief moment.
Cognition accelerated to its limit.
I felt the eerie pleasure begin its slow climb up my spine. Intuition screamed danger. Because of that warning I understood at once: this was not a pleasure I could withstand.
Like falling dominos, each place the sensation passed bent to its limit, forming a long, sliding slope.
It’s coming.
It’s coming…
“Ah…? Eu, guut, agueut…♡?”
Fear finally surfaced. If something this monstrous reached my head… what would become of me?
Even now I felt I might go mad; if I experienced this fully… wouldn’t my mind truly break? Others reading my thoughts might call it exaggeration, but for the one living it, there was no exaggeration at all.
Pleasure and terror bloomed together. Overwhelmed by fear I clenched my teeth and tried to hold back the rising wave.
But can a human stop the sea? This was a wave—a vast, light-pink surge of pleasure. Nothing the human body was built to resist.
Like a horror-movie killer, the climax approached with leisurely, unhurried steps and at last reached my head.
Flash—
For an instant my vision went pure white.
The wave of pleasure crashed over me and I came, spilling an ugly, broken moan.
“O, ot, eunghook…♡”
Pssst…
From my raised ass a thin stream of urine spilled. I felt it trickle warm down my thighs.
“Heuk, heek, hek…. Eungguuuu….”
I could not even think of rising. Face-down on the floor, half out of my mind, I simply rode the aftershocks.
Like a live fish hauled from the sea, my pelvis jerked several times in random, intermittent spasms.