What i think of in the shower

I thought of you in my shower
tiles pressed against aching breasts
nipples taut, longing for the slight scraping of your teeth
instead of cool, white porcelain
eyes half closed in reverie
your voice against my ears
urging, lulling, beckoning
the water impossibly hot
yet the notion of your hard, urgent, cock
pressed up against the small of my back
positively molten
fingertips tracing against sodden clit, soft thighs
spreading myself apart for you
waiting for you
if all I have is this moment
then let me choose to be impaled on you
let you seep into my skin
much like the droplets of water and cum
deliciously mixed, lathed against drenched flesh