When Zoey joined me in the bathroom, she was completely furious. I could see it on her face and feel it in her gaze. She was quivering with it.

She stripped off her dress and underwear on the opposite side of the glass shower door like it was a parka and she’d just walked into the Sahara. Naked and serious, she paused only momentarily in disbelief at my space-age shower before stepping in with me.

I was unrepentantly proud of my shower. It was approximately the same size as Zoey’s tiny apartment and possessed a profusion of body sprays and shower heads that meant it felt less like a traditional shower and more like being inside a pleasant, miniature hurricane. Anyone who has ever been in the military, let alone endured the unsatisfactory sponge baths that are required by life in zero gravity, learns to appreciate a proper shower. I made sure that mine took it to the next level with marble everything, two benches, Chroma therapy lighting (and I still wasn’t even sure what that was), and a pebbled, heated floor.

At the moment, however, all I was interested in was the beautiful woman in front of me.

Zoey had without a doubt the most perfect body I could imagine, and it looked even better dripping wet. Her creamy white skin turned a slightly rosier color in the warmth and low lighting, and the light brown hair I’d freed from its restrained style turned black under the sprays. Her curves were full and lush, with a round, firm ass and naturally bouncy, perky, round tits that practically begged to be played with. Her pale pink nipples hardened quickly when I reached out to brush them with my fingertips—she was always so responsive to my touch—and she leaned up against me, needy and eager for more.

Our lips locked onto each other with a renewed sense of urgency. Zoey’s big, chocolate brown eyes were wide open as she kissed me, while I tugged and pinched her nipples under the body sprays. She panted into my mouth as I repeatedly palmed, squeezed, and pinched at her; curious to see how she reacted and eager to discover just how much attention she could stand on those perfect stiff little peaks before it became too much for her.

She wriggled and set her back against the wall of the shower when I dipped my mouth down to suck her, her soft lips parting in pleasure as I licked, lapped, and kissed until my mouth was tired. She absorbed all the sensation like she couldn’t get enough, never asking me to slow down, let up, or go gently.

So, I didn’t. Instead, I parted her soft thighs with one hand and started stroking up into the slick warmth that I found there, earning me little moans and thrusts of her hips as she sought greater friction and intensity. Moving back to reclaim her mouth with my tired tongue, she gripped my hand with one of hers to push me more forcefully against her hot flesh until I continued at her desired pace, and then took my hard length in both hands, stroking at a matching leisurely, teasing pace. Her soft, gentle grip and movement was lovely, but not nearly enough.

Turning Zoey to face the wall away from me, I bent her over one of the shower benches like I’d wanted to do the first time I saw her. Though this was so much better than over the hood of her car. She leaned forward eagerly, bracing herself with her arms, lifting her round, gorgeous ass up and spreading her legs wide. The view of her from this angle was singularly breathtaking, and I savored it for a moment, stroking myself while she wiggled a bit back and forth impatiently.

She turned slightly to watch me with her reddened kiss-swollen lip bit between her white teeth. The intensity of her gaze on my hands as I fucked my fist while watching her provoked an involuntary noise in the back of my throat that was somewhere between a moan and a growl. She made a matching noise, her stare riveted to the tip of my cock. I needed her. I couldn’t wait any longer.

Gripping her hip with my left hand, I pushed into her hard, all at once. She shivered at the penetration, angling her torso into a tabletop and leaning submissively into me. She needed it too, I could feel it in her eyes when she looked back at me. She didn’t want it gentle. Something about that phone call earlier had set her off. She was tense. I would fix that.

I thrust into her with a quick and punishing rhythm. She took it eagerly, shoving her hot, tight body back against every stroke and urging me on with her little noises. Zoey wasn’t able to move much bent over in the slick shower, and I used my advantage of greater height, weight, and torque to keep her bent fully horizontal as I fucked her, putting a palm on the small of her back to push her back down if she tried to straighten or control the pace and depth.

She seemed more than happy to let me drive into her that way. Zoey moaned softly over the noise of the water as I shifted our tempo, going faster and deeper and gripping her waist to pull her against me harder with each thrust. I didn’t know if she could come this way with no pressure on her clit, but I was getting close.

“Touch yourself?” I whispered, bending over so I could nibble on her earlobe as I said it, “I want to watch you get yourself off while I fuck you.”

She flashed me an eager smile and I kissed her briefly before straightening up and continuing to move with her. Zoey enthusiastically complied with my request, using two fingers on herself and stroking in time with our thrusts.

Her noises rapidly became breather and louder, and I struggled behind her, overwhelmed by sensations as she became even tighter as her climax approached. She spiraled into her climax only moments before I followed her, bucking my hips into her as I emptied everything into her. I let go and my mind and body expended every ounce of energy and emotion in one moment of perfect pleasure and intimacy. I hoped desperately that Zoey felt some fraction of what I was feeling for her.

Before my conscious thoughts were completely eclipsed by the post-sex hormonal stupor I could sense approaching like an avalanche, I somehow managed to switch off the shower, wrap Zoey in a towel, and collapse onto the bed with her.

She looked over at me dreamily as I pulled the comforter over us both. We were still very wet, completely naked, and totally exhausted. It was blissful.

“I feel better,” she said, before yawning and snuggling into my chest.

I was glad she felt better. Whatever that call had been, it must not have been good. I smiled at her and brushed her hair from her face, too tired to reply.

As happy as I was to have Zoey curled up naked on me in my bed, a small corner of my heart had started dreading Zoey’s inevitable career success. She would get a job soon—a real newspaper job that would take her away from me. With the demise of the Philadelphia Monitor, there was no other local paper worthy of her talents. The gears in my weary mind began turning as we drifted off together. I knew there was a solution. I just had to find it.