Immer wieder drehe ich mich und seufze. Wie gut das tut. Als der Strahl meinen Rücken zum dritten oder vierten Mal trifft, streife ich mit meiner Bru...t die Tür der Duschkabine. Ich halte inne, ein Kribbeln zwischen meinen Schenkeln. Langsam platziere ich mich parallel zur Tür, beuge mich etwas vor, noch ein Stück, bis mein Hintern schön rausgestreckt ist - auch wenn hinter mir keiner steht - und meine Nippel die Duschkabine berühren. Die trotz des heißen Wassers angenehm kühl ist. Ruhig bewege. “No. John could come home any minute.”“I’ll be quick.”She knew that he wouldn’t be home for at least an hour, so she didn’t resist when we kissed passionately.“I’m going to fuck you on the living room floor, right where everyone gathers each month. That way we’ll have secret memories.”I pushed her backward into the living room, lifted her dress, and pushed down her lace panties. After she stepped out of them, I pushed her to the floor where she laid down and watched as I dropped my pants. My. .. do you feel the same way?"She didn't answer in words immediately; she just leaned forward and pressed her lips against mine. They were soft, and opened against mine, her tongue tentatively probing. I started this story talking about 'simple pleasures'. I can say in all honesty that there was nothing simple about the pleasure of kissing Anji, or, rather, being kissed by Anji. If I were being analytical, I would have said she was ... inexperienced, which surprised me, but she more than made up. One that I feared, yet had to explore. I had to know. Was I a slut? Am I a slut. To be used by men for their enjoyment. I had to laugh, for I suddenly realized that this latter part was my marriage: Being used by hubby. The selfish bastard.KMart was coming back into view. Driving more carefully, more attentively, I switched lanes. The centre. The right. The turn lane.Fear gripped me.A quick glance over my left shoulder, a mighty jerk on the steering wheel, and I was propelling the car.