♡˖⁺Lily‧₊⁺♡

There’s a convenient built-in shelving feature on the wall behind your back, allowing you to lean your weight into your hands while your hips roll mindlessly against Steve’s mouth. 

Steve’s groaning. The echo of it fills the space just as much as the steam- interrupted every so often by his hand leaving your hip to stroke his cock- a wet, frantic sound before he’s back on and in you again.

Steve curls his tongue, stroking the textured wall of your pussy, making your knee seize and mold to his ear; his hand moves again, this time to smack sharply at your ass.

You interpret this correctly, chest heaving, tilting your pelvis and arching to rest just your upper back on the shower wall so Steve can get in deeper.

And he does- nose pressed tight to your aching clit, moaning and sending the vibrations spasming through to your core. Your pussy tightens in response, clenching around the thick muscle of his seeking tongue.

The shower head is aimed directly at your back, cascading down the length of you- there’s a fine layer of mist across Steve’s body, chestnut hair a shade or two darker from the runoff. 

You were briefly worried about the possibility of his drowning, but based on the way his nails are digging into your hips, pulling you closer and attempting suffocation, you think he might die happy.

“Steve,” you sigh out, the word getting swallowed up by all the other noises- namely, the slick one of his fists around his cock, again. “Feels so good…”

You lean more of your weight into your left hand, still anchored by a knee over Steve’s shoulder, to sink the fingers of your right hand into the roots of his dampening locks. The angle of his mouth is perfect, and you aim to keep him there, stealing a glance down as you do-

Steve looks like an angel, of course. Tawny skin stretched bare, all for you, brows knit together in exultation and concentration, eyes closed and lashes sweeping at the inside of your thighs. 

The crown of your head drops back to the wall when Steve starts fucking his tongue in and out of you, in quick, short movements, aided by your hand glued to his skull. 

The whole time, he’s making this sick, needy, low-pitched groaning noise, one that has you gasping, stuttering out his name in warning- 

“St-Steve, gonna- fuck, fuck, baby, like that-”

There’s another sharp smack to your ass before his hand comes to rest on your tummy, a loving stroke over it before his thumb dips down, works its way to your clit. 

As if his nose wasn’t enough. This way, he can rub tight circles in tandem with his tonguefucking, and focus his mouth’s attention solely on your spasming cunt.

Another noise is ripped from your lungs, this time, louder than all the water and white noise- it’s pure pleasure, a high, keening thing that makes Steve lightheaded. If his mouth wasn’t so full, he’d be talking you through it and singing your praises.

He lets his hands speak for him. Increases the pressure on your clit, works over in fast little movements, and leaves half-moon nail marks in the plush fat of your ass as he drags you closer, as you cum on his tongue.

 The orgasm pushes another long noise from your lungs, a mix of moan and whine, breathy and sweet- it ends in a sharp gasp, and Steve’s pulling his head from between your thighs, ever attentive.

“S’too much?” His speech is slurred, partially from pussy-drunkenness and partially from the mouthful of your slick and cum he’s storing. 

“No, no, so good, baby, just the metal- thing.” You gesture vaguely behind yourself, weak from coming, but Steve’s already rising to his feet.

He swallows, swipes the back of his hand blissfully across his mouth before going in for a kiss. “Sorry, honey, should’a had you in a different spot, just couldn’t wait.”

“I don’t mind.”