Chapter 17: Party trick
The scent of their sex still hung heavy in the air, a sweet, musky perfume clinging to the cushions and their skin. Chloe became acutely aware of the cooling wetness beneath her, the sticky evidence of what her body had just done. She pushed herself up, her muscles feeling liquid and loose.
“I need a shower,” she murmured, her voice husky.
Dani just watched her, a look of dazed adoration on her face. “Okay.”
Under the spray of hot water, Chloe let the events wash over her. The memory of that impossible fullness, the shocking, volcanic release—it wasn’t just pleasure. It was a reclamation. A door she thought was locked had been blown off its hinges. She looked down at her body, at the water sluicing over her stomach and thighs, and a slow, wicked smile touched her lips. There was more. She could feel it, a deep, reservoir-like pressure that hadn't been fully emptied.
She turned off the water and cracked the shower door. Dani was already there, leaning against the doorframe, having followed the sound of the water.
“You getting out?” Dani asked.
“In a minute,” Chloe said, her smile turning secretive. “I want to show you a trick first.”
Dani’s eyebrows rose, intrigue sparking in her dark eyes. “A trick?”
Chloe leaned back against the cool, tiled wall, the steam curling around her. She brought her hand down between her legs, her fingers finding her swollen, sensitive flesh. She looked directly at Dani, holding her gaze as she slipped two fingers inside herself. It was easy, her body still loose and receptive.
“Fuck, Chlo,” Dani breathed, her hand instinctively moving to her own clit, which was already hardening again under her touch.
Chloe worked her fingers in and out, a slow, deliberate rhythm. But it wasn’t enough. The feeling was too familiar. She needed to push it. She curled her fingers, adding a third. The stretch was significant, but it was nothing compared to the monster she’d just taken. Her body accepted it without a whimper.
She pumped three fingers in and out, the wet, squelching sounds echoing in the humid enclosure. The pressure inside her began to build, a familiar tight coil low in her belly. But she wasn't chasing her own pleasure yet; she was performing, exploring the limits of this new capacity.
Then she added a fourth.
“Jesus Christ,” Dani whispered, her own hand moving faster between her legs. Her mouth was slightly agape.
Chloe’s breath hitched. Four of her own fingers stretched her to a burning, delicious fullness. She fucked herself with them, her arm working, her hips meeting the thrust of her hand. The coil tightened, a spring being wound to its breaking point. She could feel the orgasm gathering, a tidal wave about to crash. But she held it back, teetering on the very edge, her body trembling with the effort.
Just before the point of no return, she ripped her hand away, pulling her four glistening fingers out of her dripping cunt.
The effect was instantaneous and catastrophic.
Without the internal pressure of her fingers to contain it, the orgasm erupted out of her. It wasn't a spurt or a gush. It was a jet. A solid, milky stream shot from her opening, hitting the glass shower door with a sharp, wet slap. It didn't trickle down; it painted a thick, opaque line across the glass.
Dani’s jaw went slack. She watched, mesmerized, as Chloe’s body convulsed, her back arching off the wall, a raw, guttural cry tearing from her throat. The stream continued, relentless, like a hose had been turned on inside her. It was forceful, sustained, drenching the shower floor in a pool of white.
“It’s… it’s getting thicker,” Dani stammered, her voice barely a whisper. She was frantically rubbing her own engorged clit, her knuckles white. “It’s so much fucking milkier than before.”
It was true. The fluid was no longer translucent. It was opaque, creamier, with a viscous quality that made it cling to the glass in thick rivulets.
Chloe’s legs buckled, but she braced herself against the wall, her body still shuddering as the stream began to wane, slowing from a torrent to a heavy, pulsing flow, then to a final few thick drops that fell with audible plops onto the flooded tiles.
She was panting, spent, her head lolling forward.
That was all it took for Dani. The image of Chloe, powerful and unleashed, spewing that incredible, thick load was too much. A sharp, broken cry escaped her lips as her own orgasm ripped through her, her hips bucking against her own hand. She came hard, her eyes squeezed shut, seeing nothing but the blinding white image of Chloe’ impossible climax burned onto the back of her eyelids.
Slowly, the only sound was their ragged breathing and the drip of water from the showerhead. Dani opened her eyes. Chloe was still leaning against the wall, a look of stunned, triumphant exhaustion on her face. The glass door was a obscene masterpiece, streaked and clouded with the proof of what her body could do.
Dani finally found her voice, hoarse with awe. “What the fuck was that?”
Chloe looked up, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across her lips. “I think,” she said, her voice a low thrum, “that was just the beginning.”