Chapter 3: Shower Slut
The black marble was cold under her knees. A sharp, grounding contrast to the steam curling thick in the air, smelling of lavender and the faint chlorine from the building’s water. Rose knelt in the shower’s spray, the rainfall patter a constant drum on her shoulders, her back, the crown of her head. Water streamed down her face, beading on her eyelashes.
Jane and Erik stood above her, their bodies glistening and unreal in the mist. Jane’s red hair was plastered dark to her skull, water sluicing down the valley between her breasts. Erik’s blond hair was darker, his muscles taut as he looked down at Rose with a hungry, appreciative smile.
“Look at her,” Jane said, her voice echoing off the tile. She pressed a thigh against Rose’s cheek, the skin smooth and hot. “Just waiting. So pretty on her knees.” Her hand settled in Rose’s wet hair, not gently. A possession.
Erik stroked himself to full hardness, his cock rising thick and ruddy against his stomach. “Open,” he said, the word a soft command.
Rose parted her lips, tilting her head back. The water flooded her mouth for a second before he guided himself in, the broad head pressing against her tongue. He tasted clean, like soap, but underneath it was the familiar, musky salt of him. She relaxed her throat, a skill she hadn’t known she possessed until last night.
“That’s it,” Erik groaned, his hands moving to brace against the shower wall. He pushed forward, an inch, then two, deeper. Rose’s jaw ached. She focused on breathing through her nose, on the heat of the water, on Jane’s thigh pressing harder against her.
“She takes it so well,” Jane murmured, watching intently. Her free hand drifted between her own legs, her fingers circling her clit in slow, deliberate motions. “Look at her throat work. You like that, don’t you, Rose? You like having your mouth stuffed full of cock while I watch?”
Rose couldn’t answer. A muffled sound vibrated around Erik’s length. Her eyes, streaming from the water and the strain, flicked up to Jane’s.
Jane’s grin was wicked. She shifted her stance, spreading her legs wider. “Get your face in my cunt,” she ordered, pulling Rose’s head to the side by her hair. “I want to feel that pretty nose buried in me while he fucks your throat.”
Rose obeyed, turning her head, nuzzling into the coarse, wet curls. The scent here was overpowering, pure Jane, earthy and sharp. She opened her mouth, licking at the swollen lips, finding the hard nub of Jane’s clit with her tongue.
“Fuck yes,” Jane hissed, her hips jerking forward. She ground herself against Rose’s face, a demanding rhythm. “Just like that. Eat me.”
It was a dizzying, overwhelming split in her senses. Erik was thrusting in a steady, deep pace now, his cock hitting the back of her throat with each push, triggering her gag reflex. She fought it, saliva and water mixing, dripping from her chin. Her world narrowed to the slam of him in her throat and the soft, giving heat of Jane against her mouth. She was a conduit, a vessel for their pleasure. The shame had burned away in the loft’s sunlight, leaving only this raw, animal need to be used.
“Her throat is so fucking tight,” Erik grunted, his tempo increasing. The slapping of his hips against her face joined the percussion of the water. “Gonna come down her gullet.”
“Do it,” Jane panted, her own movements becoming frenzied, her fingers tangled painfully tight in Rose’s hair, holding her in place. “Fill her up. I want to feel her scream around my pussy when you do.”
The pressure built, a coiling spring in Rose’s own belly, fed by their sounds, their commands, the utter helplessness of her position. She was moaning, the vibrations making Jane cry out and Erik curse.
He stilled, buried to the hilt, and let out a ragged roar. Rose felt the hot, pulsing release flood her throat. She swallowed convulsively, her body trembling from the effort, from the intimacy of the act.
As Erik softened and slipped from her lips, gasping, Jane’s climax hit. She clenched around nothing, her thighs squeezing Rose’s head, a broken series of cries tearing from her as she rocked against Rose’s merciless tongue until she was spent, sagging against the shower wall.
Silence, save for the water and their ragged breaths. Erik slid down the wall to sit on the shower floor, spent. Rose remained on her knees, water cascading over her, her face slick with their combined fluids. She was hollow, used, perfect.
Jane looked down at her, panting. She traced the line of Rose’s jaw with a thumb. “You,” she breathed, “are a revelation.” There was a crack in her voice, a glimpse of something that wasn’t pure dominance. Awe, perhaps.
Erik reached out a hand, stroking Rose’s shoulder. “No one… no one has ever,” he murmured, then shook his head, a boyish laugh escaping him. “Christ.”
Rose sat back on her heels, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her whole body thrummed. She looked at Jane’s sated, beautiful face, at Erik’s dazed admiration. A strange, cool clarity settled over her. The phone was off. Mark was in another universe. This steam-filled box of black marble was the only real thing.
“What now?” Rose asked. Her voice was rough, shredded.
Jane turned off the water. The sudden quiet was deafening. Drips echoed in the stall.
“Now,” Jane said, stepping out and grabbing a thick, black towel, “we get dressed. We go out into the world.” She wrapped the towel around herself and looked back at Rose, her green eyes sharp, calculating. “And you decide what you want. Because this doesn’t have to be a weekend. This can be whatever the fuck we make it.”
She offered a hand to help Rose up. The gesture was simple, but it felt more intimate than anything that had happened in the last hour. Rose took it, her fingers slipping against Jane’s. Erik stood too, pulling on a robe, his eyes never leaving them.
Rose looked from one to the other, water chilling on her skin. The longing she’d harbored for years hadn’t been for adventure, not really. It had been for this: to be seen, to be claimed, to be wanted with a ferocity that matched the quiet, desperate hunger inside her. She’d found it in the last place she’d ever looked.
“I know what I want,” Rose said, and the certainty in her own voice surprised her.
The words hung in the steamy air of the bathroom, heavy and final.
Jane’s fingers tightened around hers before she pulled Rose up from her knees. The black marble was slick underfoot, and Rose stumbled slightly, her body still trembling from the intensity of what they’d just shared. Jane steadied her with an arm around her waist, her touch possessive but gentle. Erik moved closer, his presence warm and solid at Rose’s back.
“Tell us,” Jane said, her voice low and rough. She brushed a wet strand of hair from Rose’s face, her green eyes searching. “What do you want?”
Rose swallowed, her throat still raw.
The steam from the shower curled around them, thick and intimate, as if the very air was holding its breath. She looked at Jane’s face—flushed, fierce, her red hair dark with water—and then at Erik, his boyish charm softened by something deeper now, something that looked like devotion.
“I want this,” Rose said, her voice steady despite the hammering of her heart. “I want you. Both of you. Not just for today. Not just for a weekend.” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “I want to know what it’s like to be yours. Completely.”
Jane’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. She leaned in, her mouth brushing Rose’s ear.
Her breath was warm, tinged with the faintest hint of lavender soap. "You don’t have to say it out loud, Rose. We already know."
Erik stepped forward, his hand gently cupping Rose’s chin, turning her face toward him. His eyes were soft, almost tender. "We’ve been waiting for you to figure that out."
Rose’s heart raced, but she felt a strange calmness settle over her. She looked between them, the intensity of their gazes making her breath catch. "I need to be honest with you both. I’m married. I have a life.
A husband. A home. A routine that feels like a cage sometimes. But I’m still Rose. And I’m not sure I can just walk away from all of that.
Jane’s fingers tightened around hers, pulling her closer. "You don’t have to walk away from anything. We’re not asking you to." "We’re not asking you to leave Mark. We’re asking you to come with us. To explore this. To see what happens when you let go."