I let him take me to the shower, and that ruined normal sex for me

I went to his place, planning to just hang out, maybe cuddle, maybe fool around a bit. But when I walked into his bathroom and saw the steam coming from the shower while he stood there naked, I couldn’t resist. I stripped off my clothes and joined him, water dripping onto both of us, and the moment he pressed me against the tile, I knew I was in trouble.

The warmth of the water mixed with the warmth of his hand on my body made me moan even before he entered me. He lifted my leg, pressed me against the wall, and began thrusting so deeply that I thought my knees would buckle. Each thrust echoed in the small space, water splashing everywhere, my nails digging into his shoulders as I tried to stay upright. He whispered in my ear how tight I was, how he wouldn’t let me go until I came.

I couldn’t stop myself—I came hard, trembling, my moans muffled by his lips on mine. But he didn’t stop. He bent me over, the water running down my back, and fucked me from behind until I screamed, barely breathing. The sound of skin slapping against my ass, the steam, the raw heat—it was overwhelming.

When he finally pulled out and came on my ass, the water washed over my thighs, leaving me weak and dripping. We just stood there, laughing and kissing under the shower spray, my body still trembling. Honestly, normal sex in bed feels boring after something like that.

I keep replaying the image of him holding me against the wall like I belonged solely to him.