Other than the amazing hotel sex, the best part about going with my husband on his business trip was the hotel and its bathroom. The bathroom in our hotel room was as big as a small apartment I once lived in at college. In most cities a space this size was called an efficiency, but in our hotel in mid-town Manhattan it was nothing short of luxury.
The bathroom décor focused on glass and metal. A tub large enough for me and three of my best friends sat on one side of the bathroom. I promised myself that I would fantasize about my three best friends joining me in a hot bath later when I masturbated after my shower. Above the tub was a huge mirror and on the next wall, above the vanity, was another huge mirror. And close to the middle of the room was a glass box: the shower.
I untied my silk robe and let it fall to the floor. My naked body reflected back at me on all sides, making me flushed and dizzy. My fingers traced my body from my pussy to my round, firm breasts and encircled my quickly hardening nipples. I stepped inside the Glass Box, turning around and watching myself stare back. Every angle, every side, nothing was hidden. I was completely exposed but there was no one watching.
I turned on the water and noticed the adjustable massager. You know the kind, turn the knob and make it faster and harder or softer and slower. Sometimes I wished my husband had a knob like this so I could make him fuck me faster and harder or slower and softer depending on my mood. This type of shower massager was the turning point in my pubescent life. My younger years were blessed with a detachable showerhead. It was there, in the shower at my parent's house that I learned the joys of masturbation. Turn that shower massager on high and it's just as good as any thirty dollar vibrator, except of course when your mother starts yelling about the hour long showers, two, three…okay, seven days a week.
So here I was in this Glass Box with a showerhead that brought back many one-handed fantasies and made my nipples erect just looking at it. Needless to say, I was getting excited.
I turned on the water and felt like a mermaid in an aquarium. The only thing missing was an audience. I began to lather myself up, watching as the water pelted down my back. I rubbed the soap over my tits, across my stomach and down into my pussy. It was then that I had the great idea to shave off all of my pussy hair. I had never shaved my pussy before but my husband had been begging me to do it for years. I drew the razor across the top of my pussy to take off the first layer. I felt erotic and continued until I was bare. Soon the bottom of my Glass Box was covered in short black curlies and the shower was beginning to steam up nicely. It was as if I was in a disappearing act as the steam started at the bottom and worked it's way up the glass box, hiding my feet, moving up my long legs, over my freshly shaved pussy and reaching my stomach. I really wanted to watch myself, especially now that I was physically equipped to relieve my horny little self. I stepped out of the shower dripping wet (in more ways the one) and opened the bathroom door. The chill from the cold air had my skin on edge and made me tingle all over.
I stepped back in my Glass Box and ran one hand over my supremely hard nipples, lightly pinching and tugging on them as I parted my legs. I felt like a Playboy centerfold and began posing. I parted my legs a little farther apart, arched my back so my tits rubbed against the glass wall, and with one hand parted the lips of my pussy.
I took one finger and made my clit nice and hard with tiny circular movements. My head naturally went back and I wanted someone behind me, pulling my hair, and pressing his hard cock between my firm ass cheeks. Masturbating alone in the shower was fine when I was young but I was a big girl now and I wanted to be fucked.
