The shower block was a cavern of white tile and heavy, humid air. Water hammered against the stone floor, creating a constant, deafening-roar that drowned out the world outside the heavy oak doors. Draconia stood under the spray, letting the hot water beat against her shoulders. She felt the exhaustion of the match settling into her bones, a dull ache that sat behind her eyes. Harry was already there, a silhouette in the thick, white mist. He stood a few feet away, his back to her, as the water sluiced down his skin. The steam rose in thick clouds, blurring the edges of the room until the walls seemed to vanish.
Draconia reached for the soap, her fingers slick and sliding. She watched the water run down the curve of his spine, tracing the muscle of his back as he moved. He turned slowly, his eyes finding hers through the haze. There was no sound of speech, only the rhythmic drumming of the water hitting the floor and the heavy breathing of two people in a confined space. He stepped closer, his boots splashing in the puddles. He reached out to touch her shoulder, his palm warm and rough against her wet skin.
He pulled her against him, his hands sliding down to her waist. Draconia leaned into the heat of him, her breasts pressing against his damp chest. He gripped the back of her thighs and lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist. She felt the hard length of his cock pressing against her belly through the thin layer of water. He moved her toward the tiled wall, his movements urgent but steady. He pressed her back against the cold stone, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the spray.
Harry gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh. He pushed her knickers down, the fabric soaking up the water until it fell to her ankles. He knelt on the wet floor, his knees splashing in the shallow pools. Draconia watched him as he parted her legs, his hands slick with water and soap. He found her cunt, his fingers sliding into the wet heat of her pussy. She gasped, the sound lost to the roar of the showers, as he rubbed his thumb over her clitoris.
He leaned forward, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. His tongue was hot against her skin, laving at the pulse point. Draconia gripped his hair, pulling him closer. She wanted the friction, the blunt reality of him. He moved his hand lower, sliding his fingers deep into her pussy, stretching her as he worked. The sensation was sharp and intense, a rhythmic pressure that made her hips jerk against the wall. He reached for his own trousers, stripping them away until he stood naked in the steam.
His cock was thick and hard, dark against the white mist of the room. He positioned himself between her legs, the head of his cock brushing against her wet slit. He pushed forward, a single, heavy thrust that filled her completely. Draconia wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a bruising kiss. He fucked her with long, heavy strokes, his pelvis slamming against hers with a wet, slapping sound. Every movement sent a jolt through her, the sensation of his cock stretching her walls as he drove deeper.
He gripped her ass, his fingers digging into the meat of her cheeks. He lifted her slightly, changing the angle so he could reach deeper into her. The friction of his cock against her pussy was constant and punishing. He fucked her harder, his breath coming in jagged hitches that she felt against her throat. She could feel the heat building in her abdomen, a tight, heavy weight that demanded release. He pushed himself into her, his cock sliding through the slickness of her juices, the sound of the fucking loud even above the spray of the water.
He leaned back, pulling out of her almost entirely before driving back in with a violent thrust. The sight of his cock disappearing into her made her vision blur. She watched the way his skin glistened under the water, the way his muscles bunched in his thighs as he worked. He found her clitoris again with his thumb, rubbing it with a frantic, heavy pressure. The sensation was too much, a bright, white heat that radiated from her center to her limbs.
He began to move faster, his strokes becoming shorter and more frantic. He was fucking her with a desperate, unthinking rhythm. Draconia felt her walls tighten around him, the contractions starting deep inside her. She arched her back, her head hitting the tiled wall as he drove his cock into her one last time. He held himself there, pinned against her, his breath a frantic rattle in the steam. He was close, his body tensing as he began to cum inside her. She felt the hot, thick pulses of his cum hitting the back of her womb, a heavy, flooding sensation that made her moan into the spray.
He didn't pull away. He stayed inside her, his weight pressing her into the wall. He slumped against her, his forehead resting on her shoulder as his breathing slowed. The water continued to hammer down, washing the sweat and the cum-slicked skin of their bodies. The steam remained thick, a white veil that kept the rest of the world at bay. He stayed there, his cock still buried deep in her pussy, the sensation of him a heavy, pulsing warmth.
The heat of the room felt permanent, a solid thing they could inhabit together. He shifted his weight, his hands sliding down to hold her hips as she began to stand on her own. The water pelted their skin, a constant, rhythmic distraction. Neither of them moved to clean the floor or to dry themselves. They simply stood in the center of the spray, the dampness of their hair clinging to their faces.
The temperature in the room felt as though it would never drop. They were trapped in the white haze, a small pocket of warmth in the vast, stone corridor. He reached out to brush a wet strand of hair from her face, his touch light and uncharacteristically soft. He didn't say a word, and she did not ask for one. They existed in the silence of the steam, the roar of the water the only thing that broke the stillness.
Suddenly, the heat broke. The water went cold and neither of them says why they stayed.