Steam's so thick I can barely see the tile in front of me, but I don't need to see. I can feel him behind me, that familiar heat of his body cutting through the fog, and my muscles are still singing from the workout — hamstrings tight, shoulders loose, that good kind of tired that makes everything feel slower and sharper at the same time. The water's beating down on my shoulders, too hot the way I like it, and I've got one hand flat on the cool cinderblock wall, letting the spray wash the sweat off my neck.

He's been quiet since we got in here. That's not like him. Usually he's got something to say — a joke, a tease, a comment about the old guy who was staring at my legs on the treadmill. But he just stepped in behind me, close enough that I can feel the heat coming off his chest, and his hands found my hips like they belonged there.

I don't turn around. I just lean back into him, let my head rest against his shoulder, and close my eyes under the spray. His hands slide up my sides, slow, and I feel his thumbs trace the underside of my ribs. I shiver, and it's not from the cold.

"Good workout?" His voice is low, right against my ear.

"Mm." I tilt my head back further. "Leg day."

"I could tell." His hands move down, over my stomach, and I feel his fingers spread against my skin. "You're all loose."

He's not wrong. I've been loose all afternoon, but not from the squats. The plug's been inside me since we left the house, a thick, insistent weight that's had me thinking about nothing else for two hours. Every time I bent over to grab a dumbbell, every time I sat down between sets, I felt it — that constant, aching reminder of what he promised me in the car on the way over.

His hand slides lower, fingers trailing through the wet hair at the base of my belly, and I feel my breath catch. He knows. He's been knowing all afternoon, watching me shift in my seat at the red lights, watching me bite my lip when I racked the weights. His fingers find the base of the plug, and I feel him go still.

"Jesus, Jodi." His voice is rough. "You've been walking around with this in all afternoon?"

"You told me to wear it." I open my eyes, look over my shoulder at him. His hair is plastered to his forehead, water streaming down his face, and his eyes are dark. "Said you wanted to feel how tight I was around it when you pulled it out."

He makes a sound — low, almost a growl — and his fingers close around the base of the plug. I feel it shift inside me, that thick stretch of it moving, and I have to grip the wall to keep my knees from buckling.

"That's it," he breathes. "Feel that? Feel how deep it's been in you all afternoon?"

"David—"

"Shh. I can feel you clenching around it. You've been thinking about this as long as I have."

"Turn around."

I do. Slowly. The water's streaming between us, and I can see the outline of him — already hard, already pressing against his shorts. He's still wearing them, the grey fabric dark with water, and I can see exactly how much he wants this.

"Look at you," he says, his eyes raking down my body. "Standing here in front of me like you didn't spend two hours on that treadmill knowing what was waiting for you."

"You told me to wear it." My voice comes out smaller than I meant it to.

"I know I did." He steps closer, and I feel the heat of him. "And you didn't argue. Didn't even blink. Just bent over and let me put it in you before we left the house."

He doesn't take them off. He just turns me, one hand on my shoulder, guiding me back to face the tile. His chest presses against my back, and I feel his cock through the wet fabric of his shorts, pressing against the curve of my ass, right where the plug is.

"You feel that?" He grinds against me, and I feel the plug shift again. "Feel how hard I am?"

I nod, my forehead against the cool tile.

"Say it."

"I feel it." My voice is a whisper. "I feel how hard you are."

"I've been thinking about this all day." His hand slides down my stomach, between my legs, and I feel his fingers find my clit. I gasp. "Thinking about pulling this out of you and filling you up."

"How long?" I can barely get the words out. "How long have you been—"

"Since you walked past me in the kitchen this morning in nothing but that robe. You know that robe, Jodi? The short one?" His fingers work slow circles on my clit, and I can feel how wet I am — wetter than the water, slick and hot, a different kind of wet. "You bent over to get the coffee mug and I saw everything. Every single thing you were hiding under that silk."

"You should have said something."

"Where's the fun in that?" His teeth graze my shoulder. "You knew I was watching. You took your sweet time with that coffee, didn't you? Made sure I got a good look."

I can't deny it. I can feel the heat in my cheeks, and it's not from the steam.

"And then you had the nerve to wear these shorts to the gym." His hand slaps my ass, sharp, and I yelp. "Short enough that I could see the plug through the fabric when you bent over to rack the weights."

"That's the point of them."

"Oh, I know." His fingers leave my clit and find the base of the plug again. He tugs, just a little, and I feel it start to slide out of me — that thick, obscene stretch of it, the pop of the widest part, and then it's out, hanging in his hand, and I feel so empty I could cry.

"Look at that." He holds it up in front of my face. "You kept that in you for two hours. Squatting. Lunging. Sitting on the bench between sets. Every single rep, this thing was in you."

"You told me—"

"I know what I told you." He taps the plug against my hip. "I told you to wear it. I didn't tell you to enjoy it."

I can feel my face burning. "I didn't—"

"Don't lie to me." His voice drops. "I saw your face when you were doing hip thrusts. You were grinding down on that bench, weren't you? Getting off on it right there in front of everyone."

"There was a guy watching me." The words come out before I can stop them.

"I know." His hand is on my hip, hard. "I saw him. Saw the way he was looking at your ass in those shorts. Saw the way you arched your back a little more when you noticed him looking."

"I wasn't—"

"You were." He presses the plug into my hand. "Hold this. Don't drop it."

My fingers close around it. It's warm and slick, and I can feel my whole body trembling.

"And that's okay." His voice is softer now, right against my ear. "I wanted him to look. Wanted him to see what he couldn't have. Because this — " he grinds against me, and I feel his cock through the wet fabric " — this is mine. You're mine."

And then his shorts are gone — I hear them hit the tile — and his cock is pressing against me, hot and thick, sliding through the wetness between my legs, finding the place where the plug just was. He doesn't push in yet. He just holds himself there, the head of his cock pressed against my entrance, and I can feel him throbbing.

"You want it?" His voice is rough in my ear.

"David." It comes out as a whimper. "Please."

"Please what?"

"Please." I can feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. "Please, I need—"

"Need what?" His hand is on my hip, holding me still. "Tell me what you need."

"You." My voice cracks. "I need you inside me. I've been thinking about it all day. Every time I sat down, every time I felt that plug, I was thinking about your cock replacing it. Please, David. Please."

He pushes in. Slow. So slow I can feel every inch of him, the way he stretches me open, the way my body has to remember how to take him without the plug. He fills me up completely, and I feel my head fall back against his shoulder, my mouth open, a sound coming out of me that I can't control.

"God," he groans. "You're so tight. Tighter than I remember. That plug kept you open all day and you're still squeezing me like a vice."

"David—"

"I know. I know. Just give me a second." He holds still, both hands on my hips, and I can feel him shaking. "Fuck, Jodi. You feel incredible."

And that's when my phone buzzes.

It's on the ledge by the shampoo bottles, and the screen lights up — The Girls. I can see it through the steam, the name of the group chat glowing, and I know exactly who it is. Karen. It's always Karen.

I should ignore it. I should let it ring out, let it go to voicemail, deal with it later. But my thumb's already moving, reaching for the phone, and I'm answering it before I can think — holding it up like I'm just checking in, like I'm a normal person in a normal shower and not standing here with my husband's cock buried inside me and a butt plug in my hand.

"Don't you dare," David warns in my ear. But he doesn't pull out.

The screen flips to video. I didn't even realize I hit the video button. And suddenly there they are — Karen's face, Deb's face, Lisa's face, all of them on the screen, all of them in their own little boxes, and I can see Karen's eyebrow go up.

"Jodi!" Karen's voice comes through the speaker, tinny and bright. "There you are! We were just—"

She stops. I watch her face change. Her eyes narrow, and I know she's looking at the screen, looking at me, trying to figure out what's different about me. My face is flushed. My hair is plastered to my head. My eyes are a little too wide, a little too bright.

And I'm holding very, very still.

Because David hasn't stopped. He's still inside me, but he's not moving — I can feel him holding himself still, waiting, and I can feel his hand on my hip, fingers digging in just a little.

"Girl," Karen says slowly, "why are you video calling us from the shower?"

"Just—" My voice comes out breathy. I clear my throat. "Just checking in. You said something about the cooler—"

"I said the cooler's on David." Karen's grin is spreading. "But you're the one calling me from the shower. With your husband."

I can hear Deb snort in the background. Lisa's eyes are wide, her hand over her mouth.

"He's—" I start, and then David moves.

Just a little. Just a small shift of his hips, a tiny thrust, and I feel the head of his cock press against something deep inside me, and my breath catches in my throat. I see Karen's eyes sharpen on the screen.

He does it again. Another slow, deliberate thrust, and I have to bite my lip to keep from making a sound. I feel his hand slide up my stomach, his fingers splaying across my ribs.

"Tell them where I am," he murmurs in my ear, low enough that I know the phone can't pick it up. "Tell them what I'm doing to you."

I shake my head. I can't.

"Jodi." Karen's voice is low now. "Is that David?"

"It's—" I can't finish the sentence. David moves again, a little more this time, and I have to bite my lip to keep from making a sound.

"Girl, you better not hang up."

I don't. I hold the phone up, my hand shaking just a little, and I watch the three of them on the screen — Karen leaning forward, elbows on her knees; Deb's mouth hanging open; Lisa's eyes darting between the screen and something off-camera, like she can't decide where to look.

David's hand comes around my waist, and I feel him pull my hip back, tilting me just a little, and then he starts to move. Slow at first, long and deep, and I can hear the wet sound of it even over the shower. I know they can hear it too. I know because Karen's eyes go wide and her hand comes up to cover her mouth.

"Oh my god," Deb breathes. "Jodi, is he—?"

"Ask her," David says, louder now, his voice carrying. "Ask her what I'm doing to her."

I see Karen's eyes flash. "Is he inside you right now, Jodi?"

I can't answer. I can only nod, my forehead against the tile, the phone shaking in my hand.

"I need to hear it." Karen's voice is firm. "I need to hear you say it."

"He's—" I gasp as David thrusts deeper. "He's inside me."

"And you're in the shower." Deb's voice is hushed, disbelieving. "At the gym. In the shower."

"We just worked out," I manage. "We just—"

"You just what?" Lisa's voice is barely above a whisper.

David's hand is on my hip, pulling me back onto him with every thrust, and I can feel the familiar heat building in my belly, the way my body clenches around him with every stroke. The phone is shaking in my hand, and I realize I'm gripping the plug so tight my knuckles are white.

"Tell them," he says again. "Tell them what you did after your workout."

"I—" My voice breaks. "I put on short shorts."

I hear Deb's sharp inhale. Karen's eyes are dark, knowing.

"And then?" David's voice is a low growl.

"And then I walked past the weight rack." I'm panting now, the words coming out between thrusts. "And I bent over. And I let him see—"

"Let who see?" Karen asks.

"The man." I can feel my face burning. "The man on the leg press. He was watching me."

"And what were you wearing under those shorts, Jodi?" David's voice is rough, meant for me, but I know they can hear it too.

"Nothing." The word comes out broken. "I wasn't wearing anything."

There's a beat of silence on the other end of the line. Then Karen's voice, low and warm: "You've been walking around the gym with nothing under your shorts?"

"She had the plug in," David says, and I feel the heat of the words even as I hear them. "She's been carrying it around all day. Squatting with it. Lunging with it. Grinding down on the bench with it."

"David—"

"Tell them." His hand is on my ass now, squeezing, pulling me back onto him. "Tell them how it felt."

"It felt—" I can't find the words. "It felt like I was going to come every time I moved."

I hear Lisa make a sound — a little gasp, a little whimper. Karen's eyes are wide, her lips parted, and I can see the way her chest is rising and falling, fast and uneven.

"And now?" Karen asks. "What does it feel like now?"

"Now I'm empty." My voice cracks. "Now I'm—"

"Now she's full of my cock," David finishes for me, and I feel him drive into me, deep, and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out. "She's got a handful of the plug I pulled out of her, and she's full of me, and she's on video with you three watching."

"You're on video," David says in my ear. His voice is low, rough, meant for me. "You hear that? They can see you."

I whimper. I can't help it. The thought of it — of them watching, of them seeing me like this, of them hearing every sound I make — it's too much. I feel heat flood through me, and David feels it too, because I hear him make a sound, a low groan, and his hand tightens on my hip.

"She's not going to hang up," Karen says, and her voice is different now — lower, rougher. "Are you, Jodi?"

I shake my head, the phone wobbling in my hand.

"Good." I hear the smile in her voice. "Because I want to hear this."

"You hear that?" David's voice is ragged in my ear. "Your best friend wants to hear you come."

David picks up the pace. His thrusts get harder, deeper, and I have to brace myself against the tile with my free hand, the one not holding the phone and the plug. The water's beating down on us, and I can hear it slapping against our skin, mixing with the sound of him fucking me, and I know — I know — they can hear it on the other end of the line.

"You hear that?" I don't know if I'm talking to him or to them. "You hear—"

"We hear," Deb says, and her voice is hushed, like she's watching something she shouldn't be. "Jodi, we—"

She stops. I can see her swallow, see her eyes drop to her lap.

"She's touching herself," Karen says, and her voice is matter-of-fact, almost clinical. "Aren't you, Deb?"

I watch on the screen as Deb's face goes red. She doesn't deny it.

"And you, Lisa?" Karen's eyes flick to the other box. "I see your hand under the table."

Lisa's eyes go wide. She shakes her head, but I can see the movement of her arm, can see the way her shoulders are trembling.

"Don't stop," I manage. "Please. Don't stop."

David's hand slides up my stomach, and I feel his fingers find my breast, squeezing, rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. I gasp, and the phone tilts, and I catch a glimpse of myself on the screen — my face flushed, my mouth open, my eyes half-closed. I look wrecked. I look like exactly what I am.

"Look at you," Karen says softly. "Look at what he's doing to you."

"You're so tight," David groans in my ear. "God, Jodi. You feel so good."

"Tell her," Karen says. "Tell her how she feels."

He does. His voice is rough, broken, right against my ear. "She feels like heaven. She feels like she's been waiting all day for this, and now she's clenching around me like she's trying to keep me inside her forever."

I can't answer. I can only feel — feel him inside me, feel the way he fills me up, feel the heat building and building and building until I think I'm going to come apart. The plug is still in my hand, slick and warm, and I'm holding it like a talisman, like it's the only thing keeping me grounded.

"I want to see." Karen's voice cuts through the steam. "Jodi, I want to see his face."

I don't know why I do it. Maybe it's the heat, maybe it's the way David's cock is hitting that spot inside me with every thrust, maybe it's just the sheer wrongness of it — but I turn the phone.

David's face fills the screen. His eyes are closed, his mouth open, his jaw tight. Water's streaming down his face, and I can see the hickey on his neck, the one I gave him this morning, still dark and fresh. He looks — he looks like he's being destroyed. He looks like he's never felt anything like this in his life.

And I watch Karen's face on the screen as she sees him. Her eyes go soft, her lips part, and I see her hand move, just a little, like she's reaching for something she can't touch.

"Holy shit," Deb whispers.

David opens his eyes. He looks at the phone, at the screen, at the three women watching him, and I see his jaw tighten. But he doesn't stop. He doesn't slow down. He looks right into the camera, right at them, and he fucks me harder.

"You like watching?" His voice is rough, ragged. "You like watching me fuck my wife?"

"Yes," Karen says, and her voice is steady. "Yes, I do."

"Tell me what you see." His hand is on my hip, pulling me back onto him. "Tell me what you're looking at."

"I'm looking at you." Karen's voice is low, intimate. "I'm looking at the way your jaw is tight, the way you're holding her, the way you're—" She pauses, and I hear her swallow. "The way you're giving it to her."

"And you?" David's eyes move to Lisa's box. "What do you see?"

Lisa's hand is still under the table. Her face is flushed. "I see—" She stops, starts again. "I see a man who loves his wife."

"I do," he says, and I feel the words hit me in the chest. "I love her more than anything in this world. And I love the way she feels when I'm inside her."

"David," I gasp. "David, I'm—"

"I know." His hand slides down my stomach, finds my clit, and I feel my whole body clench. "Let go. Let them hear you."

"Please—"

"Let go, Jodi." His voice is a command. "Come for me. Come for all of them."

I do. I come with my face in the camera, with the phone shaking in my hand, with the plug still clenched in my fist. I come and I hear myself — a sound I've never heard myself make, high and broken and raw — and I hear Karen's voice through the speaker, soft and awed: "There she is."

"That's it," David groans. "That's my wife."

David doesn't stop. He keeps fucking me through it, his hand still on my clit, his cock still driving into me, and I feel the second orgasm building already, coiling in my belly like something alive.

"Again," he says. "I want you to come again."

I shake my head. I can't. I can't.

"Yes you can." His hand presses harder. "Come for me. Come for all of them."

"I can't—"

"You can." Karen's voice is in my ear, through the speaker, warm and sure. "You can, Jodi. I know you can. I've seen the way you are. You've got more in you."

"Karen—"

"Let go, baby." Her voice drops. "Let us see you. Let us hear you."

And I do. I come again, harder this time, and I feel my body clench around him so tight I can feel every inch of him, every vein, every pulse. I hear him groan, feel him shudder, and then I feel it — the hot flood of him filling me up, his cock twitching inside me as he comes, his hand gripping my hip so hard I know there'll be bruises.

"Fuck," he breathes. "Jodi. Fuck."

We stay like that for a long moment — him buried inside me, me leaning against the tile, both of us breathing hard. The water's still beating down on us, and I can hear the phone, still held up in my shaking hand, still live.

I lift it up. Look at the screen. Karen's looking back at me, her face soft, her eyes knowing. Deb's got her hand over her mouth. Lisa's looking at her lap.

"Well," Karen says, and her voice is warm, teasing, gentle. "I guess that answers the question about the cooler."

I laugh. It comes out broken and breathless, but it's a laugh. "The cooler's on David."

"I saw." She grins. "Girl, you better put that phone down before you drop it in the shower."

I look down at my hand. I'm still holding the plug. I'm still holding the phone. And I'm still — I can feel him softening inside me, feel his cum starting to leak out around him.

"Talk later," I manage. "I gotta—"

"Go." Karen's already waving me off. "Go finish whatever you're finishing. But Jodi?"

"Yeah?"

"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen." She blows me a kiss, and the call ends.