Plugged In and Improper. Close Quarters, #15

Jude syncs to the rain. His arm moves the wiper blade in long deliberate swipes - a dialogue of wetness and friction that is also a description of everything that follows. Then he's in an alley with Ivy's legs entwined around his hips, his cock softening but not retreating, the slick trail of their mingled fluids clinging to his shaft and dripping down her thighs. This is a book about objects. She plucks a crimson thong from the laundry in direct challenge.
He tears into the piles, each silk panty sliding through his fingers, the neatly stacked whites and darks reduced to a monument of his fraying control. He folds a towel with deliberate slowness, tracing the seam, pressing it to his chest. A harsh metallic bang echoes in the locker room and he freezes, cock throbbing beneath denim. He turns the dimmer down notch by notch, sweat slick on his fingers, and thrusts into her dripping wet pussy, cum gushing in a suffocating stew of golden light.
Wipers, laundry, towels, dimmer switches - all foreplay.