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The sound of the shower running draws you in, the promise of something intimate and forbidden. Through the frosted glass, you can make out a silhouette, a body moving sinuously under the water. The woman inside is a stranger, yet familiar, her hands exploring her own wet, slippery flesh. She turns, her back arching as she presses the showerhead between her legs, the sound of her pleasure echoing off the tiles. She's lost in her own world, her body tensing as she nears her peak, her cries of release filling the steamy air.