Bubbles 11

I sat, almost lay if I'm honest, in the bath, a liberal layer of bubbles covering me almost up to my neck. I didn't get to take baths often, I only had a shower back home. I was in the city for a work conference though, and apparently the most cost effective accommodation was a small apartment for myself and my colleague, two bedrooms and one bathroom. I'd worked with Sarah for a couple of years, since she started and we'd always gotten along well. She was smart, fun, and easy to talk to. Attractive too, although when she'd mentioned her now-ex girlfriend I'd resigned myself to just the odd admiring glance and friendly banter.

I was glad when the job had picked the two of us for this trip, Sarah was much easier to get on with than a lot of other people in the office and we'd had a good day. Admittedly, I was tired though and needed to unwind. The bath seemed like the way to do it. I'd forgotten how relaxing a good soak was, my next pace should definitely have a tub.

I was lost in my own thoughts, eyes closed, when the door opened. My eyes snapped open as Sarah walked in, glancing down at me with a smirk. "Oh god, sorry!" I spluttered. "Should've locked the door."

"Don't worry." She replied, not breaking stride as she walked up to the mirror, wiping away a little condensation and checking her lipstick. It was a deep red, that contrasted with her complexion, and her dark hair pulled back in a professional ponytail. She still wore her clothes from the day, a black jacket over a white blouse and a skirt over some dark tights. That skirt was fairly short, and showed off the curve of her... nope! Must not do that, especially not now, the bubbles might not be able to camouflage a reaction.

She turned to face me just as I managed to take my eyes off the skirt. "You look comfy in there." She said teasingly. "Got enough bubbles?"

"Eh, I didn't want to go overboard." I replied, mustering as much chill as I could in this slightly weird situation, propping one arm over the side of the bath in an attempt to look casual.I don't think it worked. "But they should help me get nice and clean." Somehow I managed not to cringe at my own terrible banter, I was definitely flustered.

Sarah smirked, crooked an eyebrow. "You feeling particularly dirty?" She asked. "Need an extra pair of hands?"

My precarious chill must have disappeared completely at that point as I think I only managed a positive, slightly confused noise as she took a step towards the tub and dipped her hands in the bubbles. Sarah started to gently rub the suds into my shoulders, hands dipping slightly into the water line. She made a contented little purr as she massaged my torso. My mind was racing, pulse doing the same thing. "I didn't think I was your type." I said, half questioning.

"I'm pansexual." She explained. "You just never asked. Arms up."

I wasn't sure why I hadn't considered that, but it sounded positive and I raised my arms above my head as instructed. Before I knew it, something had happened to my hands. Sarah's hair hung free now, but my hands weren't. Soft fabric secured them to the towel rail just above my head. A brief panic gripped me, a surge of adrenaline before she leaned close, almost whispering, "Good boy."

This was intense. I was already breathing hard as her hands made their way back into the tub. She was kneeling beside it now, leaning over. I felt her fingertips trace their way down my stomach, working up and down, rubbing a little harder each time. I felt her nails trace over one thigh and then the other, down to the knee, then back up the inner thigh, teasingly close.

Her hands made their way back up again, resting on my shoulders. I felt her breath on my neck, her lips so close to me. A ragged breath escaped my own lips and I realised I was gripping the towel rail hard. I forced myself to ease that grip just a little.

And then her hands were in the water again, one gently wrapped around my rock hard cock, still somehow concealed by bubbles. She made a pleased little moan as she felt the girth, slowly making her way up the full length. My breath caught in my throat. Her hand felt so good. "Oh fuck." I muttered, eyes half closed.

She moved so slowly. One hand was wrapped tightly, possessively, around my cock. The other wandered over my body, fingertips teasing my stomach, my thighs, my balls. I moaned. I couldn't stop myself, I had such little control over myself. Sarah had complete power over me at that moment. She knew it. She watched my face as ecstasy wrote itself all over me. I was so hard. Her eyes gave away her satisfaction with how I was reacting, and that smile was unmistakable. I was lucky enough to be a well endowed guy, and that usually gave some sense of power, a little natural dominance but that was gone.

She started to stroke faster. My hips started to move a little, matching her rhythm. I felt the soft fabric around my wrists tighten just a little as my body moved with her, I had so little control. I was breathing hard, something like a moan escaping with each breath. The tempo built steadily and I could feel myself getting closer and closer.

And then she stopped.

The noise I made was almost pained, a combination of deep frustration and surprise. Her grip relaxed. My breathing slowed just a little and I looked at her. There was an expression of deep satisfaction on her face. I glanced down, the bubbles had almost gone now and I could see her hand wrapped around me. We locked eyes for a moment and I knew what I had to do. One single word, "Please."

After what felt like an eternity, her grip tightened again and her hand was moving. It was even faster than before, working my cock harder. She knew how close she'd gotten me, how little she needed to do to make me really lose control. Moments later I was there. I heard myself moaning with uncontrolled pleasure. My eyes closed reflexively as I felt myself explode. Waves of intensity flooded out of me as I started to cum into the warm water. The sensation seemed to last a long time, but was probably only seconds.

When I was finally able to open my eyes, I was alone again. I peeled my fingers off the towel rail, my wrists now free and tried, slowly, to catch my breath.