Chapter One
This is a day that I have been planning.
We are alone at home. I just told you that we have a totally free weekend. All the children are spending the weekend with friends on sleepovers. So starting in ten minutes until Sunday morning at about ten o’clock we will be having fun.
I select the clothes that we are to wear today. I place them on the large chair next to the bed. I pack my brown purse with all the things that we will need for today.
You are in the shower. I place large bath sheet towels on the bars just outside of the shower. I stand at the open entrance to the shower with your back to me. I stare, admiring your strong shoulders, and my eyes follow a trail of shampoo, leading me down your lean, muscular back to the crease in your beautiful, firm ass. The sound of the water and the sight is hypnotic, but I wake to the sensation of my index finger resting on my bottom lip, caressed by the tip of my tongue. Yet knowing I have already bathed, I silently strip. I enter the shower, take the washcloth from you and begin to bathe you.
I scrub your back slowly starting at your neck. I go in slow circles and with firm pressure I wash you. Your neck. Your shoulders. Your shoulder blades. Your arms. Your hands.
I then coax you to place your hands on the wall and spread your legs, which you do reluctantly – almost submissively. Then I continue the slow lathering and rinsing of your body. I continue with your back. Inch by inch. My hand then reaches your ass and soaps it well.
Your butt flexes.
The washcloth is at the crease between your ass and thigh. It glides over the inside and back of your legs barely touching your balls and your cock. I finish your legs. I turn you around and continue your chest, grazing your nipples. I continue downward along that nice path of hair that leads to your navel. Then follow that hair lower. Where does that hair lead I wonder?
My suck toy. My love handle. My dick. My cock. My baseball gear - bat and balls.
It leads to those parts of your body that I ignored. I will wash each slowly.
I grasp with lathered hands your love stick and begin stroking up and down, slowly and firmly, up and down. There is a steadying throb I relish from the wonderful thing in my loving hand, up and down.
My hands now gently begin cleansing your testicles massaging them slowly. I can feel them move lightly. They gradually turn in their sack. I slowly finish their cleansing. I bend and kiss them ever so lightly.
I tenderly rub along your perineum, leading me to your rosebud. I spread soap around the outside, working slowly inward. I then coax one soapy finger inside. I hear you sigh as I feel your muscles involuntarily submit to my touch in your most private place. It is not too large and does not hurt.
In and out, I tenderly stroke, in and out, feeling your physical warmth, relaxing you, touching you, in and out, in and out.
My hands stop.
I turn you to face me, spreading your legs again. I kneel. I open my mouth and surround your shaft with my lips. My mouth does not close. You can feel the heat of my mouth and lips, but they do not yet touch you.
My hand goes between your thighs. My finger finds your soap perfume-scented hole and slowly enters. When it reaches bottom, I close my mouth around my prize and suck in hungrily.
You start to thrust and you lose yourself.
I stop and pull back. I get out of the tub and wrap myself in a towel. I hand you another, and tell you, "Get out."
You look at me as if I was insane.
You touch the hard cock as if to say, "You forgot something."
"Get out. Now."
I dry you off.
I take you into the bedroom.
I tell you to put lotion on my legs and arms. You slowly rub the smooth warm liquid on my body. It is like my own freshly spent cum in texture, the color of your cum that you wish was covering my body. Your actions have made me both lethargic and excited. A contradiction, but truly good sex is a contradiction isn’t it? The point where pleasure is almost painful. The point where pain has become pleasure - where you want more stimulation, but cannot bear more without release.
“Now you need to make me cum. I want you to kiss me. I want you to feel how wet I am. I want you to lick my wet slit. I want you to make me cum in your mouth till it flows onto your face. I want cum on your fingers till my juices fill your hand.”
"Really?"
"Now!"
You close in and take me in your arms. You kiss me. You kiss me well - my neck, my breasts. You touch my nipples, suck them, and pinch them. You lower your hand, tracing your fingers downward to feel my wet cunt. You tease then rub your fingers along it and feel the wetness and the heat of my slit. It responds to you by getting wetter. You can smell me on your fingers. You put your fingers under my nose and I inhale my scent.
Your hand goes back to my cunt. You impale me on your fingers. They are going in and out -- in and out -- in and out of my tight quim.
You lean me on the bed, putting your head between my spread legs. You suck my clit and rhythmically pump your fingers in my body. I cum strongly. My juices flow from my love canal. I cover your face and hands with my copious juices.
We slowly stand by the foot of the bed. We are standing close together.
I reward you with a simple kiss of thanks. It’s just a gentle kiss on the lips. A kiss like I gave you when we were first introduced. It was a kiss for a person that I would not see again. The look in my eyes is not the same. My hands are in places and doing things that you would not have deemed possible that night.
