He walked into the house, expecting his son to meet him at the door. He was somewhat confused to find the door locked. As he unlocked it, he noticed a glow coming from the stairs. The light flickered as the door opened, meaning it was a flame, most likely from a candle. When he closed the door and approached the stairs, he saw one red candle, its yellow flame pointing up. The waving motion looked like a hand calling for him to follow, to come, to walk the steps.
From the upstairs bathroom, he heard the song of soft music playing. As he climbed the stairs, he also heard the gentle splashing of water. He knew, yes he knew, his wife was taking a bath. When he reached the bathroom door, he smelled the soft scent of raspberry floating out.
"I love that smell," he whispered softly to himself. He gently opened the door and saw the soft lights of 20 candles, illuminating the bathroom in a shimmering yellow and black. Stepping forward, he heard the splash of the water and looked toward the tub. He smiled as he saw his wife in the water, bubbles cascading down from her elevated hand.
Some bubbles washed down her breasts, causing her nipples to react. She closed her eyes as she enjoyed the sensation. When the suds left her body, she drizzled some more, this time, she let her hand touch her skin.
"Yes," she moaned out as her touch felt so good against her own body. She always enjoyed baths: the softness of the bubbles, the warmness of the water. Added to the sensations, the light of the many candles and the music caused her mind to wander, wander to him, her husband.
She thought of him, his smile, his voice, his way of caring himself. She loved him and what he did to her. Her thoughts drifted off to the previous weekend, a weekend where her mother took the kids and left the two lovers alone.
Her hands glided over her breasts as she remembered her husband's touch. His touch was gentle, his hands soft as they squeezed her flesh. She performed the same action on herself as she thought of her husband's actions.
"Yes, baby," she moaned as she circled her nipples with her fingers, causing them to grow and harden. Her legs caused the water to flow over and touch her clit, making her squirm more. Her clit longed to be touched, it ached for his touch.
She remembered how he slid his hand down her body. She did the same, down her stomach, down to her thigh, then to her pussy. As she brushed her swollen love button, she inhaled then moaned. She cooed as her soft fingers ran down the outside of her lips.
"Yes, baby," she whispered as she went back and touched her clit. She cooed more as she made circles on her swollen nub. She remembered how he touched her, how he licked her, how he made her feel like a woman.
She inhaled deeply as she inserted a finger and began to move it in and out of her pussy. Almost cuming immediately, she tried to quiet her moans but was unsuccessful. Crying out his name, she felt the first waves of the orgasm flow over her, causing her to move her finger in and out faster. The water was moving out of the tub, making the floor wet, but she did not care. She was enjoying this and did not want to stop.
"Come on baby," she said as she thought of his hot cock plunging in and out of her. She loved when he was on top of her, pounding his hardness in her fast and deep. He did it that last weekend, and she loved it.
His heart was pounding as he stood there watching her have an orgasm. He felt his cock grow and knew he needed to do something about it. Slowly, he unzipped his pants and then let them fall to the floor. Taking off his shirt, he momentarily lost eye contact on her, but missed nothing. He put his thumbs under his underwear's waist band and moved them down. He stepped out of them. With one great effort, he removed his T-shirt.
He stood there naked, his cock erect and waiting for her warm, moist lips to kiss. Slowly, he took steps toward the bathtub and to watch her more closely.
She was in the throws of passion, her orgasm rolling over her in waves, each wave more intense than the previous. She loved him, she loved what he did to her, she loved what they did. She thought she heard the floor, the wooden floor, creak but was too much into her orgasm to care.