A Valentines Bath

He closes the door gently, conscious of the hour and not wanting to disturb the other guest on this floor. He turns and she is standing in the entryway, back to him, looking over the room. He walks up to her, snaking his right hand around her waist, pressing against her. Before looking over her shoulder he takes a moment to inhale the scent of her hair. A hint of something floral, but it's light and he lets the fragrance infuse him. Still holding her to him he glances about, to see what she sees. He notes that the room is damn near the size of his house and extravagantly luxurious, "as well it should be for the price" his mind sneers at him. Being the third floor from the top and there being only two rooms on this floor, it cost near two weeks pay for the night. "And I'd pay three times that for this moment alone," he replies to himself, for he has the woman he might very well love right there in his arms, alone and secluded for the very first time.

That thought breaks his contentment as passion floods his mind and body. He fights down the need to take her right then, right there. Powerful as that need is, it is not what he wants. He wants their first time to be a joining, not a taking, and he hopes that she does too.

Bringing his left arm around he dangles the small bag she has brought. After she takes it he uses that same hand to pull her raven hair off the right side of her neck and whispers softly into her ear, "You slip into something more comfortable and I'll run you a bath." Then he runs his lips from bellow her ear to her shoulder just barely brushing her neck with his lips, and there, places a single kiss. With that he removes his arm from her and pads off to the door on his left.

Flipping the light switch on his way in he stops dead in his tracks. "Whoa" escapes his lips. The bathroom looks like something out of ancient Rome. The floor, three walls, and the tub are all white marble scored through with veins of dark blue. The fourth wall is a floor to ceiling, wall-to-wall piece of glass through which a stunning view of the city plays before his eyes.. But even this opulent spectacle can only hold his attention for a moment. Recovering his original intention he heads for the tub and turns on the water. While he is waiting for the water to heat up, he examines the thirty or so bottles of bath products on the shelf. There is everything from liquid soap to six different skin moisturizers. He quickly finds what he is looking for and begins to sample the bubble-baths. The third one smells similar to the Honeydew candles she likes, so he chooses that one. Idly he wonders how hot she would like the water. Shrugging to himself he thinks, easier to make it cooler then warmer. He adjusts the temperature so, pulls the stopper, and adds the bubble bath. That done, he stands and looks around again. Spotting a row of cloths hooks across from the shower stall he strolls over taking off the dinner jacket he's wearing, and deposits it on a hook. Undoing his cufflinks he starts rolling up his sleeves in anticipation of what's to come. He realizes that his shirt will end up soaked anyway, but while he is not exactly ashamed of his body, neither is he dying to show it off, especially in the glaring white light of this bathroom.

He turns just in time to see her walk through the door and stop. With one glance he takes in her magnificent beauty. She is standing there shyly, not quite sure of herself. But in his eyes she embodies the essence of Beauty itself. She is wearing a bright red silk kimono embroidered with golden dragons. A single strip of black silk, tied at the waist holds it closed, and it drapes to the middle of shapely thighs. Those beautiful legs lead down to feet that manage to be sexy without being cute. One slender toe adorned with a ring. Her breasts push against the silky fabric, tightening the collar and accentuating her delicate neck. Light freckles and Asian features offset by light brown eyes and a broad nose.

Then their eyes lock and

something

surges through space between them. It's like an emotional riptide has taken hold of him and he knows that she feels it too. He sees it in her eyes, in the slight tremor running through her body that isn't actually visible, but is there nonetheless. Most of all he can feel that she is caught in that same something. And in that moment he knows, knows with his whole being, that he has been right all along. That her soul cries out for him just as his does for her.

Without thinking he takes two quick steps to her, sweeping her into his arms he kisses her passionately. For a moment she doesn't react. She's never seen him move with more than languid speed, and she is caught off guard by the sudden burst of action. But only for a moment. Then she wraps her hands around him, and her lips relax returning the kiss with equal passion, and he feels her fall into him. In that embrace, with their bodies and tongues intertwined, their souls mingle, speaking without language, and this too he feels.

After a moment that defies any form of measurement a small voice reminds him how caught up he is and, worrying that he might be hurting her, he loosens his arms slightly. However, as he does, her grip upon him tightens with a small "uh" for emphasis. So he hugs her closer, trying to be firm but gentle. Through all this their kiss hasn't stopped, hasn't lost a shred of the intensity with which it began, as if it had a life all its own and refused to be denied.

Reality comes swimming back to him after a time and the sound of running water reminds him of the night ahead. It must have come back to her too, for they both relaxed their embrace as one. He looks down into her eyes and smiles, running a hand through her silky hair. Then he takes her hand in his and leads her to the tub. Without letting go of her hand he bends and turns off the faucet. A part of him is shocked that the whole bathroom isn't flooded. "Surely," he thinks, "it was longer than that." But it must not have been, because the bubble covered water is not quite to the top, steam and a light fruity sent wafting off it. Straightening, he stands facing her, hand still held gently in his.

"Do you—,", she begins. "Shhhh," he interrupts softly.

With that he slips around her left side and behind her. The hand holding hers never breaks contact as it slides up her silk-covered arm, across her shoulder blades, and down to her right hip. He encircles her waist once again, but this time, instead of pulling her to him, he takes up the strip of black silk and slowly undoes the knot. Hands gliding up to the collar he simply slides the kimono off her shoulders letting it puddle on the floor. The black veil of her hair hides the Japanese symbols on her back, but he knows they are there and this arouses him further. Again he steps up to her and for the third time tonight he wraps his hands about her waist from behind, and this time he does indeed tuck her into him. He knows she can feel his arousal and wonders if it excites her. "She obviously doesn't mind," he thinks with a mental chuckle as her head turns over her right shoulder and her right hand reaches up gripping the back of his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. But he has ideas of his own and diverts his head, lips connecting with her neck. He begins kissing her neck, starting just above the shoulder and slowly working his way up. With each contact he pulls slightly with his lips; nowhere near enough to leave a mark, but just enough to increase the pressure of each kiss, heightening and prolonging the sensuous feel. On the fourth one he gets a little moan. Shortly after that her grip on his neck tightens and he feels her left hand touch her belly and begin to slowly move down. He uses his left hand to intercept and intertwines his fingers in hers. He continues the attention to her neck for another few seconds then slips his right arm under the one she still grips his neck with, he reaches up, cupping her cheek and turns her head back towards him once more. This time he lets himself be guided to her lips and this kiss was, if at all possible, even more passionate then the last. This time when their lips part the "Whoa" comes from her, eyes searching his face to see if he feels the same. He does and hopes it shows.

By now his emotions are more then a little colored with lust. Every second is an exercise in self-control. But he refuses to give in. He knows he has all night and has no idea when he will have another. And although he plans a night of pampering like she has never experienced, his intentions are by no means pure, nor are his motives completely selfless. He has been dreaming of this night for almost a year now and plans to drag out the ecstasy as long as possible.

Moving back to face her, he holds out his arm for her to lean on and step into the tub. After she settles down into the water he grabs a bar of soap to begin the next phase of her seduction. He kneels down on the side of the tub. Reaching down through the bubbles he lifts her right arm and begins to run the bar down it in long strokes. He then runs both hands down her arm from top to bottom improvising a massage into wiping the soap from her. Instead of moving to the other side to do her left arm he slides down some and applies the same attentive care to her right leg, long strokes with the bar of soap followed by a massaging motion to wipe it away. He is very careful of where he is touching her, but twice he lets the backs of his fingers brush against her soft mound, both times being rewarded as a shiver of delight runs the course of her body. Not once has taken his eyes from hers, working by feel alone, and now he soaps his hands to a froth. He takes her foot and begins to massage it, first sliding his thumb lengthwise up the arch to loosen the tight muscles there. He continues by using both thumbs in long circular motions and then gently running each toe between his fingers to relax the tendons.

Her left foot gets the same kind of attention and he works his way back up the left side of her body. Finally he breaks eye contact as he stands and walks around the back of the tub. He picks it right up again though as he once more kneels on her right. Soap still in his right hand he reaches into the bubbles. This time he begins at her bellybutton. Rubbing the bar across her skin he is slowly moving upward to her breasts. He spends more time, and soap, than is actually necessary here, he thinks and can't quite suppress a mischievous smile. He lets the bar fall to the bottom and runs his hand over her mid-drift wiping away soap till once again he is at her breasts. He cups the left from underneath squeezing slightly as his hand runs up till he has her hard nipple between his fore finger and thumb. This, too, gets a squeeze. Not hard but not soft either, a good pinch that produces a gasp of pleasure from her. They have still been staring into each other's eyes, their hearts communicating through the connection there, just as their bodies are through physical contact.

So in-tune are they that when she moves he is already reacting. She reaches up and placing her hand behind his neck pulls him down to her. He willingly lets himself be guided, continuing to massage her breast as their mouths embraced. Her kissing is frantic this time and he feels her sweeping him up in her energy. The pace and ferocity of their kissing continues to build and he feels her breathing quicken. With perfect clarity he knows this is the moment, but before he has a chance to act, she takes matters in hand. His right hand is occupied rolling her nipple between his fingers when she takes it in hers and guides it down to the warmth between her legs. Slowly he begins to stroke her. Middle finger gliding between her lips, the slight roughness at the bottom of the knuckle stimulating her silky pearl. Fingers begin to move faster, stroking but never entering. Her body is reacting to his ministrations, hips moving to the rhythm he has set, water sloshing over the rim in the waves created. Her other hand has come up to encircle his neck as well and she moans into their kiss. Breaking their union her back arches and she whips her head back as a shudder begins to build within her. He knows what is coming. Knows how she wants it. Knows she needs that release. And knows for him to deny her would be cruel. But showing a heroic force of will, he does just that. As quick as can be he removes his hand from her, slides it under her legs, and scoops her out of the tub and into his arms.

She looks at him with bewildered shock that is underlined with desperate longing as he carries her to the shower stall, water marking their passage across the marble floor. He is as desperate to give her what she wants as she is to have it, and it takes a discipline he would have sworn he didn't have to resist giving what her eyes are all but begging for. He sets her feet on the bathmat and then pulls her to him. With one hand about her, he uses the other to flip the shower on and upon returning it, hugs her wet form tightly to his. He is indeed soaked now, but he hardly even notices it as she undoes one button of his shirt and moves the collar slightly off his neck.

He wonders if she has seen the pattern yet, but then she begins kissing his neck and all coherent thought is lost. He is instantly aroused to painful proportions and he feels her sway her body to rub against him, teasing him as he has her. As she does one hand slips down and caresses her ass, the other moving to message her breasts once more. He dips his head and lifting her breast up to meet him, he gives her nipple a flick of the tongue. Dissatisfied with her response, he takes the hard nub gently between his teeth and then sucks in hard. This elicits the gasp and shiver of ecstasy he is looking for. Not too be outdone, she too dips her head and bites his nipple thru is shirt. The bite is a little harder then necessary, but the pain is deliciously pleasant. Pain also has a way of focusing one's attention, and so it did. He remembers why he is standing in front of the shower and the next idea he's had, but with her nibbling on his neck, hand having moved bellow the waist to entice him further, the very idea of stopping now is horrifying.

"It's only fair after what I just did to her. Karma." He thinks. Fair being fair he (barely) reins himself in and pulls away slowly. She is looking at him with a smile now, and without him having to say a word steps into the shower. She soaks her hair thoroughly before selecting a shampoo from among the array of bottles and handing it to him. With that she turns around and steps forward enough to give him room behind her and have the water beat on her chest. Still clothed, but soaked through, he steps in behind her and begins to lather her hair. A bit more shampoo and her back and buttocks are soapy too. As he removes his hands she turns around as if by some unseen signal. And that is exactly what it was, he realizes. She feels his intentions now just as he feels hers. More than just intentions are flowing between them, though. Emotions: understanding, desire, caring, and a powerful warmth he thinks is love all rush from her soul to his, and mixed throughout this swirling exchange of each other is the knowledge that it is not a one-way connection. He steps up to her so their bodies touch. She tilts her head back till the water courses through her hair, but makes no other move. He runs his hands through her hair till the soap is gone, finishing the work he began in the bath. So too does he run his over her back and down her ass—

She jumps him. Literally. Just as his hands come to the bottom of her bottom, and with a little hop she throws her arms and legs around him simultaneously, the first about his neck, the second about his waist. His hands are perfectly placed and he takes it in stride, using them to help balance her weight. It is her turn to smile mischievously down at him and with a little twinkle in her eye she pounces on his lips. Her hands cradling his head and with his occupied elsewhere, he has little say in the matter, and her taking control excites him tremendously. She tilts his head back. Not roughly but firmly so there is no mistaking whose moment this is. The various wonderful things she does to lips, tongue, neck and even his earlobe are working him to a frenzy. He feels the pressure of passion straining the bonds of his self-control and knows that he cannot hold back much longer. Through that

something

they have established, he knows she feels his restraint crumbling and she attacks him with even greater vigor, now grinding herself against him as well.

There is not much he can do to hold off her lust short of physically removing her from him. And that might prove very hard indeed. His mind is not quite ready to relent however, and in a burst of inspiration he steps from the shower with her still wrapped around him. He doesn't know what he expects to do next as the cool air makes contact with skin, but then she takes him by surprise. Releasing her legs but not her arms, nor this kiss she is currently enticing him with, she lets him lower her to stand and after another moment of tongue-sucking she pulls back, running her hands down his arms and then releasing him completely.

He grabs a fluffy white towel and looks at her. She is looking back at him with a smile of warmth and that warmth of love increases in intensity between them as she turns her back to him. Starting on her hair to get it semi-dry, he thinks of how the night started with only a vague idea in his head of how to proceed and what it has grown into. He may have initiated the pattern of pampered teasing but it has continued this far by mutual agreement. Even by mutual participation, fore she is actively letting him do for her now, with full knowledge of his intentions. Of course that didn't mean she is going to sit back and take it quietly. No, she has amply demonstrated that she can give as good as she gets, and is more then willing to do so.

Hair now damp and manageable as opposed to soaked and dripping, he gives it a twirl then wraps it into a half-assed bun that will hold long enough to let him get on with things. He tosses away the now soppy towel and retrieves a fresh one. Still content to let him be about it, she remains there as he begins to towel the water from her back. Working his way down he does her back down to the bottom of her firm cheeks but stops there. Anticipating, she now turns back to face him. Again he retrieves a fresh towel to begin with. He gently pats the moisture that has not been shed during their previous activities from her face and neck. Then starting at the shoulders he goes down each arm in turn, making sure to get underneath the arms and be gentle there. Tossing away yet another towel he uses the third on her belly first, rubbing the water away in little circles. He sees the anticipation of what's to come in her eyes. She is hypersensitive to every little touch now. Reveling in the sensations as she stands there letting him toy her body to new levels. Running the almost dry towel diagonally up and across one already erect nipple, her eyes close involuntarily, she sways just a bit and it for a moment it looks like her knees are going to buckle, but she regains control quickly enough, pleasure dancing across her face. More time is spent here, using the towel to at once dry and tease her breasts, the cycle starting anew.

The rush pounding at him as he watches her is making him heady. He feels her passion building again. Not back at the beginning but close to where she left off. He knows he doesn't have much time. Kneeling in front of her he looks up into her eyes once more. The need to rush is pushing at him. Not just his own, but hers as well. The passion coursing between them is almost tangible as sexual energy radiates off of her in waves, but he resists the urge as he has done before. Taking his time he works the towel between her legs, the top brushing her as he goes by to the back of her leg. This time he actually sees her left knee give a little and the shiver is more of a trembling, lasting significantly longer. Still he goes about the business of drying her leg. Taking her hand and placing it on his shoulder for her to balance he lifts her leg to get the bottom of her foot and between the toes. He is being extravagant now because an idea has burned thru the lust-passion-desire-love-affection-pleasure that has saturated his being. He repeats the procedure with her right leg, taking care this time to not graze her mound, and as he sets her foot back down he intentionally gives it a little nudge to make it land wide. Thrown slightly off balance she straightens to correct automatically. This leaves her, luckily and as planned, standing straight with her legs spread wider then is normal, and in that instant he moves his face into her and runs his tongue along her delicate crease.