A Tail's Tale

The bathroom is prepared for a wonderful indulgence. The light is from candles, and a bit from the other room. The water is as hot as we like. The music in the background is our kind. Best of all, we're together. And we're nude. This delights her. It apparently delights him, too.

Standing together before stepping into the bath, they kiss. On her tiptoes, leaning against him for balance, she gently sucks his lower lip into her mouth, nibbling, kissing and tasting it. His urgency seems as strong as before, as his hand slips around her waist to pull her body closer to him. His tongue seeks her mouth, her tongue. Surrendering to the feeling, she wraps her arms around him. This dream is real it is true. He's all he promised and more. Her world shrinks and is now centered in the portions of their bodies that touch.

With her last ounce of will, she pulls back from him, laughs to lighten the mood and gently pushes him toward the steaming water. He loves the feel of a rough washcloth on his skin. Since one of the purposes of this sojourn was to get clean . . . she grabbed her new favorite scrubby and a bottle of body soap and, with a small smile to herself, a bar of soap for later.

This is one of her favorite things to do. It is such a wonderfully rewarding task. Some nice brisk scrubbing to start, scratch the back, play with the magnificent arms, reach around from behind to wash the chest, and belly. Her chest presses against his back and her nipples harden as they slip over his soapy skin.

Down his sides, both at the same time, slowly keeping contact with her breasts as her hands work downward, one to each leg's lateral aspect. Her breasts fall off his buttocks and her hands begin their trip up the inside of his legs. Reaching their apex, she scrubs a cheek with one hand while the other teases the seam of thigh and buttock, around to the front, brushing his ballsac with her finger tips. Teasing.

Her hands turn him around, letting the water play over his back, across his shoulders and down his belly. Her tongue slips between her lips and laps gently at his inner thigh, teasing the skin pendant between them. She grasps the base of his cock, her hand moving up the shaft, pulling the crown forward to her lips. His proud flesh jumps at her touch. Her tongue wets her lips and snakes forward to taste him. She can feel his eyes on her and looks up at him. Then her eyes close as she marvels in the sensation. Her free hand moves to his testicles and cups them gently, rolling them in her hand like steel marbles, her nails scratching lightly at the skin behind them. As her mouth slides over the head of his cock, sucking it into that warm, wet spot her hand tightens on the shaft and slides downward. She begins a slow metronomic motion with her mouth and hand, her hand gripping and releasing tension, her tongue teasing the tender spots. His back arches to provide more access. She can taste the salt of his excitement, the slightly slippery, sticky texture of his lubricant. She can feel him gathering himself to climax, the rippling muscle contractions in his stomach, his balls rising, hips beginning an involuntary movement toward release. She slides him gently from her mouth, grips him tightly at the base of his cock and listens to his moan.

Before he can grasp her head and bring her back, she rises, sliding her body up his, pulls him tightly to her, hips and belly pressing against his excitement, and turns her face up for a kiss. These are the best kisses. His urgent need infuses itself into his kiss, his arms and hands still tense hold her tightly to him as he devours her mouth and his free hand seeks her nipple. His hands grip her buttocks to lift her onto his waiting, throbbing cock. Before her feet lose purchase, she pushes gently back from him and continues the apparently all-consuming task of scrubbing his chest and belly, avoiding the dripping lance between them, pausing for slowing kisses which fade to tender as his excitement ebbs to tolerable.

She completes her washing task at the center of him. Abandoning the scratchy scrubby, she fills her hands with body wash and tenderly applies it to his groin, missing nothing. The light, slippery touches tease him again toward the edge, his already hard cock's veins standing in firmer relief, swelling of the shaft and crown. She steps to his side, straddling his leg and opens his stance to lubricate all of him, teasing and playing with his rosebud, pressing gently for entry, testing its tension, then slipping away to massage his prostate through the thin band of perineum between his bud and balls.

She hears and feels his responses to her touches and is wildly excited. She begins to stimulate herself on his leg as her hands work. Her moans of pleasure joining his. Her hand massages his now slippery sac with its contents sliding inside, continuing to stimulate his perianal region sliding between the two tender spots. As she nears her orgasm, she grasps his cock tightly and begins a terminal massage, quickly moving the length of it, and catching the sweet spot at its juncture with the crown and back down. Again he gathers himself for the plunge into nothingness, into everything. Again she stops him and herself, too.

They cling to each other, gasping. This time her kisses match his urgency. She holds him as if he will escape, trying to merge their very cells. An electricity passes between them with each touch, each movement of hand or body. Their minds focus on the centers of their need; speech is lost, voices punctuate breathing from time to time with gasps, groans and cries. One of her hands holding the back of his head and neck pulls his mouth to hers, straining with unreleased tension. Her hips grind against his. Her other hand strokes his skin, leaving electric tracks that feel icy in the cascade of hot water.

In an almost lightening move, he lowers himself to the floor, pulling her with him, shifting his body between her legs and impaling her on his rigid cock. The indicia of her need and the pleasure of him filling her echoes in the room in her cry. The orgasmic tension builds in her clit with each movement, spreading through the muscles in the floor of her pelvis swollen with blood and desire. Her thighs tense, pulling her off him and relax to drop her, pulsating onto him. His hips slam him into her fully with each motion. Their needs meet, cascading them into the oblivion of ecstasy. Their motion slows and ceases, the fall apart sucking air into their starved lungs as their bodies begin again to circulate energy throughout their bodies, not just their joining.

She moves to put her head against his shoulder and be held tenderly. The water still pouring over them, she laughs, "Well, there goes the hair style."

"I love you," he says, and kisses her with great tenderness and care.

"And I love you," she replies, snuggling her body to his.