Our Tub

Since I list in my profile that I am happily married, several readers of my first story asked that I write about my wife. This story is a tribute to my wife and explores one of my favorite memories, a bathtub adventure.

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There are moments in your life when certain inanimate objects inherit importance and meaning beyond their mere physical presence. I'm not talking about meta-physics, though in a sense these things gain in importance, beyond their ordinary form and purpose. What I am talking about is the ability of ordinary things to become extraordinary in the minds of two people.

Couples share something special that brings them together. It is ethereal and hard to capture, but occasionally it can be infused into a time or a place. Like a crystal snowball, one can shake it up, look inside, and recreate the feelings. In a sense, the moment becomes captured by the place and the feelings become a part of the thing. Sometimes it is a song, sometimes a 65 Mustang convertible, maybe it is a perfume that always seems to "get you in the mood."

Even a favorite pair of panties that signals "I'm in the mood" can become part of a private language between lovers. These things are very private, hidden secrets we all share; the source of many all-knowing glances, and for the smart, a source of everlasting renewal and arousal in their relationships.

This story is about a special room, and in particular a bathtub that has wonderful memories for my wife and I. It is about a time when all was good with the world and the memory-ball, when shaken, always shows me smiling and happy. Though that house was sold long ago, the memory remains; a magic source of arousal, love, and renewal.

* * *

I picture my love, light streaming from behind her curly brown hair. Steam rises gently above the water of our tub; bubble bath adds an exotic scent of lavender to the air. My attention seems riveted in the moment and all my senses are focused on her as she slowly unclasps her black lace bra and her full breasts settle forward.

I see her arousal in the tight pucker of her areola, even though the room is warm. It amazes me how time seems to last forever as the tight silk slowly becomes lax, and with apparent unwillingness to leave her smooth skin, finally falls down her arms and gently falls to the floor. She smiles at me and time regains its normal pace. I clumsily ditch my boxers while her Black lace panties float down her legs, like a feather, to the ground.

I am excited already. In my mind I know what my lover is telling me that I am in for a long awaited night of passion. Those telltale black panties speak volumes to me in our secret language of love. All I need are those panties and a bath to know for sure that it will be a special day for us both.

My penis extends proudly as my boxers are kicked aside. He bounces as I walk, with apparent glee. Like me he knows he is in for some special attention; he knows the signs too, probably even before they consciously register in my mind. For a moment we stand together, our nakedness mirrored in each other's eyes. Aroused nipples, erection, swollen lips; they all flicker in the light of our bathroom, in the light of our bathroom candles, and in our reflection in the many bathroom mirrors.

I look at us. I see in the mirror of my mind that we are young and that our hard bodies are our beautiful gifts to each other. Her skin is a soft, hips beautifully curved, a treasure for my eyes. I feel strong with her, my shoulders look broad and strong. My erection is eager to combine with her beauty. Both of us share brown hair, fair skin, and green eyes. Friends tell us we could be brother and sister if we weren't kissing so often. I wonder to myself how I could have managed to win the love of such a perfect match.

Swelling my chest I quietly admire my own erect penis jutting from the reflection in the mirrors. He looks "ready to go" and I like the way it stands proudly pointing at my lover. An average sized penis I secretly fancy that it looks huge and threatening in the reflection. Frankly I think he looks damn pretty, symmetrical and proud, though I would never admit it to anyone. Flexing my arms I pose for my beautiful wife in the way that men do. Of course she laughs at me and slides into the tub.

My heart snuggles closer to hers as my body joins her in the tub. I slide into the hot water, facing her. A blanket of rich lavender-scented bubbles tops us both with the sensuous warmth bringing smiles to our lips. We relax in the warm water. Above us beautiful stained glass windows cast a rainbow on our precious bathtub, reflected by the candles. The windows are a source of pride to us, as we painstakingly built them together at a local community college class. Their silhouette casts colorful light on our skin. Our legs intertwine. We play like two seals in heat, slipping and sliding.

I grab the toy boats we bought at a fair, one of wood, and one plastic with Sesame Street characters along for the ride. She laughs as they circumnavigate my erection as it bobbles in the water. Facing each other, our legs entwined, touching, the boats navigate through the dangerous straights of our legs, heading to parts unknown. Soap is only an afterthought as we touch, smile, rub and relax.

As our skin turns soft, we finally rise from the cooling waters. I dry her naked skin with a fluffy towel. She stands above me and I admire her soft brown pubic hair gently covering her swollen lips. I kiss her belly and secretly plan my future ravishment of her body.

"Soon," I think.

My plan is to tease her first, just a bit. And then make her come like never before. It is the same plan as last time, creativity not always being the best source of fun. Of course the best laid plans oft go astray. My lips hint at what is to come and I plant a soft kiss on her sex.

I take her hand and lead her to the bedroom and lift her in my arms. We collapse onto our comforter and snuggle, kissing with passion. I can still see the light of the stained glass as it shines through doorway. The sound of the tub draining intermingles with the soft music from our CD player, reminding me of the oceans. The clean scent of our skin perfumes our kisses.

When I think the time is right, my mouth traces down her body. Eager to hear her moan, I slide over her, positioning my hips so her hand can grasp my erection, I kiss her thighs and tease with small kisses. My lips move down her leg as I nuzzle under her kneecaps with my nose. It is a place that she is very sensitive and I know she will squirm. She squirms, much to my devilish pleasure. Finally her back tenses and her hips rise forward, from my teasing kisses and her own readiness. I massage her round bottom and slowly, with purpose, my tongue penetrates her lower lips and sweetly sucks at her moisture. She groans as I flick her clit lightly, my mouth surrounding her sex. Her hand grasps at my penis, clutching. She holds on but does nothing to make me come. In a few minutes I can tell that her mind is drifting off. She is full of lust, not thinking, just enjoying my mouth moving. Rhythmically I press her. My mouth and her hand finally synchronize, and I know I am about to push her over the edge. My lower lip rubs her nub with rhythmic grace, she shudders, and the enfolding of her beautiful orgasm fills me with pride.

Gently I hold her with my mouth, moving only a little to ride the "after shocks" of her spasms. My penis is swollen with waiting; pulled tight by her touches; full of blood. I know that she loves having me hard for her, loves making me wait while she comes. I know she loves my eager arousal when we finally make love.

Turning around, I kiss her neck. She smiles as she breaths in as the musky scent of her juices on my lips. Her scent mingles with the perfume of the bubble bath. Our damp hair casts a cool spot on the pillow an in our hands as we kiss each other, but we hardly notice. I whisper into her ear, "I love you" as my penis slides into her, inch by inch. Slowly we ride each other in and out. I twist and slide, urge her back to the top of that hill, pushing as she receives me. We enjoy the slick pleasure of driving each other crazy, but not trying not to enjoy it too much, so that the edge will last. Sometimes it happens quickly, sometimes only after a long ride, but always I eventually slide over that edge.

How do I describe the sensation of a penis sliding inside his lover, wet and hot from orgasm? All I can say is that it feels like my whole spine is extending into my lover. My penis is directly connected to my brain and all is good with my mind. But too much pleasure needs an outlet, and I let it out, the orgasm hits me with a wrenching shudder. My penis warms, she warms, I feel her grasps me and I swell. Pumping through it I ride with my love. She pulls me close, hugs me and grinds away to her own smaller shudder.

* * *

This is the memory I wanted to share. The memory of a special place and thing that always brings my wife and I closer together. When I think of our special bathtub in our special room it never fails to warm my heart.

The stained glass is a symbol of our unity, in that we painstakingly built together, piece by piece. They symbolize how we make beautiful things together and were a tough project (lots of little cuts on our fingers). The windows also make us laugh because we had to make them to bring light to our bathroom. The room had been perpetually dark because our house looked directly at our neighbors, so the blinds were always closed. The tub is special because we love bathing together and when we looked at this house, the extra-long tub was the final selling point for us. We shared a knowing glance and said we'd take it.

Today it all belongs to someone else. The tub and windows went with the house and are only a memory. Our new house is much nicer. We live in a nicer location, but the tub is a time and place that lives forever in my heart.

One of my favorite things is to ask couples how they met each other. I really like it when their eyes light up and they tell their romantic story. It's sweet, even when they laugh or blush and admit, "Oh, I just bought her a drink at a bar." Usually somewhere, for them, there is something special; a catalyst, an object. Something with hidden beauty, only for them.