Lights dimmed, candles lit, music playing, he glanced around the room. Everything in its place, he began to disrobe. The clock—an old grandfather given as an anniversary present—chimed seven. First the tie, a solemn black, then the Oxford button down, and finally the Italian leather belt trailed in his wake. The marble tub gleamed and winked as it slowly filled with steamy water. As the tendrils of heat rose off the water, the moist sultry air caressed his naked chest.
He sat on the toilet, removed his socks and threw them into the bedroom. His shoes followed haphazardly. He stood then and stretched; a perfect ripple of masculinity gliding down his body starting at his shoulders and ending at the small of his back. His pants were already unbuttoned. Completing the half-finished task, he unzipped them and in one fluid motion, he removed both pants and briefs. He stood quietly as the mist began to engulf him. It was a pleasurable sticky feeling. Sweat beaded and rolled down his chest into his navel. There was a pool of moisture gathered at the base of his back, sliding into the cleft of his ass. It reminded him of his first time—the heat, the moisture, the anticipation. The clock chimed. It was now seven-thirty. The water parted gently as he stepped into the tub. Silence continued to tick away when the faintest jingling of keys could be heard. The door sighed seductively as it opened. The mistress was home.
"Thought I'd keep it warm for you."
She stood in the doorway clad in the sheerest panties and his solemn black tie. It hung loosely around her neck just barely touching her erect nipples.
"Will you wash my back?" Anticipation deepened his request.
"Why should I?" She glanced into the tub. "You didn't wait for me."
Crouching down, she ran her fingers through the water grazing hiserection.
"If I promise to make it up to you, will you scrub my back?" A slow smile migrated from his eyes to his lips as he ran his damp fingertips across her extended nipples.
"Perhaps I'll go and visit some of my other friends. Maybe then you won't be so cocky." She grasped him fully and began to stroke him.
"I thought you liked me cocky." A deep groan worked its way through his clenched teeth.
"Not cocky dear." She smiled as he began to spill. "Just cock."
He looked at her through semi-sated eyes. "What other friends?"