With local conventions happening all over the city, this week has been pretty busy at work as I am the concierge at a very high-class hotel,
Il Giardino Rose.
After a full week of making dinner reservations, giving directions to here or there, recommendations of where to get the best pasta, or what movie theatre offers the best concession choices, I am more than happy to arrive home and take off my polyester standard grey suit jacket and pencil skirt, pull out the pin holding my hair in a tight bun, and take off the modest business appropriate heels that have been killing my feet since noon.
So lost in my thoughts of work and scheduling everything, I never even heard the sounds of the shower running, my very delicious, trim husband undoubtedly naked. I remove the remainder of my
clothes,
proud of my clean treasures and humble B-cup beauties.
Walking into the remarkable marble and white stone bathroom Quill had given me as a wedding gift three years ago, my small footsteps are muffled by the soft sounds of our rainfall shower head. Catching a glance, I notice that my lover's at full mast as is, knowing that means two things; the first being that he's thinking about something, likely me, in romantic, maybe naughty, context, and secondly that only good things are in store. My husband doesn't notice me standing at the open doorway until I reach out and gently touch his arm. He turns to face me and I let him look me up and down taking in my bare form, then I quietly offer, "I thought you might want some company," gingerly stepping in to join him when he responds, "Yours? Always," tipping my chin up as we move in to each other for a kiss.
Moving closer also means letting the warm water slide down my skin and caress my body whilst we kiss. I feel it drip down my back and slip into the crevice between my cheeks. The combined sensations of that and the sparks I still feel every time my husband and I put our lips together sends sensual shudders through me.
I grasp his shaft with one hand, cradling his sack with the other, slowly stroking up then down as our mouths carry on. After the briefest pause for air, Quill leans towards me again, kissing me with open lips as his hands hold my small breasts. I kiss him right back in the same manner, entangling my tongue with his as my husband's fingers trace the contour of my chest.
Wordlessly, I place a hand square in the center of his toned pecs, tenderly pressing him back to the bench built into our shower for leg shaving and such, lowering to my knees on the smooth stone floor. Then I wrap my fingers around his base and gradually, softly kiss the head of his beautiful dick, staring into his eyes. Then I kiss it again, moaning, "It's so magnificent Honey," my finger tracing over the tip. I lick it teasingly, his cock jumping a little as if being shocked. Next I swirl my tongue all around it like most do with leaking ice cream cones. I love twirling my tongue around the pronounced edge where the shaft becomes the head. I retract my tongue and sit back on my knees looking up at his face again.
Quill then gathers all of my now-soaked hair, holding it over my shoulder as I lightly hold his cock straight up against his stomach, dragging my tongue up from balls to head, before wrapping my lips around it, my hand taking hold of the shaft, as I deliver my best work to date.
As I finish with his wonderful hard on, I drag my tongue up his entire body then plunge it deep into his mouth, holding each side of his face while his muscled arms lock around me, straddling his lap on the bench. My husband tightens his hold even more before reaching lower and slapping his enlarged cock on my ass. I take the hint, smiling onto his naughty lips, rising just enough so that he can lead his cock toward my pussy and ease myself right down on him.