No Going Bac

Roger was standing next to the tub which was filled with bubbles. He had taken off all his clothes, except for a black pair of briefs. I watched your eyes to see the reaction, and I saw with pleasure that you were not disappointed. I could tell the first things you noticed were his strongly muscled legs. Swimming, his favorite exercise, had maintained their strength in ways that I knew you couldn't yet appreciate.

The next thing I saw you notice also pleased me. You scanned his broad shoulders and chest, then I saw your gaze stop on the hair that grew on his chest. It was almost entirely white. But then you noticed, the less thick, almost delicate hair on his stomach was nearly black. It was one of my favorite contrasts, and I found myself looking forward to the moment when you would find on his body yet another color hair. I almost blushed to realize what I was anticipating.

"Are you ready to slide into this delicious water?" Roger asked with a smile. I saw you realize that he expected you now to take off your robe, and I could tell you were a little scared. He could tell, also, and he smiled again. "Let me turn my back while Katie helps you," he said, and he walked to the window of the bathroom and looked out.

You and I were facing each other. I reached to untie the loose knot of your robe and as it released, I opened your robe, baring your body. I hesitated for a moment, to see if you would be too embarrassed to let me do that, and you did tense, but you didn't protest. I took a quick look at your body, noticing the marks of childbirth and of age. They were familiar marks, marks I, too, bore, and I felt a warm connection with how you must feel, standing naked in front of me.

"You are truly beautiful," I said, and I meant it. You smiled, knowing what I meant, and grateful for what we shared. I pushed the robe back off your shoulders, and as you turned, I slid it off your arms and moved to hang it on the hook behind the door. When I turned back, you had slid under the bubbles in the tub, and only your head and shoulders were still visible above the suds.

"Ready?" Roger asked with pleasure in his voice. He walked over to the tub and sat on the edge, his hips near your head. "Let me have the soap, OK?" He dipped his hand with the soap in the water, lathered up both hands, and reached gently to place his hands on your shoulders. I smiled to myself, knowing that his talented fingers were about to make you very happy.

Without words, he began to massage your shoulders. His fingers were gentle, but firm, and in less than thirty seconds, I could see you began to relax. His hands, I knew, had almost a magical quality to them. I sometimes thought his touch actually generated some kind of electric current, but I knew it was only his uncanny ability to express whatever he was feeling through his touch.

It was delightful to watch his hands at work. I often watched them in the car as he drove. It was almost possible, if I let myself go, to imagine my body as the steering wheel. That is how much I enjoyed what his hands were capable of doing. This, however, was the first time I'd ever seen his hands on the body of another woman. I took a deep breath and waited, wondering if I was really ready for this. It was the look on your face that convinced me I was.

The smile on your face was angelic. I don't know if you already felt safe with Roger, if my sitting there beside the tub made it all OK, or if his hands affected you the way they did me. All I knew was that you were happy with what he was doing.

After several minutes of massaging your shoulders and your neck, Roger put one hand behind your neck, the other one high on your chest, and then he pushed gently on your chest until you were leaning back against the end of the tub. He then began to run his fingers over and around the front of your neck, up to your chin, along the sides of your face, across your forehead, down along your cheeks, and around and around your face in random ways. I saw all the tension leave your features. I saw you relax fully. It was beautiful.

Roger was now using one hand to stroke your face, and the other hand rested lightly on your chest. The fingers on your chest were drawing little designs on your breastbone, so lightly that I wasn't even sure you noticed. Finally, he allowed his fingers to trace the center line of your body, down, down, down beneath the bubbles toward your tummy. I couldn't tell how far his hand traveled, but I expect his hand reached barely to your navel, then retraced his path to a spot between your breasts.

You opened your eyes, not startled, but curious. I saw Roger's eyes meet yours. I saw him wait, for your permission. You closed your eyes, your lips in a comfortable smile. Roger turned to look at me, and I gave him the same smile. The steam rose from the water in the tub. Roger turned back to you and moved both hands to your chest.

For a moment, he used the fingers on both hands to play along your breastbone, as if it were a delicate piano. Then, he reached across your body, and forming a semi-circle with his fingers, he outlined the far swell of your right breast. Parting his hands, his fingers followed the upper and lower contours, meeting again at the center of your chest. A brief hesitation, then he continued toward his side of your body, again outlining the top and bottom of your left breast, his fingers meeting on your left side.

Next, he reached across again, placed his fingers as before, and moved around the swell of your right breast. This time, I could tell the distance between his fingers on top and those on the bottom was smaller, closer to your nipple. I was sure your sensed the difference, too, especially as he continued along your left breast, again with his fingers closer to your nipple than the first time.

Several more repetitions, and his fingers were now sliding directly across the softest areas of your flesh, barely millimeters from the edges of your hardening aureoles. Your eyes were tightly closed now. I knew you were lost in anticipation, eager for what you expected to come next.

He stopped for a moment, then placed one finger on your right breast, just below the nipple. Slowly then, he began using that one finger to circle the nipple, so close to touching it, but not yet, not quite. Then the other breast, circling, circling.

I could see your breathing getting deeper. I knew you must be feeling so wonderful. Finally, after paying full attention to both breasts, several times each, without warning, he allowed one finger to move directly across the nipple itself. The change caught you by surprise, and I heard you moan softly. I actually felt a surge of electricity in the pit of my own stomach.

It was a new and incredibly intense experience to watch this happening. Then, Roger made the experience even more so. He reached out, took my hand, extended my index finger, and drew my hand to your breast. He placed the tip of my finger just below your left nipple, then moved one of his own fingers to the other breast. He smiled at me, nodded, and ran his finger directly across the center of your nipple. You gasped, but before you even finished the breath, I used my finger to do the same on the other nipple. Your entire body shuddered.

We began playing gently with your nipples, avoiding the swollen centers, but teasing the hard aureoles with the most insistent of caresses. Before long, your entire body seemed to be vibrating, and I could tell your legs were moving rhythmically beneath the water. I wondered if you were opening and closing your legs, and I found to my surprise, I wished I could see under the bubbles.

Taking my cue from Roger, we both began alternating caresses of your nipples with gentle pinches and pulls. You were now actually whimpering, and I felt a wetness beginning between my legs. This was so surprising to me, I'd never imagined reacting this way. Roger now stood and moved around me to kneel near the middle of the tub. He took my other hand and moved it to your breasts, and I continued exciting you, the very first time I'd ever touched another woman's breasts like this.

I watched as he slid his hands beneath the water, and I knew his fingers had found your tummy when I felt your hips rise to meet them. He rested one hand gently on your stomach, and I saw the other hand move to the area of your knees. He waited a moment, until your attention returned to the effect my fingers were having, then I saw him move the hand beneath the water near your knees. I heard a low moan come from deep in your throat, and then I saw the bubbles move as your knees separated and your thighs opened.

His right hand began moving, tracing designs on your lower belly. I knew it was circling, moving lower, gradually approaching the spot where your hair began. I could sense the moment when he felt the first hairs and began moving his fingers side to side, following the triangle formed by your neatly trimmed bush. I know how much I loved how it felt when his fingers did that to me, and again I felt a rush of excitement, knowing what you must be feeling.

Both of his hands were in action now. I could tell his left hand had moved above your knees and was touching your inner thighs. Any resistance you might have had was now completely gone. You breasts were nearly reaching for my fingers as I touched you, and I could tell your legs were spread wide open under the water. You were ready for his hands to touch you . . . there . . . and I knew he wouldn't make you wait, not when you were this ready.

His hand moved higher between your legs. I saw that it came close, then retreated, came close, then retreated. Then, he moved his hand higher, hesitated, and I saw him reach for you, exactly where you wanted. Your mouth opened and your head began moving slowly side to side. I could only imagine what he was doing to you under the water, between your legs. From your reactions, I was shocked to realize how close you were already. I could tell this was happening quickly, the situation was so erotic, you were nearly there from his first touch.

Roger could tell exactly what he was doing to you. He nudged me away from you, and my hands left your breasts. He touched you for a moment longer, then left his hand where it was, but shifted his knees and moved closer to the head of the tub. He reached for your face with his right hand and caressed your cheek. You opened your eyes and he bent down and touched his lips to yours. Your mouth opened and I saw your tongues meet before both sets of lips sealed themselves to each other.

Your body tensed. I thought it was going to happen. Then, Roger stopped. His left hand slid up your body, across your tummy, up to your chest where he ran his fingers across and around each nipple, then up to join the other hand encircling your face. Your eyes opened to find his staring warmly into yours.

"It's time, my dear, to get out of the tub and come to bed," he said with a smile. "Will you join me? Will you join . . . us?"