Getting Ready 9

It had been a long day; not really a bad one, just long. Most likely it was due to my being distracted by plans for the evening ahead with some old friends. It was a week previous that our friends Sandy and Tim let us know that they were going to be spending this coming weekend in our city and wondered if Bill and I had plans. It wasn't only going to be the two of them, since Sandy had already arranged with Barb, another old classmate to meet in a local motel for an informal reunion. Sandy's job had her making the trip and since her project was going to bridge over the weekend, she convinced her husband Tim to join her.

When Sandy first called, I was immediately excited about their plans and anxious to see my old friends again. It wasn't long though before I began to wonder about Sandy's husband, Tim, a guy that she had met and started dating while we were in college together. All of we girls thought that Sandy had found herself a great guy, someone that seemed to dovetail nicely with Sandy's interests and attributes. And on top of everything else, he was the cutest and most handsome guy that she had ever dated. In a word, it was hard for us all to not be jealous.

Many memories of times past had crept into my head all day, recalling things done years before in and around our school days. After school, we had all scattered in different directions and as always happens, keeping in touch and staying close had become increasingly challenging. It was all of these thoughts that had been swirling around in my head all day, providing some welcome distraction from the normal day-to-day activities at my place of employment.

In fact I had been so busy daydreaming on my drive home from work that I had completely forgotten about my husband Bill's deck project at home until I had actually pulled into the driveway. It was only then that I remembered he had taken the day off to remodel the well used and worn deck in the backyard of our recently purchased, older home.

I had no sooner pulled into the driveway when Bill came bursting around the corner, anxious to proudly show me the results of his efforts all day. The day had been quite warm and Bill's T-shirt was very obviously evidence of his work on our back yard project. He had a big, though tired looking smile, a very good sign and just that much nicer a greeting upon my return home.

"How was your day Vicky? I was really anxious to tell you how things were going and then when I didn't hear anything, figured that you must have just been too busy to call. Anyway, the part over there that was in fact more solid went much better than I expected it would, making things so much easier than I had thought."

We had talked at length during our planning for the project and I knew that he was very apprehensive about demolition of a newer section of the deck that was adjacent to our garage. His concern about disrupting things that he didn't want to get stuck with re-doing was something that had come up often. Now I was pleased that it had, in fact, gone better than expected. I told him that everything would be OK and as usual, his early concerns were unfounded. Honestly, we had been through this sort of thing many times during our time together and I think it was his way of pushing himself to carefully plan and be prepared in order to alleviate any chance of things going wrong. He was talented and capable; his work all day a testament to just one more of his talents.

I smiled in acknowledgement and winked, which was our little signal that quietly said, "See? I told you so; nothing to have worried about."

"Hon, I'm going in to get changed and put my sweats on; it's way too hot out here in the sun like this," I complained.

"Are you still heading downtown tonight to meet with Sandy and Tim?" he asked me.

"I am, Sandy and Barb said they'd be there around eight."

We had discussed Bill's going along but both decided that since the group had planned something more formal for Saturday evening, his joining us tonight was totally up to him and his schedule. Tim had already told Sandy that he was going out car shopping and as long as Bill didn't really know my friends all that well, showing up as a couple tonight just wasn't that important. It would have been nice, but for him to break away from his project was just unnecessary, especially considering that he seemed as though he was still in the mood to keep working.

"You guys won't miss me then?" he asked, more out of kindness than out of uncertainty.

"No, it's OK. Things are going so well here that you should just stick with the deck. Besides, you'll get enough of us tomorrow," I assured him with a mischievous smile.

He looked up, smiling back and I headed inside to get changed.

Just as I was reaching for the door, Bill asked, "What time are you heading out again?"

"I don't know, around seven-thirty, seven forty-five, something like that."

"Sounds good," as he turned and returned to his task.

Happy to be in the house and out of the warm sunshine, I headed for the bedroom. I had worn an outfit that wasn't exactly warm summer attire and my time out in the yard made it feel like I was in some sort of shrink wrap, so heading into the bedroom to peel off my work clothes couldn't happen fast enough as far as I was concerned.

Finally in my old well worn sweatpants and T-shirt, I walked back to the kitchen to check out the day's mail. With nothing very interesting or unusual, I set it back down and walked over to the refrigerator for a chilled glass of water. Water in hand, I eased past the mail piled on the kitchen table, grabbed two of the new magazines and headed for the coolness of the living room, anxious to spend some time paging through for a quick check of what might look interesting.

After paging through the first magazine and perusing the headlines that interested me, I reached for the second one, having saved my favorite for last and as I did so, heard the back door open. Sounds told me that the bathroom door then closed and I flipped through a few more pages.

I was surprised when I heard water start running in the bathroom, especially so when my ears told me that the tub was being filled. Assuming that Bill's day had suddenly been long enough for him, I didn't think much about it and then it suddenly dawned on me that it was still early and from what he had said earlier, it sounded like he still planned on working for a number of hours yet. I realized that possibly he had hurt himself badly enough to quietly though quickly, head for the bathroom where he could start his own first aid, keeping it to himself.

I jumped off the chair and headed for the bathroom door and speaking loudly enough for him to hear me over the cascading water, asked "Honey, are you OK in there?"

"Yeah Vic, I'm fine, why?"

"Are you sure? I was just surprised that you were in so early and worried that maybe something bad had happened," the concern in my voice obvious.

"No, no, it's OK. Things went so well today that I figured I've earned a break," he assured me.

"All is well, not to worry".

"OK, good."

As I was heading back to the living room, my heart stopped as I heard Bill again.

"Vicky, come back to the door, OK?"

Just as I was reaching for the door knob, the door opened far enough for his face to appear, with his lips ready for a kiss and his eyes closed. I leaned to the cracked door and his tongue guided my opened lips to his. With my face pressed into the door jamb, Bill whispered, "thank you."

Bill closed the door; I smiled to myself, and then walked back to the living room to continue with my magazines.

I had no sooner sat down than I looked up and saw Bill walking toward me, wearing only a pair of too-worn shorts and just possibly the look of sex on his face.

Smiling to myself, I wondered, "Wouldn't it be too bad if he were in the mood for a quick fuck?" Hearing the word in my brain and quickly considering his accomplishments for the day easily convinced me that he had earned one. It wasn't like the idea sounded like a bad thing.

Standing up, I expected an attempted kiss. Instead, he took my hands and guided me back down into the chair. Walking around and behind the chair, he bent down to whisper in my ear.

"I have plans for you," he said, slowly and very deliberately.

Feeling his lips on my ear would have been enough to make my skin tingle, but the soft touch of his lips on my ear and his gentle words had me suddenly feeling that I was in a much smaller place than our medium sized living room.

Being touched was one of the things that Bill loved the most and no, that wasn't just my giving him a blow job. He enjoyed touching me even more; something that drew us together from the beginning and quickly became an important part of our love making. No one I had ever been with enjoyed foreplay like Bill did and we made easy work of exploring each other's body with new ways of connecting.

I was being touched, right in the nape of my neck. The feeling was so subtle that I wasn't even sure what I was being touched with. It didn't feel like his tongue; that would have been wetter. His fingers were always more calloused; surely what touched me must be softer than any part of his hand. With imagination spinning faster, my head tipped forward and eyes closed.

The only perceptible sound in the house was that of running water. Wait! Running water??

"Bill, the tu---", I started, but his hand reached around, his index finger muffling my lips, the rest of his fingers encasing my chin; his little finger making contact low on my neck. With his touch on my neck I couldn't even speak.

"Give me your hand," was all he said.

So I did.

He led me into the bathroom, past the tub, then over in front of the linen closet door. Facing me against the door, he placed my left hand at shoulder height, against the door. Reaching around behind me, and then sliding to my right side, he whispered in my right ear as he placed my other hand evenly with the first, against the door.

"Relax, be quiet and let me do the work," were the words that gently crept into and against my right ear. I was melting. Knowing Bill as I did my guess that a quick fuck in the afternoon was clearly a mistaken one.

I sensed Bill move away, then heard the tub's water stop running. Suddenly the room went silent and another chill ran up my spine. The candles were burning and the room smelled like I wanted my heaven to smell.

A warm breath of air suddenly hit my lower back, obviously bare from my arms lifted against the closet's door. The lightweight T-shirt that I was wearing had risen above the waistband of my sweatpants and I could see in my mind's eye the same small band of bare skin that Bill was seeing. Obviously now on his knees behind me, his face just behind my ass was almost more than I could stand. I could feel warmth between my legs that was completely my own.

My eyes closed and my chin fell against my chest. Bill's thumbs were on my lower spine, his fingers rising under the bottom of my sweatshirt, his large hands spanning around to the sides of my back completely. His thumbs began to leapfrog over each other, the fingers moving up in unison on alternate sides. Up on the right side, up on the left, all of this under my T-shirt.

As his right hand grazed the side of my breast, I simply had to turn around. Before I could turn half way, one of his hands came out from under my shirt and wrapped around the back of my neck, gently facing me forward again.

"No Vic, my rules this time; hands against the wall."

I could feel something wet in my panties. Bill knew me well enough to most likely suspect it too.

I sensed him moving to stand up, and then felt him press against the left side of my back. The words, "I'm going to touch you, everywhere......" a pause, followed up with, "except for maybe a few spots where you'll want to be touched the most."

So this was his plan. I was already craving more than I was getting and was certain that things had only just begun.

Going down on his knees behind me again, I felt Bill's hands touch my back, one of his left fingers stroking along the waistband of my pants. His hand was large enough for his thumb to be grazing the bottom of my left ass cheek, almost as if he were measuring the span. He wasn't squeezing, only rubbing back and forth. I found myself thinking about what he was and was not feeling. I had pulled on a pair of my bikini panties after work, rather than a thong and I'm sure that he was very aware of where both seams wrapped across my soft flesh, between the palm of his hand and thin material of my sweats.

Now I could feel a finger on the right side, using the bottom leg hole of my panty as a guide to trace along. He was reaching all the way around in front along the bottom, stopping around the curve, just before his finger started a vertical path. He had almost reached the absolute inside of my leg when he suddenly reversed and started back around.

Realizing that my legs were much closer together than I wanted them to be, I discreetly tried to ease them apart, worried that Bill would stop me. Assuming that I might be able to get away with sliding my left leg out without reprimand, I started the move when his hand abruptly left his almost complete wrap of my left ass cheek, dropped to my thigh and restrained any further movement.

The message was obvious and clear.

His grip then relaxed and now both hands were drawing imaginary lines on the outside of my pants, outlining the underwear beneath. His index finger and thumb moved very slowly on both sides, I'm sure his image of what was hidden inside positive.

"The pink ones?" he quietly asked.

It took me a moment to think, remember and then respond. I slowly shook my head to answer him.

"Hmmmm."

He rubbed some more, sometimes his fingers outside one layer of fabric, sometimes two, but still following the lines closely.

"Ah, the yellow ones?" he probed again, this time sounding much more certain.

I immediately felt another surge between my legs and it most certainly was not bad. This time I acknowledged his correct guess with only a soft moan, somewhat surprised though pleased that he likely knew as much about my lingerie as I did, quite possibly more.

The lines being drawn alternated between more and less pressure, almost going completely around both legs, though never quite finishing each thigh's circumference. The stroking was never heavy and sometimes so light as to be imperceptible. I knew from vast experience that the light touches were more difficult to administer, something that normally worked in my favor. I was ready to be fucked, the sooner the better.

"I wonder how much darker yellow that material is right now in that spot between your legs....I can just see it, can't you Vicky?" he softly asked, his fingers continuing, their motion unchanged. Both of us had our eyes closed at that point, I was sure. That did not prevent us both from fully knowing what was hidden below.

I felt his fingers inside the waistband of my pants, above and disappointingly outside of my darkening yellow panties. He eased the sweats down to not far above my knees, unable to move them lower due to my stance against the door. I knew better than to help him move them lower.

The feeling of his fingers on my bare thighs was electrifying, the strain in my knees almost thankful for the constraining sweatpants that at least were preventing my legs from buckling outward. It took Bill what seemed like 10 minutes to get my pants to the floor; I could have made myself bare from the waist down in a nanosecond.

With my sweatpants pooled at my feet, he stood up, reached around me for both wrists and pulled me back, away from the door and against his front. The thought of that imaginary string tied to my head for correct posture blazed through my brain. I also thought about the bulge that I felt behind my backside as I made every effort to secretly ease back against him.

I wasn't secret enough and he stepped back, at the same time easing both arms up above my head.

He still had his hands on my wrists, then let go and I felt my old T-shirt being pulled above the small of my back. I could feel him making allowance for my uncovered breasts with the loose bottom of my shirt, and then doing the same in back for my hair with the tighter neck as I closed my eyes.

Standing almost naked in front of him, I felt weak and alive at the same time. He eased me to the right two steps while he stepped over to the closed linen door, opened it and pulled out 5 or 6 folded towels. He laid them down on the closed lid of the toilet, then came over behind me and eased me to my right, one more step.

I was in front of him, he behind, both of us looking at ourselves in the floor length mirror.

As he moved his head up to breath something in my ear, my eyes closed.

"You are so fucking beautiful," was felt as much as heard in my ear. He strongly emphasized the 'F' in the word, for the benefit of us both I'm sure. I didn't faint, though I'm not sure why I didn't; it would have been an effortless reaction.

His hands wrapped around my sides, then moved to the front, dipping lower and into my panties as they moved to my center, just above wetting lips. His fingers stopped at what normally would have been the triangulated outline of my bush, hands wedging my panties wide.

Sure that he'd touch me where I needed it the most, I remembered his 'plan' as his fingers retreated.

As he drew his hands back around to my ass, he peeled my panties down my thighs as he went. Once below my hips, the panties in various shades of yellow were on the floor.

Our bathtub had a large space directly behind it, the tub in no way long enough to fill the space in our long, narrow bathroom. Bill had built in a deck-like platform immediately behind the tub, an area I was worried would be a catchall for things we were too lazy to put away properly. Somehow, we both had the discipline to keep the area free of clutter. Thankfully wrong about our willpower, the area served as a perfect place to sit while I shaved or a great place to sit and soak our tired feet.

Bill spread out half of the towels on the space, then returned back to my side.

Relieved with his ministrations, making it quite obvious that his time near me wasn't over, I willingly allowed his assistance easing me into the tub. Even with the passage of time since the water had run, the water was hot; almost too hot. He was good at knowing that type of thing and was patient enough to help me slowly place my feet into the fiery water.

Quite sure that he wanted me to sit on the platform, I eased back, anxious to lift my feet from the deep water and get them some cooling relief. He came over to my side and helped scoot my bottom back against the wall. I was then actually back almost too far and had to scoot forward just a bit in order for my legs to re-enter the water; my calves against the back of the tub. Time and acclimation allowed me to start enjoying the tub's heat once again.

Bill grabbed one of the thick towels, placed it down on the floor beside the tub and knelt, his body near my left knee. He reached across for the back sponge, took the bottle of body wash and started my bath. No sooner started, he set the soap and sponge down then looked back at me, abruptly stood up and left the bathroom, returning from the living room with one of the big floor pillows. I leaned forward, he set it the long way behind me and the pillow was a very welcome cushion between my back and the wall. Bending down, he kissed my cheek and returned to his spot on the floor.

"Ok, time to get you clean hon."

"Hmm, pillow against my back with luscious towels below.....I'll be doing this again," I thought to myself.

I looked over at him, still in his old shorts and wondered if I dared a request.