Sil Scarf

Steam from the nearly overflowing claw foot tub fills the room. Scent from the aromatic bath salts whispered to your senses.

Placing the thick white robe on the hook and glancing in the mirror as you pass, you smile with pride at the body of a thirty-nine year old woman who could still pass for twenty-five. Twisting your long hair into a knot, and stepping into the almost too warm water. Easing down you feel the warmth engulf you, and your cares of the long day begin to fade.

Totally immersed, the water renewing your body, your mind drifts back, to, what, almost four weeks ago. The note, the hotel, and the stranger. You are still unable to believe your reactions. How could you ever do that? What was so wrong in your marriage that would possess you to go to someone like that? Sure you and Tim had a few problems, but you had been married for almost ten years. What couple didn't? Yet you had run off to this meeting like an enthralled schoolgirl.

Memories of opening the door to that room, the view, the fear, the tension flood your mind. And of course the ecstasy. The giving of yourself like that. Never before, and like you swore to yourself afterwards, never again. Not even a note from the stranger. Maybe it was for the better. Gone, hopefully for good. But not soon forgotten. Memories of the moments. The blue scarf. You close your eyes and let the water move gently over you.

A grin crosses your lips as you fall back into that night. Those few unforgettable hours. Your hands move tenderly over your nipples, still just above the water. Already swollen from the cooler air. Slowly you circle, your mind reliving those intense memories. Your hands become bolder. Kneading the flesh. You smile to yourself, enjoying what those thoughts still do to your body. Almost every night now you have turned to the bath for release. The warm water, the sweet aroma, the privacy. One hand moves slowly over your belly, appreciating the firmness. No kids was a big help.

If only Tim could be the one. The one to make you feel this way. How long had it been, three, four months? Too long, anyway. Why was he working so much? Sure you both enjoyed the lifestyle that your incomes provided, but is that all there is.

The tying of the knot behind your head moves through your thoughts. Your hand moves lower. The standing for who knows how long. Your legs open to your touch. The whispered request, and your compliance. The water warm and relaxing. Your fingers tracing slow circles around that place. Your mind travels back to that evening. You coat coming off. Fingers moving more firmly. Stroking. Your nipples hard with the memories. One hand delicately teasing the bud. Your legs part more. Knees bent, exposed to the cooler air. Your mind drifts with the flow of thoughts coming back. Scene by scene it is all replayed. Your fingers drawing your desire to a higher level. The bath oil making your skin smooth and slippery. Your shaving for the last few weeks had been an impulse at first, but now you noticed the increased sensitivity. Your are so smooth and soft. Swollen, wanton to the touch. Your fingers spread the flesh, letting the water pass over the hidden folds. A thrill passes through you. One finger slowly circling just inside, your other hand moving down strokes the hard bud. Together your fingers work their magic. Your hips begin to thrust against your clenching hands. You can feel your muscles deep inside drawing at your inserted finger. More and more firmly you move over yourself. Deeper your mind goes back to that series of events. You feel the heat of the moment. The waters ebb and flow matching your thrusts.

Close, so close. The release, eminent. Mind going blank. Need taking control. Body shifting to allow access to those most private places. The feel of him deep inside you again. The moment remembered. The heart pounding, breathing rapid. A long moan bursts forth. Your body stiffening, toes curling, inner muscles clenching. Hips moving on their own. The feeling continues, on and on, higher, deeper the physical release reaches. You sink back into the warm water, hands moving slowly over you. Breathing returning to normal. Head back, eyes closed.

You can't believe the need within you. Even after so long, so many moments passed and still these thoughts can take you to this place. Your foot reaches out, and toes curling around the brass faucet, the hot water flows, warming the now tepid liquid that covers you like a blanket. How can this be happening? Will I ever hear from him again? You vow not to do this again. Your marriage can be saved. You love Tim. This is not what you want. But Still...