During and After My Bath

There are few things more sensual and relaxing for me than a glorious soak in a bath tub. Usually I choose to bathe not because I'm feeling dirty, that's what showers are for, but because it feels like the most luxurious treat imaginable.

So having more time than expected, I gave myself a spa treatment. It takes far less money to create an extra soothing and intensely pleasurable bath than most people realize; for me it's generally less than a dollar. With the curtains closed throughout the house, lights off everywhere, the bathroom door open, a perfect soft light was able to settle itself quietly around my tub, just enough for comfort but that was in no way intrusive. Forgoing "mood music," I prefer the muffled sounds of the outside world, the hum of traffic just barely penetrating the walls, only enough to remind me that the busy, frantic, stressful world is "out there" while I'm inside escaping to a private and pleasurable retreat far, far away, in essentially another world.

Somehow turning on the tap for what I know will be a selfishly-sensual bath is one of the more pleasing sounds I know. That is when I add a few squirts of body oil and a half-cup or more of baking soda: total cost perhaps fifty to seventy-five cents. I watched for the first few moments as the water filled the bottom, dissolving the baking soda and combining it with the oil, and began to climb the sides of the tub. Only then did I step into the bedroom to slowly, yet steadily, undress. Part of me always wants to jump out of my clothes and into my naked self instantly, so I somewhat teased myself by slowing down. I adore being nude; don't you? The feeling of being attired only in gentle air flowing around me, in light and shadow, in freedom from convention, constriction, and everything – that is pure pleasure! I put my long hair up into a high pony tail partly to keep it out of the water but mostly to increase my feeling of total nakedness.

When the tub is half full that's when I most like to ease into the almost-too-hot water for then I can both nestle into what's there and enjoy the churning, rising, enveloping sensation. Each time I do so there is a tiny part of me that fears, yet eagerly anticipates, that the water will completely submerge me as I lose myself completely in the experience. Obviously, that doesn't happen; instead I inevitably find a compromise between the highest level the tub can allow and that in which I can easily relax and breathe comfortably. The water off, near silence returns, and I find just that position in which I can let me muscles soften, letting my skin enjoy the nurturing saline water akin to the ocean's level, and my mind can trail off wherever it desires. After I've turned on my stomach for a while then back again, for added comfort I sometimes place a tri-folded washcloth over my eyes to help me mentally shut out the world, to exist only within the water-blurred boundary of my skin and in my gradually decelerating yet still meandering mind, changing thoughts naturally as with the tidal flow or waves themselves. Soon, every aspect of my being has a soft glowing smile of joy. How much time passed like this I don't know, only that the water wasn't yet too cool.

This is how my lover saw me when he returned home. Some distant part of me had heard him come in, had registered it as a safe and welcomed concept, then my thoughts melted back to wherever they had been or to somewhere else. I mildly heard him walk into the bathroom, could practically see his special smile despite having my eyes closed, and this prompted me to smile in return before he walked back out. Within a few moments he was back, sitting on the side of the tub. My right hand reached up to him and felt his thigh, now naked, causing my smile to broaden. For a short time he didn't move, apparently simply enjoying the sight of my petite, feminine form decadently and literally soaking in pleasure.

He reached across me to get my favorite bath gloves, the ones that are a bit thicker and somewhat scalloped in texture. Sliding them on himself, he then immersed his hands into the tub, frustratingly beyond my touch, to wet and warm the gloves. He then grabbed my soap, the fragrance-free, hypoallergenic wonder that can go anywhere on or in me without any irritation and that leaves me feeling beyond clean, even more refreshingly naked. He slowly began to caress my right hand and arm, sudsing them, scrubbing them beyond "mmm, that feels great" but just before "hey, that's a too rough." With an intentionally slow method, he began to own wherever he rubbed, bringing it to life, causing everywhere else to long for his touch. It was both invigorating and calming, stimulating and reassuring, and undeniably utterly healthy. It felt like years of preconceptions, false ideals, societal expectations fell off me to soon be rinsed down the drain. It wasn't just feeling younger, but more like agelessness, unadulterated me-ness.

He washed my whole body with those almost-too-coarse gloves, using them to cleanse, caress and tease every part of me, all the external, or indeed almost internal, places he could reach. It was impossible for me to remain still in the tepid water. I couldn't help but to reach toward him with whatever part of me he caressed, to press against his hands in order to feel more of him, which was something he wouldn't allow, partly for the power involved and to keep me from rubbing my skin raw in its very softened state. He had me sometimes turn on my side, other times on my stomach, then again on my back in order to reach every bit, from behind my ears to between my toes and all places in between. It was glorious! When he finally removed and rinsed off the gloves, the water was fully cooled, but I was hot enough not to care.

He gently took hold of my hands and gradually eased me to my feet, being sure to keep me steady since the tub was slick with water and that hint of body oil. My lover released the plug on the drain, and I seemed to see all my previous stress and tension flow away. He removed the hand-held shower head from its base on the wall, turned on the water, and while he waited for the right temperature he adjusted it to the shower pulse setting he wanted. Soon he gently rinsed me off, concentrating the jets on, for example, my belly, but only slightly skimming over my quite erect nipples and swelling pussy. He knows darn well that my new habit of epilating and shaving leaves my skin, especially my pussy, feeling incredibly soft and dramatically more sensitive to touch, so he wasn't successful in trying to make it look accidental that he mostly avoided attending to that area. He sprayed water only enough to rinse but not enough for pleasure. However, he did a great job of insuring I was very thoroughly rinsed between my ass cheeks, that my sweet spot there was superbly clean, and that certainly did feel stupendous!

When the tub was nearly all drained after the shower was also off, my lover slowly and lovingly toweled me off, embracing me, caressing me with the towel, again ensuring that he reached all areas to dry me. Well, almost all areas!

He quickly dropped the towel between us once I was standing on the bathroom floor beside him then embraced me completely, enjoying my slight dampness against his dry body that was itself beginning to glisten from the humidity of the bath and his growing desire. It wasn't long before we were kissing, feeling closer than I would have thought, his hardness beginning to press against me in a way that felt ironically both a demanding foreign object yet also more a natural part of me than ever.

Did he lead me into the bedroom, or did I lead him, or did we just suddenly end up there? I can't really say now, but seemingly the next instant we were beside the elevated bed. I love that bed because the raised frame and the taller mattress and box spring mean that I literally need a small step stool to get into it since I'm petite. My lover, however, is taller, so he has other reasons for liking that height, for one thing he loves watching me climb up into the bed. Several times he has interrupted me in that process, while I'm on tip-toes with my left foot, and my right knee is well up on the bed, perpendicular to my torso.

This time, I noticed that on top of the bedspread he had laid out one of our super- soft- teddy-bear-sensual blankets, one I can barely resist at any time but all the more so after a long bath. I clambered up instantly and snuggled in before thinking to turn around and look at him. I felt mildly intoxicated from the sensual joy I had felt in the tub, so naturally high with simple pleasure, somewhat like the thrill of watching a sunset in the cool evening after a hot day at the beach, simply enjoying the experience with someone special.

My lover's expression revealed that he wanted more than to enjoy simply the feel of the blanket but to instead enjoy me on it. His focus on me made me feel naked in a different way, vulnerable and exposed, fragile ... and yet safe. He motioned me to lie on my stomach, something I happily did as I nestled further into the soft blanket. Turning my head I saw on the nightstand a newly opened bottle of lube and a few toys. Again I smiled.

His hand rested lightly on my left ass cheek, still warm from the long bath, softly fragrant from the body oil. His fingers caressed my back, just the fingertips at first but slowly, very slowly, growing to a full hand, nearly total body, very light massage. Keeping me face down, he often reached under me or rolled me slightly to the side to caress everywhere he wanted, but not quite everywhere that I wanted him to touch. He knows that makes me squirmy, heard me quietly sighing and beginning to whimper. At unexpected times he kissed me on the back of my neck, very gently, while whispering his desire for me, his delight in me, hints at what he might do next. Or other times he would lick between my shoulder blades, or on my lower back where it curves the most at my waistline. Most electrifying was when he did anything with his tongue or fingers to one of my sensitive spots, the lowest finger-length portion of my spine between my ass cheeks but not all the way to the Amazing Feelings areas. It's such a tease there, such a burst of colorful sensations!

Soon I realized that his caresses were increasingly directed between my legs, causing me to gently spread them apart. He was concentrating more on my upper thighs, increasingly toward my pussy and ass. His touch seemed to be quickly everywhere at once while yet seemingly extra slow and tender; time raced and stood still. Contradictions like that happen when I get lost in the sensation, when I shut down the "What exactly is he doing?" part of my mind and instead exist only the "Who cares what he's doing because it feels fantastic!" portion. All I knew was that sometimes my pussy would enjoy incredibly wonderful feelings, but then more and more often it was my ass. He was prepping me, beginning the slow and precise process to allow him to enter me that way.

Just when I thought I knew what to expect next he turned me over. Were my conclusions wrong? He continued to prep my ass as before, to excite me still, but on my back this way we could look at each other, he could caress my breasts too, quickly pinch a nipple. Moreover, I could touch him, feel the curves of his torso, the hairs on his chest, the muscles in his arms. He had my favorite vibrator out so I could use it on my clit, which always makes anal sex easier and far more enjoyable for me. It's adjustable to about seven levels of power, all under my control, but oddly, no matter what the power level it really only works for me when my lover is inside me, especially in my ass. When he first started to enter me, delicately, very slowly, yet persistently, I turned it up a click, closed my eyes, and let the feelings take me away.

....

Afterward, I was so happily depleted and sticky that I decided to take another bath.