Getting Ready

"You know, I'd get cleaner, quicker if you lost those nasty old shorts," I teased.

He looked over at me, grinned as he does when playful and said, "Hey, the last thing we're in here is hurry."

He stood up, dropped his pants, waggled his dick at me and with a big smile, got back down on his knees to begin my bath. I was pleased, knowing that I still had at least some bargaining power.

He lifted my left foot out of the water, carefully stretching out my leg on the rim of the tub. He reached across my leg and did the same with the other one. While reaching across, he looked longingly up at my pussy, which felt as exposed as it actually was, the feeling wonderful. Presenting him with a distraction that he hopefully was going to get into was something I planned to flaunt and take full advantage of.

Dipping the sponge into the hot water, he began to moisten my leg. He drizzled water onto the top of my left foot, sliding the sponge slowly up as far as my knee, staying on top of the ridge and then dipped the sponge again to add more water. Starting at my knee, he continued up the crest of my thigh, stopping just before reaching my waist.

Sliding back towards me, he re-dipped the sponge and with his eyes locked on mine, he manipulated the sponge, from where he left off previously, over the highest part of my mound, down into the valley of my right leg, near but not on my pubic area. He lingered, obviously taking his time when he was centered above my sex.

Suddenly remembering that I hadn't shaved recently, I found myself a little self conscious, knowing that Bill loved my pussy most when it was smooth and clean. I suspected that it would draw a response from him.

Bill's control of the handle must have been good, since I think he felt the resistance more than he saw it as he stroked through the top of my stubble.

"Vicky......I had planned on going fishing next Saturday but now it looks like I'll have to stick around and help you with a chore here in the bathroom; you know how much I like helping around the house." After another, only partially thoughtful pause, "Don't forget love; a clean pussy is a happy pussy."

I couldn't help it, I giggled as did he. Who wouldn't want a happy pussy?

Dipping the sponge once more, Bill continued down my right leg. The time he took in reaching my foot was a gift, the long seconds taken exaggerating the distance, a signal to us both that the leg was much longer than it actually was. He was constantly reminding me that my legs, both of them, were as properly long as they needed to be.

"This is the good part Vicky; the application of soap with proper rubbing to remove all traces of dirt. I'm going to talk you through it, just to remind you of the proper procedure. Cleanliness is the path to......well, you know......."

He applied the soap, began to massage and gave my toes the attention they always deserve. For my part, I completely closed my eyes, mostly closed my ears and drifted somewhere far away while his quiet and gentle words drifted off into the steamy room, making my left leg a land all its own.

At least they drifted off until he finally reached my pubic bone.

Now his mouth was silent, a hopeful sign to me that he'd find something else to do with it rather than blather on about cleanliness.

And that's just what he did, the problem was, he just didn't do enough of it.

Oh, it started well enough with his small kisses on the inside of my thighs and hairs. It was going even better when one of his hands was below my ass, a finger reaching upward, almost reaching my round hole, the other hand's two fingers just outside my pussy's lips, pulling slightly upwards, his mouth placing small kisses adjacent to, but never quite directly on, my swollen lips.

With my sex pulled taught, the sponge taunted me, up, down, up down, dragging lightly across my clitoris. Using two fingers to circle my lips, freshened body wash was rubbed in, as though he was waxing his favorite car. Going round and round, but not directly touching on or between my lips, he lightly scrubbed. Listening to my building pleasure, he stopped, paused, then reached for the sponge handle again and rinsed every area, making sure to rub in all directions for an adequate rinse.

"I'm just checking the quality of the rinse...." were the only words spoken.

It happened before I really even knew it, or rather I, was coming. Something inside me was growing faster than I could keep up with and suddenly I was exploding, unable to stop it. When I returned from where I'd gone, I slowly became aware of the sponge gently riding up and down, passing from the cool-ish feeling towel below my ass up and onto the top of my groin.

Patiently waiting for my return, Bill then gently scolded me with, "Vicky, now we'll have to start this all over again" the teasing in his voice painful but sweet.

I couldn't take it anymore, reaching for him and tried to pull him close. His eyes met mine, I'm sure the longing in my eyes obvious, clear and deep.

"Fuck me Billy, now, no more playing around, please.....please?"

He smiled, not the teasing smile, but his loving smile, leaving his position on the floor next to the tub, moving up next to me, his knees pushed into my hip.

"Vicky, you know there's nowhere else I'd rather be than inside you, but not right now" quietly responding in my ear. "We've got to finish your bath and then I need to get you dressed. No more fooling around, OK?"

Fooling around? I wasn't sure how more of this I could take, but being tested was something I painfully was ready to look forward to.

I pouted my lips, slumped back against the wall and placed one finger on my tightened clit, flaunting this touch for his benefit.

"See, she's seeking you out and begging you for a kiss."

He got so close with his tongue that my eyes closed in what was then wasted anticipation.

"I do see and I can smell her too.....she's absolutely gorgeous," his only frustrating response.

He did my other leg, not quite as carefully as the first, but thoroughly enough, then had me slide forward, my neck and head against the back of the tub. I'm just tall enough to almost fit with my legs unbent, staying inside, but he wanted me further down, so he helped get each of my legs up on the rim, outside of the water.

The now cooling but still adequately hot water felt wonderful on my trunk, my legs thankful for their brief dip into the same heat.

"While you're soaking, I'll get a washcloth for your face," he shared.

Getting up, I could see how hard he was as he quickly went to the stack of linens in the closet. I wanted to say something, but decided against it, ready to begin the pleasure of his touch on my face with the hot cloth. My caution didn't prevent me from examining him again upon his return, our knowing smiles each telling the other enough of our shared story that words weren't really necessary.

With my eyes closed, he carefully and methodically washed away all traces of anything unclean. Nothing or rather no spot was skipped. I stretched my neck with a combination of leaning forward and turning to make it easier for him to do my neck.

"Don't worry about the back side; I'll get that in a bit."

With my neck scrubbed and rinsed, he asked me to sit up, reaching for my hands to assist.

"Can you sit cross-legged, then sideways in the tub?" he then wondered.

Knowing that I could, I shifted my legs around, folding them beneath me as I turned to face him. While doing so, I realized that Bill did in fact know that I was perfectly able to sit that way as well. More than once he had come upon me in the room while in that position, before, during or immediately after pleasuring myself. He obviously knew that his question was one asked needing no answer and now the smile on his face only reinforced what we both already knew.

"I've been extremely disciplined avoiding contact with these lovely boobies, don't you think?" he said while bending down to examine them, as if there was a small bug or some other micro item crawling on them. There were many words used in our home for the female mammary glands and "boobies" was the one he used when feeling most playful. I was perfectly willing to allow him his fun, knowing that I'd absolutely be rewarded for my tolerance. Another almost tired game was his ever willing "breast exam time" assertion. Perhaps even he was growing bored with that one since it wasn't even presented to me this time. Knowing that he was on a quest to get them un-dirty in most anyway he imagined, was likely enough to keep the 'breast health issue' quiet this time.

He kept his smile while easing me back, against the opposite side of the tub.

"Is it OK on your back?"

I smiled and acknowledged that I was fine, appreciating his concern.

It would have been easy for me to suck in my tummy, which was naturally not as firm or solid as any of us would wish for our own to be, but I did not. Bent over, even leaned back as I was, made for a less than ideal photo op of my front side.

Bill picked up the handle'd sponge, dragging excess water up my chest. My nipples had started to harden even before I turned myself sideways in the tub and now they were proudly facing my husband, anxious for his approval which would most certainly come very soon.

His left hand immediately went to my lower abdomen, the fingers horizontal across my belly, with thumb extended, it oooohh so close, just above my inner heat.

Never doubting his ability to be thorough, the sponge graced all of my stomach, taking a long break while his fingers toyed with my navel. For some reason, he chose to use both hands to get me clean there. When he let go of the sponge, my eyes immediately focused on the handle, thinking about where it might fit to provide me some relief to an ache, once again quickly growing stronger.

Finally done with my belly, he released and let go, the sponge once again floating beside me. Using both hands, he encircled my right breast, my smallish areoles the only area uncovered in the circle above his crossed thumbs. Being ever so careful to not bump my rigid nipple with his hands, he leaned forward and in the process, pushed me back hard against the other side of the tub.

His tongue, lips and finally teeth snuck through the gap in his thumbs to suck, pull and nibble on the rock hard little knob. Supporting his body on mine from his waist forward, he clumsily let go as he pulled back, no longer over my lap.

"I can't use the sponge or my fingers on your nipples, do you know why?"

Unable to answer him; he not waiting for the answer anyway, answered his own question with, "They're far too sensitive."

He leaned forward again, this time my other breast his target. I shifted slightly to better support his weight and he pushed even harder against me this time, using a bit more force, flattening this breast more than he had on the other side.

Normally unable to orgasm just from stimulation to my breast, I had begun to feel another one growing inside me. Doing whatever I could to help, my eyes closed and I did my best to maintain my position, which was maintaining his position, hopefully to reach my peak.

It didn't take long.

As I went limp, relaxing back against the wall, Bill lifted himself back, unloading his body weight from mine. With his hands in the bottom of the tub for support, he leaned forward again and began to plant wet kisses on my shoulders, the base of my neck and wherever else he could reach from his compromised position.

Out of breath and feeling weaker than I should have, I shifted in the tub to relieve my legs which were falling asleep. It took a bit to get turned around and to straighten them out.

Knowing the answer, but thinking that his resistance might hopefully be down, I asked again.

With a look of need in my eyes, I offered to climb out of the tub, lean over the edge and let him take me from behind, one of his very favorite positions. It had been a long time since we had locked together on the edge of the tub and I hoped that our mutual tension may just be enough to get what we both must have wanted.

"We haven't done your back yet" was all I got, his smile sincere.

There would be an end to this and eventually I'd get what I needed but for the time being, I could afford a bit more patience. At least, that's what I was telling myself. After all, he wasn't trying to punish or hurt me, even though it was beginning to feel that way. Or course I knew better and the pain was of the sweetest kind.

Bill grabbed two of the wet, but as yet unfolded towels that I had sat on behind the tub. He deliberately and carefully placed them in the bottom of the tub, in each rear corner, under the water.

Looking at me, he leaned in and hugged me, kissing me hard and long. I reached for his purple, rock hard cock and stroked it, trying to be careful about not being too rough. My hand gripped him and then slid up and down his shaft twice, feeling his precum immediately.

He broke the kiss, moaning as he pulled away, his eyes closed, the look of pain on his face.

"You know I don't want to hurt you babe" which was a question as much as a statement.

His face sullen, he forced a smile that began to grow on its own. Suddenly happier (hopefully not less horny), he reached over and guided me to face up against the back of the tub. He helped me plant my knees on the wet towels soaked deep in the tub, then moved two more towels in place so that I could rest my forearms and face on the large flat space above the back of the bathtub.

Leaning over, he planted a kiss over my eye, "I love you so much."

I had never doubted that.

"Let's do your back..... are your knees OK like this?"

I nodded sideways as I watched him disappear behind me; he again had to find the floating brush.

He brought a trail of falling water up on my back with the sponge, enjoying more than necessary the roundness of my ass cheek as he topped its crest. Water cascaded down and around my sides as he slid the sponge higher, soon up behind my shoulder blades. He stopped and dipped it again for more water.

Once my back was thoroughly wet, he poured some soap into his hands, and then applied a liberal amount of the thick and obviously cool liquid into the small of my back, a natural crater that could only attempt to contain the thick soap.

Ignoring the sponge, his hands began to spread out the soap, rubbing and working it into an ever thinner and sudsy layer around my entire back. For some odd reason, my ass and the cleft between my cheeks seemed to be receiving lots of his attention. His finger was sliding deeply into the crack; obviously an area that he wanted to assure was clean and I could imagine no reason to stop him.

While Bill's attention to my ass was nice, it was the considerable time he spent on my back, shoulder blades and neck that was simply wonderful. I could postpone horny for a bit while enjoying the touch of his hands sweeping over and working their pure magic into my back. It's not like I didn't know what to expect; Bill's backrubs never failed to take me from troubled into bliss.

My eyes were struggling to stay open, the fact that I wasn't lying in a prone position merely an inconvenience and I could feel my breasts becoming heavier against the tub wall. Every part of me was easing out from under my lust into ecstasy, if that's even possible without more release. My guy truly knew how to bring me love.

My back must have been done because his hands were only busy with the spot where my neck meets my shoulders. Surely there had been part of my upper back that was missed. Either that or I had floated away for a bit.

I felt his kiss, centered right in the nape of my neck, and then heard him say, "Let's go get you dried off."

My back was a little stiff from being bent over for that long, so Bill's help in easing me up and out of the tub was more than welcomed. He stood me on the bathmat, made a special effort to reach into the closet once more and grabbed the one towel that he knew I liked most. I smiled but shouldn't have been surprised. To be honest, I had been watching each time as he grabbed more towels from the shelf, his picks never missing my gaze, then always relief that he wasn't 'wasting' my luscious one. To say that I was delighted in seeing him approach me with my favorite towel would be selling Bill short. He had after all, been making an effort all afternoon to please me.

I don't think I can remember anyone ever drying me off before, at any time, not since I was a little girl. His ability to reach areas that I often had to hurry over made for thoroughness that the process had never seen when the responsibility was mine. The fact that he was doing it with such care and with 'my towel' was just that much better.

He of course didn't miss a single square inch of my body's surface. His rule about not touching my 'hot spots' was being bent to oblivion with the fabric coming between us. My nipples were pinched, pulled, and then rubbed. He took each breast more seriously than he had in the tub, determined that no lingering moisture would escape the bathroom. As he moved down my belly, he had me sit down on the edge of the tub, my legs spread as wide as possible, his face mere inches from my sex as he wiped, inspecting each stroke. He had me scoot a bit further forward, to the point that I was barely on the edge of the tub at all, my sex literally in his face.

He backed away slightly and looked up at me.

"We use warm air for these areas so delicate." The twinkle in his eye was off the end of even his chart.

The towel was draped across my lap, providing a very ineffective barrier for him as he blew my sex dry. His fingers, never directly touching the center of his attention, gently pulled, pushed and whatever else it took to make sure that no area escaped his warm breath.

"Bill, please stop, I'm getting wet again."

"You know what that means, right?" the twinkle in his eye even nastier.

My head tipped back, small "no's" forming at my lips, but making sounds inaudible.

He was pushing me beyond where I wanted to go, but I wouldn't stop him.

Instead, he stopped on his own, pulled back and continued with the towel, finishing both of my legs, each foot and every single toe.

The smile on his face said, "There, aren't you proud of what I've done here?"

Just like a little boy.

He hung up the towel and led me to the bedroom.

I of course had been thinking all day, actually, a good part of the week about what I'd wear for the evening, plans were already made in my mind. I imagined that Bill would lead me to the bedroom, look at me with a 'deer in headlights' look, completely clueless about where to turn at that point, our game for the time being, over. I was mistaken though.

"Here, sit down Vicky," he instructed as he presented a spot on the corner of our bed, his tone commanding and mostly convincing.

He walked over to the closet, scanning through the hangers and then stopped and turned towards me.

"My clothes are all pick........" but he never let me finish. His arm shot out towards me, stiff and perfectly straight. The fingers on his hand splayed out like a peacock's fan.

"Not to worry dear, we've got 'er all taken care of."

Ohhhh no.

The very first thing in my mind was the time I caught my older brother playing with my paper dolls.

"Where's your white shirt, you know, that kind of thin one with the buttons?"

We had been through this many times, his word, "thin" having been corrected over and over again, but he obviously wasn't going to give up his having fun with it. I fell for the trap regardless.

"No, you mean the "shear" one."

"Yeah, you know the one" his rapid fire answer.

Admitting defeat, I steered him towards the right side of the closet. Trying not to look, I watched him move down and over to the other side. He was still nude, his penis mostly limp but very lovely.