Helena Ch. 11: Hot Tubbin'

Author Note: This is chapter 11 in the Helena series, written from the inspiration of my close friend and frequent muse. Set in the area of Townsend, Tennessee, just outside the Smoky Mountain National Park.

I'm still more than a little bit perplexed by all of this.

How on earth can it be that a beautiful woman from a supposedly civilized country has gone through life without having spent time in a hot tub? Someone somewhere should be chastised severely for NOT having introduced you to this!

We spend a few hours in the shops in Pigeon Forge, which I endure only because it means I get to watch you try on new dresses and clothing. After the first store, you refuse to allow me into the dressing rooms with you; some foolish worry about me not being able to keep my hands to myself, and a concern about being arrested for public...oh, well. At least I get to see you in new stuff. A couple of them are so sexy I insist on getting them for you. In my head, I'm building a special evening out around both of them.

See how just the sight of you affects me? You're corrupting me! :)

But when we wander into a beachwear/swimwear shop, that's when you REALLY knock my socks off. You're leaving me panting with each change, but the green one...oh, my! Those hues of green...your eyes...your fair skin...

And that's when I mentioned the hot tub.

"You know, that suit ALMOST makes me want to rethink the 'No clothes allowed' policy for the hot tub," I mused. "I may make a temporary lapse, just to see you in that suit again. Even if it's only for a little while," I smile, thinking of the pleasure of taking it back OFF of you.

"Hot tub? You have a hot tub? I've never been in a hot tub before!" Your eyes come alive, and I have to fight the urge to take you there and then, and see how that suit looks on the floor of the changing room.

"Yeah, it's on the upstairs balcony. Not big; just enough for two people; maybe three if we get creative," I say, arching my eyebrows suggestively. Or maybe it's more comically. "I turned it on before we left, so it should be hot by the time we get back."

This news seems to cause a break in the shopping urge, and I think you're almost willing to forego dinner just to get back to the cabin sooner. Which, of course, causes me to drag things out a bit, just to tease you. It also gets me bargaining power to get you to wear one of the two dresses we just bought.

Among the sexiest things a woman can wear to me is denim. I'm old-school country, I guess, and blue denim, whether it's a pair of pants that seem to be painted onto a sexy ass like yours, or a short skirt, or, in this case, a simple short dress, well, that does a LOT to me. You slip into one of the restrooms in the shopping center, and shortly I see you coming out.

Sometimes life is like scenes in movies, at least for guys, when a gorgeous woman walks in and smiles at her man, and it all seems to move in slow motion. I know you don't REALLY walk in slow motion, but inside my head, I'm just trying to slow everything down, so I can take in and memorize every bit of this moment, this vision. Judging from your smile, I guess my shock and awe (and lust) are quite evident on my face. When you get close, you taunt me a bit.

"Is everything okay? Does it look that bad? I can change if you want; here, let me just go change back into-"

"Woman, if you even think about changing, I will spank you right here in the middle of Pigeon Forge," I tell you, none too quietly.

"Ooohh, that sounds exciting!" you reply, just as loudly.

I growl a bit as I put my arm around your waist and pull you along towards the Beast.

*******

We stop for dinner at a Chili's (very common chain restaurant here; no idea if you have them in the UK). We have to wait a few minutes, and I can't take my eyes off of you. It's still early evening, but this IS Pigeon Forge, so we still have to wait 15 minutes or so to get a table. As the hostess guides us to a table, you walk before me, and I shake my head and smile as I watch you walk.

Sex on legs.

I guide you through finding something you like, and you excuse yourself to go to the restroom. The waitress brings drinks while you are gone. I see you coming back, and you have a smile on your face. A sneaky kind of smile.

You just slide in across from me at the small table. I can tell something is going on, but I can't tell what, and you're obviously enjoying having a little secret. I just decide to ride along, waiting for you to spill the beans and explain that smile. I'm content just to be graced by it.

The waiter comes along, refills our drinks, and assures us our food will be coming soon.

"Okay, what gives?" I have to ask, after the waitress walks away.

"What do you mean?" you ask, too innocently.

"You've been smiling since you came back to the table. What are you up to?" I ask.

"What? Is it a crime for a lady to smile at her man? You know, I'm just happy to be here with you," you say, and I ALMOST believe your smile was just that. ALMOST...

"Yeah...okay, I withdraw my suspicions..." I say, raising my hands in surrender. "I'll just bask in the favor of your smile." I slide my hands, palms up, across the table. "Can you forgive me?" I ask too sweetly.

"Well, since you asked nicely..." you reply, putting your hands up onto mine, "I guess I can let it go." As you say this, you pull your hands back, leaving something on my hands.

Something black. And lacy. And a tad wet.

Your panties.

"Okay, so, who has the Baby Back Ribs," the server says, as she appears next to us, holding a tray aloft.

I quickly close my hand around the panties; well, partly around. Some of it still hangs out of my palm, and I can't help but think that she HAD to have seen it. The only real question is whether or not she had time to register what she saw. If she did, she hides it well.

You can't but barely hide your smile at my predicament as the waitress gives us our food and asks us if there is anything else she can get us.

"No, I think we're fine..." I say, hoping she'll just leave us.

"Are you okay, sir? You look a little red," she sounds a bit worried, but when I look at her, I can see just a hint of mirth in her eyes, and I realize that I really wasn't as sly as I thought I was. I just fumble for words, apparently to the amusement of BOTH of you.

"Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?" you ask sweetly. Oh, you vixen!

"Um, yeah, seems I may have a bit more on my hands than I thought," I finally manage to reply.

"Well, I'm sure a big man like you will get to the bottom of the problems soon," our waitress offers. "I'm sure you've found yourself in tight places before," she offers as she walks away.

I'm surrounded by smart-ass women.

*******

The rest of dinner is a bit of a blur for me. I've kept your panties in my left hand, not willing to let go of them. Your eyes seem to sparkle even more as the minutes pass, and I have to believe you're getting a bit of a rush from this wanton behavior of yours, and the effect it has on me.

But I'm not a man to be kept down for long.

Our waitress comes back and clears away our dinner plates, and asks us sweetly, "So, did you save a little room for something sweet, or will you be rushing off?"

I look at you, implying you should choose. But then I raise my hand to my face, and make a point of sniffing my hand.

"You know, I think I would like something sweet. Something creamy, maybe. Do you have anything HOT, but sweet and creamy at the same time? Something you can just sit and savor, enjoying the taste, taking your time, slowly working your way to the hot middle of, where it all just melts together, giving you a mouthful of-"

"No, we'll just have the check, please," you interrupt, and I realize that not only are you getting hot, but our waitress seems to be a bit lost in thought, too. Maybe we should ask for a waitress to go...?

*******

On the way home, I can't help but steal opportunities to slide my hands over onto your leg. The short dress rides up (How did THAT happen, Helena?), allowing me to enjoy feeling the contour of your smooth, sexy thigh. I probe higher, my pinky brushing up against a very wet, very hot pussy.

As the roads begin to wind more and more, requiring both of my hands on the big steering wheel, you lay back in your seat, your dress rising up even more. Your hands take over, but you tease me, just sliding them back and forth over your thighs, bringing the hem up tantalizingly close to revealing your bare sex. You stop short of that, though, and rub your hands over your breasts.

"I think I see the attraction of this material. So simple, so soft..." as your hands roam all over. "Especially against my bare skin," you say, as you pull the top of the dress down just slightly, revealing that your panties weren't the only things you removed in the bathroom at Chili's!

Now you're just killing me; and almost, both of us, as I struggle to get my attention back on the road just in time to avoid hitting a deer in the road.

"Well, enough for you!" you say, tucking your breast back into the dress. "You'll have to wait until you get me home, and not until I get to experience that hot tub!"

*******

Once home, I help carry your purchases into the bedroom, only to have you shoo me out of the room as you change. I groan my protest - "I've already seen you naked!" - but it's only a half-hearted protest. I wouldn't deny you your feminine mystique, so I grab my shorts and beat a hasty retreat upstairs, carrying a bottle of wine and a plastic glass for you, and a bottle of juice for me. Sliding the door to the porch open, I put the drinks on the deck next to the tub, then grab us a couple of towels out of the closet. I turn the jets on, then climb into the swirling, steaming water.

As I look out over the valley, the jets and bubbles immediately begin to soothe my body. I take a sip of my juice, then sit back and wonder how I ever managed to get so lucky.

Twenty minutes or so pass before I hear the door open, and then see you emerge, wearing the green bikini.

Oh.My.Word. You're even more amazing in it here than you were in the store!

You smile shyly as you approach me. "I take it you approve?" you ask, as you lean over the side of the tub and kiss me.

"Gog like. Gog like much!" I say in my caveman voice, kissing you back.

I hold your hand and help you into the tub. You sink slowly into the hot water, and it's my turn to be amused as I see the look on your face as you adjust to the heat and the sensations.

"Oh my God, it's like getting a massage from the water! This feels wonderful!" you say, as you sink in a little more, until only your face remains above. You've settled in on the opposite side from me, and I just let you sit there for a moment, taking in the sensation of your first hot tub.

It really is an amazing sensation. A dip in a hot tub can go a long ways towards helping soothe even the roughest of days. The water jets, submerged all over along the tub, shoot jets of bubbles and hot water at you, massaging away stress. It can also be a bit...stimulating, depending on where exactly those jets are in relation to, well, you can imagine. The water is typically around 98 to 104 degrees Farenheit.

I watch for a while as you seem to melt into the sensation, but then I can't resist you for long.

"Come here," I bid you, and pull you over to sit on my lap, your back against my chest. "Look..." I tell you.

From this upper level, the view out across the valley and into the mountains is even more breathtaking. It is dusk, and we're being treated to yet another gorgeous sunset. Brilliant oranges, pinks, and yellows fill the sky, and a light breeze gives a bit of a respite from the heat of the tub.

This...this is how life should be done. An amazing view, and a breathtakingly beautiful woman on my lap in a hot tub.

You know how I am; it isn't long before I'm kissing the back of your neck, nibbling at your ear. My arms are around your waist, palms flat on your belly, but my right hand just happens to "float" up to gently cup your breast through the bikini top. My left hand must be made of something else, because it gradually sinks, landing on your left thigh, where it begins to lazily stroke along your inner thigh, up and down, coming closer and closer to...there.

I feel you melting back into me, your bottom wiggling just a bit against my cock, which seems to be the only muscle not relaxing in the hot water. As I kiss along the back of your neck, I manage to catch one of the ends of your bikini top with my teeth. I lean my head back, pulling the bow out, and your top goes slack.

As you turn to face me, you narrow your eyes, trying to look like you're upset at my move, but your smile gives you away, and when my right hand exploits your new vulnerability, slipping in to gently tweak your nipple, your weak attempt at a scowl dissolves into a moan of pleasure. I do the same to the other nipple, then slip my hand behind you to untie the other knot.

Reaching back to the front, I grab the top and pull forward, freeing you from it. I drop it rather unceremoniously on the deck beside the tub.

Your breasts are now free and open targets, and I relish the ability to stroke and gently squeeze them, and as I pull and tweak the nipples, you turn and kiss me, your passion building.

My left hand, not to be outdone by his brother, has slid beneath your bikini bottoms, where it seems you have done a bit of trimming/shaving, probably to accommodate the small bikini coverage. My fingers tease up and down, up and down your lips, then up, circling around your clit, only to slide down and probe inside you a bit, then back to do the same cycle again. I can tell you're getting frustrated, pushing against my hand, then with a growl (a proper English woman, growling? How unladylike! :) ) you grab my hand and pull it to your clit, your need urgent.

I relent of the teasing, and begin to strum more rigorously around the button. My right hand abandons its post at your breasts and works its way down, down, until the tip of my long, thick middle finger finds its way to your hot hole. It is slick, in spite of the hot water doing its best to wash away your natural lubrication. You writhe your way onto my finger, and fuck at it as it begins to pump in and out of you.

It isn't long before you're obviously on the edge of orgasm. Your wiggling and writhing has me fully aroused, and it is all I can do to hold off on pushing you over the side of the tub, yanking your bottoms down, lowering my shorts, and plunging into you. I manage to maintain the course, though, wanting to make sure you get your pleasure first. You know, being a gentleman and all that.

Until you turn, looking through slitted eyes into mine, panting for breath, and tell me, "Take me, John. Take me right now!"

What's a gentleman to do?

Si I stand, pushing you off of me and over the side of the tub, yank down your bottoms, lower my shorts, and plunge fully into you. There's no stopping; you're pushing your ass back at me, sheathing me in your wet heat at the very first thrust. Your shoulder dips, and I realize dimly that you've continued my work on your clit. Water is sloshing wildly, waves going over the sides, and soon I hear you beginning to call out to me.

"Yes! Fuck! Fuck me, luv! Fuck me, Ixm...Oh fuck! I'm cumming! Yes!" Your beautiful ass is slamming back into me, your silky heat so much hotter than the water, and I follow right after, spilling my seed deep inside you.

You are shaking as I pull your torso up, back against my chest, and sit down, you on top of my lap. It does not take long before we are both like a couple of Jello molds. I rise and climb out first. I turn off the jets, then help you out of the water.

The hot tub alone will drain you of energy, even without such a wild bout of lovemaking. I know there's no way you'll make it down the steps, so I dry your naked body off, wrapping your hair in a towel, then carry you into the upstairs bedroom. I pull back the covers and sheets, and then settle you into the bed. You roll over, and almost immediately you are asleep.

I pause for a minute, just memorizing the sight before me. Then I turn off the light, throw my shorts out on the deck, and climb in behind you. Soon, we are two spoons in the drawer, sleeping soundly.