Steam & Slippers

The fluorescent lights of the video store hummed a monotonous tune as I finished scrubbing the last greasy pan from the dinner dishes. My wife, Sarah, her voice a playful rasp through the bedroom door, broke the silence. “Honey, the store closes in like 10 minutes. Do you want to return the DVDs, or should I do it?”

“I got it! I’m dressed,” I replied, a genuine chuckle escaping my lips. Dressed, in this instance, meant a pair of worn, fuzzy slippers, a pathetic defense against the rapidly cooling evening air.

She walked in carrying the three romantic comedies we’d rented – a predictable choice, but one that always seemed to fit the mood of our weekend cabin trips. “Here ya go,” she said, placing the plastic cases on the counter beside the door. I was still drying the last coffee mug, the steam clinging to my skin. “Don’t take too long,” she added, her hand gently grazing my lower back as she wrapped her arms around me. The cool, delicate press of her nipples against my skin sent a shiver through me, a primal heat building beneath my shirt. “Might want to put some clothes on. And change your shoes.”

As I pulled back into the driveway, a wave of unease washed over me. The lights in the den and bedroom were off, plunging the house into a comfortable, enveloping darkness. On the small porch, I kicked off my work boots and shed my sweatpants and flannel shirt, revealing a pale expanse of skin. The thought of being naked in front of the house, vulnerable and exposed, felt utterly alien to my usually cautious nature. A warm bead of pre-cum gathered on my toe, a silent acknowledgment of the rising tension.

Pushing open the front door, I tossed my clothes and car keys onto the small kitchen counter, the scent of pine from the surrounding woods mingling with the lingering aroma of dinner. The digital clock on the wall glowed a stark white, revealing the open doorway into the bedroom. The air hung heavy with the chlorine scent of the hot tub, a promise of indulgence and release. A small tea light flickered on the edge of the bubbling water, casting dancing shadows on the walls. A soft, contented sigh drifted from the depths of the tub, accompanied by the rhythmic gurgle of the jets.

“Everything go OK?” I called out, my voice a little rough around the edges.

Giggling, Sarah responded, “Did you at least make it back inside the house before your clothes fell off?”

“Nope. Caught a snag on the porch. Dang thing stripped me naked,” I admitted, sinking onto the edge of the hot tub, letting my feet submerge in the warm, swirling water. Her eyes were closed, her body relaxed, a picture of blissful serenity. The vibrator we’d brought along, a sleek, black pleasure device, lay strategically placed on the side of the tub, a silent invitation. “Want me to pick up where we left off this morning?” I asked, a playful glint in my eyes.

“Not yet,” she replied, her voice thick with anticipation. “Why don’t you get in and relax?”

I slid further into the water, letting the jets massage my aching muscles. “Wow, these bubbles feel good!” I exclaimed, letting out a genuine laugh.

“You need to find a jet, then,” she whispered, her voice laced with a seductive invitation.

“Oh yeah?” I challenged, feigning disbelief.

“Take my pussy’s word for it. There are some good jets in here.”

“Not that I don’t trust you, but I think I’ll need to hear it directly from your pussy,” I said with a grin, my own arousal intensifying with each passing moment.

“She’s busy doing a quality control check on a jet over here. You’ll have to ask her later.”

As we continued our playful banter, the memories of our previous encounter flashed through my mind. We’d discussed the idea of mutual masturbation before, but our conservative upbringing had always held us back from venturing into such explicit territory. The thought of Sarah exploring her own desires, taking charge of the pleasure, filled me with a potent mix of excitement and trepidation. “Are you trying to work your way to an orgasm?” I asked, unable to contain my mounting anticipation.

“Nope,” she responded, her voice dropping to a near whisper.

“What?” I questioned, leaning closer, my gaze locked on her face.

“No, I’m not trying. I’ve already had two while you were gone,” she gasped, her breath catching in her throat. After she had reached her peak, she slowly sat up, positioning herself across the tub from me. Her nipples were just above the water, dancing on the waves as she shifted her weight slightly. I felt the subtle pressure of her foot against my sack, a silent signal of her readiness.

“Your turn,” she said, her eyes still closed, a hint of challenge in her voice.

We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, lost in the hypnotic rhythm of the jets and the warmth of the water, as her toes explored the sensitive flesh beneath her foot. She pulled her leg back as she moved closer, sliding her hand down my leg and caressing the bulge beneath my trousers. “Lay back,” she commanded, her voice soft but firm.

Still submerged in the water, I obeyed, allowing her to straddle me, her wet pussy descending slowly, deliberately, onto my erect member. The sensation was electrifying, a rush of heat spreading through my body. As she began to pump my dick with her hand, my muscles tensed, my breath caught in my throat. The pressure increased, building to an unbearable crescendo, and then, finally, I exploded. A silent scream of pleasure escaped my lips as I lost all control, surrendering to the overwhelming sensation.

She leaned forward, resting her head on my shoulder, her body trembling slightly. We held each other in that vulnerable position, the warm water enveloping us, as the automatic timer counted down the remaining minutes of the jets’ operation. Her toes continued their relentless exploration, digging deeper into my arousal, teasing me with their insistent touch. The scent of chlorine and skin filled the air, mingling with the intoxicating aroma of our shared desire. Finally, as the jets sputtered to a halt, plunging us into complete darkness, she pulled away, her eyes wide with a mixture of satisfaction and lingering pleasure.

“That was incredible,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with excitement. “You really know how to make a man feel good.”

I chuckled, unable to resist the urge to tease her. “Just wait until you see what I have in store for you later.”

As we slowly rose from the hot tub, dripping wet and breathless, we knew that this was just the beginning of our exploration into forbidden pleasures. The conservative walls that had once confined us felt like distant memories, replaced by a newfound sense of liberation and a burning desire for more. The night stretched before us, filled with endless possibilities and the promise of unbridled passion.

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