Bathtub Bliss & Unexpected Bliss

The rain hammered against the windows of the secluded cabin, a relentless rhythm mirroring the frantic beat of my heart. It had only been two days since Daniel left for his six-month deployment overseas, and already, the absence felt like a gaping wound in my soul. The silence in the house was deafening, broken only by the wind howling through the pines and the insistent throb of longing in my core. I’d tried to fill the void with work, with books, even with a disastrous attempt at baking a chocolate cake, but nothing seemed to quell the rising tide of desire that threatened to consume me. The nights were the worst, each one stretching out into an eternity of restless sleep and desperate fantasies.

Tonight, the loneliness felt particularly acute. I’d poured myself a generous glass of bourbon, hoping to numb the edges of my pain, but it only served to amplify the heat that radiated from my lower body. The thought of Daniel, his strong, calloused hands, his rough-hewn charm, his insistent need to please, was a burning brand on my mind. I needed release, a physical outlet for this pent-up energy, and the idea of a hot bath seemed like the perfect solution.

As I stepped into the claw-foot tub, the porcelain cool against my skin, I closed my eyes and let the fragrant lavender-scented bubbles swirl around me. The water, heated to a perfect temperature, enveloped me in a soothing embrace, momentarily distracting me from the ache in my heart. I ran my fingers through my damp hair, letting the water cascade over my scalp, washing away the day’s frustrations. It was during this moment of vulnerability that I noticed the shower head, hanging loosely from the wall above the tub. A reckless impulse seized me, and without thinking, I reached out and pulled it down, letting the warm spray directly onto my chest.

The sensation was electrifying. The water, infused with the scent of citrus, sent shivers down my spine. It hit my nipples with a delicious intensity, causing them to tingle and swell. My breath caught in my throat as a wave of pleasure washed over me, a primal urge that demanded to be unleashed. I arched my back, my muscles tensing, my body responding instinctively to the escalating sensation. It wasn’t Daniel’s firm, insistent cock, but it was undeniably stimulating, a welcome distraction from the gnawing emptiness within me.

The heat intensified, building to a fever pitch. My clitoris, already sensitive from the anticipation, began to throb with a delicious ache. I gripped the edge of the tub, anchoring myself as the waves of pleasure surged through me. It was an unexpected pleasure, a secret indulgence that felt both illicit and intensely satisfying. I let out a low moan, lost in the throes of the moment, completely surrendering to the sensations. The water streamed over me, a torrent of warmth and sensation, as I arched my back higher and higher, desperate to prolong the experience.

Within seconds, I reached the peak of my arousal. A powerful orgasm ripped through me, a seismic event that left me gasping for air. The world seemed to spin for a moment before slowly returning to normal. I lay back against the warm water, my body trembling with residual pleasure. The memory of Daniel, his touch, his scent, filled my mind, and I realized that this nightly ritual had become a strange substitute for his presence.

As the last vestiges of pleasure faded, I pulled myself out of the tub, wrapping myself in a plush white towel. The cool air on my skin was a welcome contrast to the lingering warmth of the water. I knew this couldn’t be a long-term solution, but for now, it was a small comfort, a way to navigate the lonely days ahead. I made a conscious decision to embrace this newfound pleasure, transforming the hot bath into a nightly ritual.

Each night, I would draw a warm bath, light a few scented candles, and pour myself a generous glass of bourbon. Then, I would reach for the shower head, letting the warm spray tantalize my sensitive areas. As I lost myself in the sensation, I would close my eyes and imagine Daniel's hands caressing my body, his touch igniting a fire within me. I would picture his firm cock, his passionate desire, the way he always knew exactly what I wanted. It was a bittersweet fantasy, a desperate attempt to fill the void left by his absence.

The first week passed in a blur of heat, desire, and self-discovery. I found myself growing bolder, more confident in my own body and pleasure. The hot baths became less about escaping loneliness and more about embracing my own sensuality. I started experimenting with different oils and lotions, enhancing the experience with every touch. The water became my confidante, my sanctuary, a place where I could shed my inhibitions and indulge in the raw, unbridled joy of my own flesh.

As the days wore on, the rain continued to fall, a constant reminder of Daniel’s absence. But now, instead of feeling despair, I felt a strange sense of empowerment. I had found a way to cope, a way to maintain my sanity and my desire. The hot baths, once a desperate measure, had become a source of comfort and pleasure, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is always something to look forward to.

One evening, as I was preparing for my nightly ritual, I noticed a small, wrapped package on the bathroom counter. It was addressed to me, in Daniel’s familiar handwriting. My heart pounded in my chest as I tore open the wrapping paper, revealing a single, perfect red rose. Attached to the stem was a small, handwritten note: “Thinking of you. Can’t wait to be back in your arms. Love, D.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I read the message. The simple act of kindness, the thought of him, filled me with a renewed sense of hope. It was a reminder that even though he was far away, he was still connected to me, still thinking of me, still loving me.

That night, as I stepped into the hot bath, I felt a surge of gratitude. The pleasure was still there, but now it was intertwined with a deeper emotion: longing. I closed my eyes and let the water wash over me, savoring every sensation, every touch. I imagined Daniel’s hands, his lips, his touch, and allowed myself to be completely consumed by the fantasy. It wasn’t just about physical release anymore; it was about reconnecting with my love, feeling his presence in my mind, in my heart, in my soul.

As the rain continued to fall outside, I knew that I could get through these couple of weeks, even months, without his hard penis ready 24/7. The hot baths, my nightly ritual, had become more than just a way to release tension; they were a testament to my strength, my resilience, and my enduring love for Daniel. Fun in the tub, indeed. And as long as I had the water, the bourbon, and my imagination, I would continue to find pleasure and solace in the warmth of the porcelain and the memories of his touch. The wait would be long, but the anticipation, and the pleasure, were worth it.

Did you like this story? Bathtub Bliss & Unexpected Bliss look, but like these, here Mom sex stories.