Robe Ride: Tub Time Temptation

The week felt like a particularly slow, stagnant pool, each day blending into the next with the same monotonous rhythm of lukewarm coffee and lukewarm work. Tonight, however, the desire for something illicit, something to shatter the tedium, hung heavy in the air. As we slumped on the couch, the baby monitor emitting the usual gurgles and coos, I knew we needed a shot of pure, unadulterated indulgence.

I closed my laptop, the glow of the screen reflecting in my eyes, and sauntered towards the bathroom. The scent of lavender soap clung faintly to the air, a pleasant counterpoint to the simmering heat already building within me. Returning to the living room in just my robe, a soft, silky affair that barely covered my skin, I flashed my husband, Mark, a playful smirk gracing my lips. "Feeling dirty, big guy?" I called out, a deliberate invitation to the chaos that was about to unfold. Then, without a word, I hurried back to the sanctuary of the shower, eager to shed the day's anxieties and embrace the anticipation of what lay ahead.

As I dropped my robe, the cool tiles beneath my feet a welcome contrast to the humid air, I felt a warm, insistent presence behind me. Mark’s hands, strong and calloused from years of carpentry, caught my hips, pulling me back against him with a possessive force. He pressed against my denim-clad bulge, a tantalizing dance of touch and proximity, while tracing the delicate curves of my areolas with slow, deliberate fingers. I turned my head, nibbling playfully on his bottom lip, a silent signal of my own burgeoning desire.

Without hesitation, Mark began the process of undressing me, his touch both gentle and demanding. As he shed his clothes, the dampness of the air clinging to his skin, we stepped into the tub together, a shared plunge into a world of sensation. Taking turns cleansing away the day’s grime, we moved with a primal rhythm, a silent acknowledgment of the mutual pleasure we were about to unleash.

As Mark reached for the body wash, I seized the opportunity to indulge in some playful teasing. Scooping up a generous amount of suds, I began to lather him, my hands tracing the contours of his strong, broad shoulders, down his rippling muscled back, and over and beneath his perfectly round and tight ass cheeks. The thought of biting into the taut skin of his derriere sent shivers down my spine. The urge to possess him, to dominate him, consumed me.

I slid closer, my heightened, sensitive nipples pressing against his back as I reached past his hips to lather his member. The warmth radiating from his body ignited a fire within me, fueling my desire even further. He came to life beneath my touch, pressing back against me as I tugged and twirled my hands along his burgeoning cock. The muscles flexed, the veins pulsed, and the anticipation grew with each passing moment.

Releasing him, we swapped places, the shared experience forging an even deeper connection between us. As he rinsed off the suds, the water cascading over his body, he spun me around to face the back wall of the tub enclosure. Spreading my hands and pressing them against the cool tile, he began to return the torture, a slow, deliberate rhythm designed to heighten my senses. His hands, slick with soap, snake around my ribs, tugging at my nipples with a captivating intensity. A shriek escaped my lips, quickly replaced by a moan as his soapy hands grasped, fondled, and kneaded my breasts. I arched my back, my suspended globes swaying and bouncing in response to his fervent ministrations, lost in a world of pure sensation. The scent of lavender mingled with the tang of soap, creating an intoxicating aroma that fueled my senses.

With hands clasped around my breasts and pulsing pinches on the nipples that peeked between his fingers, he leaned over my back to nibble my ear. I pushed back against him, a silent invitation to continue his assault. The pressure of his thick meat sliding between my legs intensified my arousal, a tantalizing tease that sent waves of pleasure rippling through my body. My moans turned into a guttural growl as I moved to stand up, but his hand on my right teat pulled me down while his left hand went to my hip.

Quivering, not just from the handling but from the anticipation of what was to come, I felt his hands descend. Those strong, calloused hands firmly pressed against me as they traveled from breast to ribs, ribs to hips, hips to ass, then down the insides of both legs. The sensation was both overwhelming and exquisite, a testament to the raw power of touch. My body writhed in response, a desperate plea for more.

Feeling my freedom, I took the opportunity to turn. Grabbing his hips, I kissed my way down his stomach until I was kneeling, my body a willing instrument of pleasure. I grasped his ass, and the warm shower trickled over both of us as I dropped my head to his cock. I wanted to tease, to nibble his foreskin before pulling it back to kiss and rub against the head, but the hunger was too insistent to ignore. So, I relaxed my throat and pulled his perfect ass towards me, engulfing more of his cock in my hot mouth than I ever had before. I gagged, came up for air, sputtered as the water hit me, then repeated the cycle. Suck, gag, breathe, splash. Suck, gag, breathe, splash. Each repetition a crescendo of sensation, pushing me closer to the brink of ecstasy. My fingers dug into his flesh, pulling his hips and wordlessly begging him to fulfill my every desire.

The water continued to flow, a relentless torrent washing away the day's worries and amplifying our shared lust. As I pondered whether he’d finally honour me by coming in my mouth, he withdrew, leaving me yearning for the touch of his lips.

Mark put the stopper in the drain, the gurgling sound a signal that our intimate ritual was nearing its end. Then, he changed the shower spray to the tub nozzle, directing the warm water onto our intertwined bodies. He grabbed a towel and reached over me to clear the steam from the mirror, a silent acknowledgment of the shared experience we had just endured.

As we stared at our reflections in the fogged glass, the remnants of our shared pleasure hanging heavy in the air, I realized that this was more than just a physical encounter; it was a profound connection, a validation of our desires, a celebration of our intertwined souls. The warmth of the water, the scent of lavender, the feel of his skin against mine – all these sensations contributed to a moment of pure bliss, a memory that would forever be etched into the depths of my being. Looking at Mark, my husband, my lover, my everything, I knew that this was just the beginning of our shared journey into the depths of pleasure and passion. The thought left me breathless, eager, and utterly consumed by the desire to lose myself entirely in his arms.

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