White Linen, Red Wine, Blissful Soak

The scent of zinfandel hung heavy in the air, a welcome distraction from the mounting anticipation. I’d arrived early, determined to savor the solitude before my husband’s arrival, the thought of him already setting my pulse racing. The tiny fridge, stocked with just a few bottles, held a small treasure – a chilled bottle of zinfandel, twisted open and taken in long, slow sips. The plush white linens of the king-sized bed, draped against the painted headboard, felt cool against my skin as I sprawled out, arms flung wide, bouncing once before taking a deep, deliberate breath and closing my eyes. It was a ritual, this pre-arrival ritual, a slow burn of desire meant to amplify the pleasure that awaited.

The oversized tub in the corner was the focal point of the room, a gleaming white sanctuary promising warmth and release. Twisting the cap back on the mini-bottle, I tossed the empty bottle onto the beautifully tiled ledge beside the tub, bypassing the shrunken Butler’s pantry entirely. I grabbed another bottle, pouring the rest into a wine glass, then another, placing both on the ledge. It was important to be prepared, to have everything just so. The fresh towels, perfectly folded, lay waiting next to the tub at both sides, a silent invitation to indulge.

As the water began to cascade into the tub, a generous amount of lavender body wash dissolved into the steaming liquid, creating a fragrant haze that filled the room. With a snap of my fingers, my lace bra fell open, revealing an erect nipple, which caught the light and bounced gently as it fell to the floor by the chair. The sight was both provocative and intimate, a blatant display of my pleasure.

Turning the lights off, but dimming the overhead lights above the tub, I found solace in the low-lit ambiance. The radio, thankfully, held a decent selection, and I flipped through the stations until I landed on “I Put a Spell on You,” letting the catchy rhythm fill the room. Returning to the tub, the bubbles had begun to rise, taking over the top of the tub and softening the water. I turned off the faucet, sliding out of my panties and leaving them discarded on the floor where I had stood, a small offering to the water.

Stepping into the warmth of the tub, I sank into the luxurious water, laying my head back and taking a deep breath. The chills that always accompanied such moments washed over me, a delightful shiver that heightened my senses. The minutes passed slowly, punctuated by the rise and fall of the bubbles, until I heard the faint slide of a lock and then the soft click of the door opening behind me.

“You’re early too…” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the water.

Without a word, he dropped his jacket at the door, walked over to me, and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close for a hard, deep kiss. Reaching up, I touched his face with my hand, caressing the back of his neck, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. He stood up, removing his shirt and pants, and asked me to close my eyes.

“Crimson and Clover” began to play, and as the music filled the room, I could feel the water ripple around my chest. His presence was palpable, a warm, insistent pressure against my back. He slid in behind me, kissing my shoulders, the scent of his skin intoxicating. Reaching for the glass of wine, he finished it off before playfully whispering in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. Setting the empty glass down, he grabbed my shoulders and began to massage them down my arms, then back up again, smoothing his hands down my sides, around my waist, and then back up to brush my hair from my face. The warmth of the tub water couldn’t completely quell the chills that still clung to my skin, a reminder of the anticipation that had consumed me.

His hand caressed my stomach, moving up to my breasts. Pinching my nipples firmly between his fingers, my body tensed, responding instinctively to his touch. I could hear a soft laugh from him as his hands moved downward in response to my movement. A stronger wave of tingles washed over me, a primal shiver that spread through my entire body. As he massaged me gently, his hands moved between my legs on my softly shaven skin, a tantalizing invitation. I leaned back into him, feeling his cock at my lower back, the anticipation building with each passing moment. I’d been waiting for this all week, and his touch was nothing short of incredible. Parting my lips, he slipped a finger into me, feeling the silkiness of my excitement. He began to move his hand in a rhythmic pattern, slipping a finger in and out of me, teasing and tantalizing. I could hear a soft moan escape my lips as I cummed, lost in the pleasure of the moment. He didn't let go until my body stopped shuddering, holding me close as he watched over me.

I lay my head back onto his shoulder, telling him how much I had enjoyed it, still feeling the warmth of his body against mine. The silence, as erotic as it was, felt almost unbearable. Turning to face him, I ran my warm hands over his erection, stroking it up and down, paying special attention to swirl my hand around the sensitive tip. He was moaning softly, fighting not to slip backward into the water and succumb to my touch. Wrapping my legs around his waist, he pulled me in closer, and we kissed again, the scent of his skin intoxicating. I could feel his erection beneath me, and I moved my hips in circles to catch him, only letting the tip enter me. Fighting not to let his erection in farther, I pulled away then back again, enjoying our tip fucking. Not being able to resist any longer, I let him slip inside me; slowly! And deep! A feeling that could only be described as irrational. Feeling him there, my walls gripping him, made me moan a somewhat inaudible word that was only meant for the two of us to hear. He breathed harder, and the water started to list from side to side as he moved into my hips -and back out again trying not to splash too much.

Tempting an orgasm was something I loved to tease with, so I stopped him, raising my hands to his face. We kissed gently before we both stood up, wrapping towels around each other’s dripping bodies and moving to our bedroom. The lingering heat of the water, the scent of lavender, and the memory of his touch would stay with me long after we were gone. The anticipation had been rewarded, and the pleasure, as always, was exquisite. As we lay tangled together in the bed, the remnants of our shared ecstasy still clinging to us, I knew that this was just the beginning. The night was young, and the possibilities for pleasure were endless.

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White Linen, Red Wine, Blissful Soak

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