bathing beauty
The bathroom was dark, save for the few thick red candles that cast a ruddy glow over the normally bright tile. Sultry beats poured from the speakers, filling the entire house with an eastern rhythm that sounded of heat and spice. A scented fog rolled through the room, the steam of the shower adding a humid depth to the air. A figure moved against the cool tile.
On her knees in the large tub, while the water streaming from the silver showerheads turned her pale skin a heated pink, she ground back against the tile. Flesh slick and writhing, as she pushed the vibrator that was affixed to the bottom of the tub deeper. The water from above sluiced over naked curves, thighs taut with the effort of her trembling body, rocking and pushing on that vibe. With her head tilted back, red hair plastered wet and streaming down her back, she gasped as the water ran down her face.
Dancing on that large vibe, the length of it disappearing inside her with each metered bounce of her smooth ass, her hands slid up the shape of her stomach as she arched into the spray of warm water. Rubbing upwards, her palms cupped her heavy breasts, fingers teasing her nipples, twisting and tugging as she knew he liked.
He knew exactly where to find her when he came home to the sound of that music pumping through the house. He had sent her there after all, his little bath slut. There were some days that he could hardly get her out of it. But when she finally did come out of her decadent soaking, she was smooth and hungry, filled with a singular need that he cultivated in her. It was a place where the world faded and she was left with only the knowledge of her body's hungers, what was left was pure slut.
Steam rolled past the door as he opened it, moving into the sweltering confines of the bathroom with soft sounds that did not penetrate the music overwhelming the house. It took only a moment for his eyes to adjust to the reddish hue of the bathroom lighting. It took only a moment more for his eyes to find the figure of his girl on her knees, arched with reckless abandon, her face a visage of pure lusting heat. Standing, shrouded by the rolling clouds of scented fog, He watched her in silence. His eyes dark and hungry...patient.
She didn't yet know that she was no longer alone. She wasn't aware that someone was watching as her fingers twisted her nipples, pulling them until the slick flesh popped from her pinching grasp, a sensation that caused her lips to part with a sharp sigh of pleasured pain. She ground down on the vibe, pushing to the point of discomfort, as the smooth tip of it thrust deep beneath the weight of her grinding body.
Lost in the sensations of water and lust, she wasn't aware that he was watching her move on her knees. It wasn't until she sensed a motion that her eyes snapped open, pupils wide in the dim light of the bathroom, so wide, her eyes appeared black and heated. She didn't speak, she just looked at him with an unwavering gaze that spoke of blatant need, a need that was echoed in the even blacker look of his expression.
Without breaking that burning contact of eyes and intentions, he stalked through the bathroom towards the tub. Pushing the curtain further aside, allowing the water to spray across the bathroom floor, he stepped into the spray of water before her kneeling form. She was frozen in place as she lifted her head to keep her eyes locked on his face. She watched his eyes, oblivious to the water running over his shoulders, matting the fabric of his dress shirt to his shoulders and chest, while his hands dropped to the button of his slacks without preamble.
There wasn't any need for words, she knew that look, the one that tightened her belly and sent her heart into a wild frenzied pace. She knew, as he pulled his swollen cock free from his pants, that this wasn't the time for coy gestures and teasing. Her eyes dropped to the head of his pole, his hand holding the base before he tangled his other hand in the wet crimson of her hair. He pulled and she gave in, the length of his shaft slipping into the softness of her mouth, the feel of flesh so much cooler than the steam of water surrounding them.
He was rough where she was soft. His grip unforgiving in her hair as he used her mouth, pushing past the strictures of her throat until she nearly choked before melting into the bruising grip. Each thrust of his hips and jerk of his hair-wrapped hand was a violent affirmation of his control over her flesh, over her spirit. Pushing her down onto that humming vibe forced a moan past her lips, as that connection caused another decadent stab of pleasured pain.
Ground down against that thick shape, her body bent by the hand in her hair, her knees aching and trembling, as her tongue found the places she knew made him groan. Slick and swirling, she tried to use her mouth to give him pleasure, even as he gave her pain and hunger in return. But he knew the pleasure he wanted to take from her - and it was a taking, not the sensual caresses of a loving mouth. A low growl briefly penetrated the crescendo of drum and horn, as he thrust himself deep again and again, leaving her gasping without finesse or measure of control.
She didn't bother holding his hips, that grappling of bodies wouldn't help her now. Instead she continued to tug her nipple as her other hand snuck low to the steaming split between her taut thighs. Flicking a nail over her wanton clit, she ground deeper on the vibe, while her attention remained on the thick cock stretching her abused throat, stealing gasps of air between thrusts and gasps of pleasure.
Nearly pulled off her knees by the grip in her hair, as her body spasmed deliciously, He leaned into her face, hips thrusting with a frenzied release of self-control. She moaned quietly around that unforgiving shape, knots of apprehension and pleasure and pain, all wound through her. Her moan was echoed by another deep sound of impending pleasure from above, it was a sound she knew and cherished. And it was a sound followed by the sudden release that slid down her throat, as he mashed her face against his flesh and held her there for stretching moments, while the relatively cooler fluid of his cum filled her tense belly.
She shuddered violently, a faint stab of panic punctuating her own climax as breath was nowhere to be found, her body wound so tightly, that she came like a whip coil, the pleasure lashing out as he released her. Gasping in a lungs fill of air, as her body arched with a cry given fuel by her desperate breathes. Falling forward, her hands splashing against the bottom of the water-coated tub, she crouched there at his feet, shaking with the force of his release and her own pleasure.
She crouched there for what seemed an eternity, trembling like a frightened child, until she felt his hand brush the wet hair back from her cheeks, his body looming over her. Once again the tender lover, his hands smoothed along the steamy lines of naked flesh, stroking his girl, until her head lifted slowly. Helping her to her feet beneath the heated spray of the showerheads, her eyes watching his face once again, with the naked openness of unequivocal devotion.
Slowly, unsteadily, she raised her hands to his chest and began to unbutton the soaked dress shirt. Peeling it off his chest and shoulders, carefully removing his clothing now, when the mood was so much softer. She leaned into him and pressed a loving kiss to the lines of his chest, whispering a soft "I love You, Master," against the strength of his flesh. The whisper was answered with a tender kiss against the line of her flushed forehead, as she discarded the shirt and then his pants.
And like two lovers, they washed away the darkness beneath the comforting heat of water, touching each other with renewed tenderness and care. Before, wrapped in towels, they moved their caresses to the bedroom for a softer kind of communion.
