They had shared a bath together after his suggestion. She was never going to turn down that opportunity. As the vapours rose from the water’s surface, they lay there facing one another, eyes closed and listening to the quiet hiss of tiny bubbles popping around them. Her arms draped over his calf muscles, hands on his knees – keeping them from getting cold. His hands played with making mini-currents flow beneath the water as she felt the small waves hit her thighs. It was comforting and warming to see her smiled reflected back at her on his own face. Perfection in a moment, cut off from the rest of the world.
She left the confines of the bathtub first – she could never stand more than twenty minutes of soaking, no matter how delightful the company was, be it a book or her man. It was also her whim to let him see her leave, see the trace of foam trail down her body, falling over her lower back and between her buttocks. Her little play of exhibitionism in minute form. Hair sodden, she wrung out the excess water before sweeping it up into a towel, still conscious of his eyes following her every move, then left the room. She had to prepare for the next step in the night’s follies to be spent together.
Skin still heated from their soaking, they had to make the most of their mutual warmth before the cool air that surrounded them took hold. What had started as a simple massage after the bath, something to take away the aches gathered from the day, had transformed. As she looked down on him now she felt the welcome stirrings return to her. She inhaled his aromatic skin, she had used their favourite oil. A heady scent, tailored supposedly to intensify sensual feelings. She needed no extra input really, what with that fine specimen that lay before her, but everything was a positive contribution.
As her eyes gazed over his creamy skin, it hit her. The desire to spoil. The sensation to corrupt was overwhelming. He was already writhing under her hands from the massage, it was only a little step further into writhing from another kind of (mis)treament. From the focus of her touch over his ass he had become her plaything. She could manipulate his reaction with a flick of a nail, and she adored that power. Light smoothing quickly transferred into a stronger grip of the flesh beneath her fingers, his moans became louder. Sweeping her hand up his back, fingers strayed up into his hair, spidering over his scalp with a firm touch, raking and lightly pulling. She wanted him to move his head with her movement. He didn’t disappoint. As she did this, she had moved herself upwards, placing her face close to his. She inhaled his heat that emanated from his body, full of fire and masculine need. She felt the scent invade her body, filtering down to her fingertips and toes. Both awakening her senses and lulling her into a hypnotic state of desire for him alone.
All she could see was coloured by passion. The red lines her nails had made. The blush of his buttocks from her spankings. She felt the raised temperature as she bit into the flesh, nipping gently. At one point he had tried to move her hand away as she caught at a ticklish spot. Blissfully, he had reached his complaining hand behind his back, and she fought with him to grip his arm there, holding it in position as in mock arrest, a heavenly image. Bending down she kissed and licked and sucked on those fingers of his in her teasing way, knowing what a suggestive image she imitated. She knew she was aroused and highly turned on, but still she felt her hand slinking down between her own legs to relieve herself of some built-up tensions. She liked to think of him noticing her moistened fingers as they returned to his own skin.
It was coming to the stage of things that she knew was the deciding moment. As much as she adored her domination of him in this manner, she looked forward to the switch. The moment when she ordered him to face her once more, lay on his back. As soon as that position was assumed, she knew her dominion was over. She could not resist now what was before her. He would take hold of her and pull her in to that strong kiss of his. At once both an embrace of deepest thanks and a reassertion of his powerful lusts that swayed her will. She melted. She was his. Wholly.
Now as she lay there cradled by his arms whilst he stared down at her into her eyes, she knew the second half of their night was just beginning. She prepared herself as best as she could and let herself slip completely into his hands.