He glances down and then winks at me. “Don’t worry. I have plenty of them. Behave.”
Drawing me in tighter, he nuzzles that hypersensitive part of my neck. I squirm with pleasure. It sends a rush of tingles to my already over-sensitized sex. The throbbing won’t calm down.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah.”
“How does your p*ssy
feel now?”
“f*ck
able.”
He chortles. “You’re a natural stand-up comic.”
“That’s not funny.”
“C’mon. The bath is probably ready.”
Piece by piece, he undresses me, beginning with his shirt. He then unzips the dress and lifts it over my head. After tossing both garments to the marble floor on top of my panties, he unhooks my bra, and once again, I’m totally naked. Bared to him. With lust dancing in his eyes, he reverently kisses each of my breasts. And then twists the nipples, just enough to inflict the perfect measure of pain. I let out a light gasp.
He squeezes the buds harder between his fingers. “Jesus. You so f*ck
ing turn me on.”
“Does that mean we’re going to f*ck
again?” I breathe out, my arousal taunting me. I search his hooded eyes for the promise of more.
“Maybe. But you’re not going to know until you take off my jeans.”
That’s all that separates me from his cock. The strain of his erection against his fly is so palpable I can practically hear it crying out to be set free. A pool of wet heat gathers between my inner thighs. I’m still so f*ck
ing sore, but I want him again in the worst way. While he continues to tweak my sensitive, hardening nipples, I hastily unbutton his jeans, unzip the fly, and shove them down his taut legs. His gigantic cock as I imagined is ready for action. While the tub continues to fill, he kicks off his shoes, steps out of his jeans, and then draws me close to him.
“I so f*ck
ing want you, Zoey.” He rubs his dick against my slick p*ssy
before smacking a hot kiss on my forehead. “C’mon let’s get into the bath before I bury my cock inside you and have you overflowing with my cum.”
He lifts me into his arms and carries me to the tub. My eyes practically pop out of my sockets. Holy cow! I’ve never seen a tub like this before. Circular, massive, and at least four-feet deep, it dominates the expansive space. He sets me down gently and turns off the water. The tub is almost filled to the brim, and a thick layer of bubbly white foam coats the water’s surface. The intoxicating scent of lavender drifts to my nose. His words replay in my head. I so f*ck
ing want you, Zoey. Again! I’m delirious with desire. This fairy tale better never end.
Brandon steps into the tub first, one long muscular leg after the other. He gracefully lowers himself to a sitting position, until his body all but disappears beneath the foamy bubbles. Leaning back against the basin, he lets out a loud contented “Aah.” I wonder—is that the sexy sound he makes when he gets a blowjob?
“Get your sweet ass in here,” he orders, curtailing my ruminations.
I carefully get into the enormous round tub. Brandon grips my hand while I lower myself and sink my hips between his steepled legs. He slides me tight against him so we’re flesh to flesh. His thighs press against me and I can feel his hard length along my backside. The bubbles come up almost to my chin, covering all of me including my breasts. I feel awkward.
“Brandon, I’ve never taken a bath with a man.” Let alone, a man like you, I add silently. The truth, with my fear of drowning, I never took baths. Not until Brandon taught me how to swim did I indulge in one and since then, very few.
“So this is a first?”
“Yes,” I say timidly. Everything on this dreamy trip has been a first with him, with the the earth-shattering orgasms he’s given me topping the list.
Drawing me closer to him, he nuzzles the back of my neck. “Then, I’m going to have to make it unforgettable.”
Another yes! This one silent but punctuated with an exclamation point. My head folds forward. I’m so ready for him.
With one hand, he grabs a large sponge, and then with the other, he lifts up my long wet hair. He begins to run circles along my upper back and shoulders, and as gentle as they are, I flinch.
“What’s the matter baby? Am I hurting you?”
“No, no, I’m okay.”
He sponges me again, and again, despite his light touch, I can’t help jerking.
I hear him splash aside the bubble-coated water.
“Shit. Did I do this?”
He must have discovered all the scratches on my back from the wall-banger f*ck
. The stucco scraped my skin and bruised my spine. It’s not really his fault.
“No,” I reply softly. “If walls could talk…”
“Oh, baby.” He instantly flutter kisses all the blemishes. So tenderly, it’s as if butterflies are dancing across my back. I hum.