A Good Night

I come in every evening while he showers and wash his back. It’s a ritual that I thoroughly enjoy, I get to look at him, the water dripping down his skin, all pink and warm from the hot water. I get to touch him, not in a sexual way, but in a loving, caring way. I scrub the sudsy wash cloth all over his back, sometimes rubbing up and down, sometimes in a swirly swish. I watch patterns form in the soap bubbles and then quickly swipe them away. We talk during this short period, mostly of unimportant things, but I have his full attention and he has mine. It’s a small intimate moment that adds to all the other little moments that create our life.

“Kneel down on the floor and wait for me to finish, blue”, he commands, his voice rising with the steam swirling in the air.

I kneel as instructed, exactly as he wants, sitting on my knees, arms crossed behind my back. I have on nothing but a simple black thong, no makeup, no jewelry, my wet hair is pulled up into a knot on top of my head. I sit and wait, trying to be patient, but my pussy spasms intermittently in anticipation. I can feel a heat rising in me and know that I am beginning to flush. My mind wanders through all the possible scenarios of what might happen next, but there are too many and my mind is too full of smut and sex.

The water shuts off with a clang and then there is a silent pause, I know he’s just standing there on the other side of the curtain allowing the water to drip slowly from his body. We can’t see each other, but we can feel the energy bouncing back and forth between us. I certainly feel something.

The curtain is suddenly pulled to the side with a woosh, metal sliding on metal as the curtain rings glide over the metal rod. He’s standing there in the tub, looking powerful and sexy, his long wet curls are slicked back off his face, trailing down his shoulders in dark squiggles. His freshly scrubbed tattoos are bright against his clean skin, and small droplets of water cling to the hairs on his chest and the curly nest above his cock.

“Come dry me off”, his voice breaks the silence and I am eager to get my hands on him.

I stand and start at the top of his body and pat his face dry, moving slowly down, paying attention to each and every body part. I kneel down, gently drying around his cock and balls, his inner thighs, the strong muscles of his legs and his tender ticklish feet. When I’m done I look up at him, one of my favorite views is here from below. He takes the towel from me, quickly grazing the spots that I missed, and tosses it on the hook.

There is that moment of hesitation, an instant where he doesn’t say anything and I know he wants me to just know what to do. So I do what I really want to do, what I think he needs from me. I take his cock into my mouth, still warm from his shower, not yet hard. I love sucking his cock like this, freshly washed, still wet from his last rinse, the way it softly fills my mouth until it hardens. I put my hands on his thighs, and rub slowly up and down, curling my fingers in so that I tickle and scratch him with my nails. I reach up and grab his balls in my hand, circling at the base and gently tugging them downwards, pulling with the perfect amount of pressure. He groans and pets the top of my head with his hands and rubs his fingertips into my hair. I know that I am doing well without having to be told.

He is fully hard now, the smooth skin of his cock glides effortlessly in and out of my mouth, coated with a thick sheen of my saliva. I don’t need to suck hard, that will only tire me out. I loosen my grip slightly and increase my tempo. The slow sensual sucking and licking has become a vigorous sloppy face fucking. Drool drips down my chin and splatters on the floor below me, and I reach my hands behind him to grab his butt cheeks and push him further into my mouth, down my throat. I feel so powerful in this moment, I have made him like this. I am the reason for his cries, for his pleasure.

When he comes, he pulls my face back and rests the tip of his cock against my cheek, right next to my mouth, so that I can reach my tongue out and taste him. It drips down my face and mixes with the trail of spit that has already accumulated on my chin, splattering in droplets on the top of my breasts. I smile up at him, and he smiles back. He holds my hair in his hand and slowly guides his cock back into my mouth. I know to gently lick every last drop, to delicately clean him off.

“That was really good, blue!” he croaks, and I laugh, a little prideful. “Now get in the shower and clean yourself up. I’ll meet you in my room. It’s your turn!”

I’ve been on simmer, waiting and wondering what tonight would bring, so I eagerly jump back into the shower and rinse off. I slip a hand down between my legs and it comes away coated in my arousal. This is certainly shaping up to be a good night!