I don't know if you'll agree that this belongs in this sub, but I think that it does. We've all got our kinks, but after they've been played out it's important that the person you're with knows that they're more than just something to fuck and toy with.

We lie there, both breathing hard, both covered in each other; a tangle of limbs and smells and thoughts. Our muscles ache, our minds are satisfied but exhausted. It would be the easiest thing in the world for me to fall asleep, but you mean so much more to me than that.

I gently lift your arm from my chest, slide my leg from between yours, and get up. You look so perfect lying there, your cheeks flushed red, your hair wet and clinging to the nape of your neck, your back lifting and falling as you catch your breath. I take a moment to memorise the shape and smell of you -of us- and then head into the bathroom.

I run the tap in the sink and while the water heats up I take the chance to breathe in the scent of my fingers, still smeared as they are in your pussy. I grip my soft -but still swollen- cock in my hand and pull downwards along its length, coating my hand in our mixed juices. I lick us from my palm.

As the steam starts to cloud up the mirror I soap my hands and, with some regret, wash us away. It's important that my hands are clean for what's to follow.

I take the large bowl from under the sink, and test the temperature of the water before filling it. I mix in some of that expensive soap you love the smell of and watch as the water forms bubbles. When the bowl is full enough I lift it from the sink, grab a couple of our fluffiest towels and a soft washcloth, and head back into the bedroom.

When I get there you're already standing at the bottom of the bed, a sleepy, sticky, beautiful mess of a girl. I put the bowl on the floor, spread out a towel and you step onto it, stretching your neck from side to side as you do. I kiss you lightly on the forehead.

We use a lot of words during our sessions. It's who we are as people. We like to talk, and words have power for us. I've called you the filthiest things, and you've whispered hard in my ear that you want to be called worse, and worse. But now, in the afterwards, we don't speak at all.

I move behind you and dip the cloth in the bowl, letting the warm soapy water soak into the soft fabric, before lifting it out. I lift your hair away from your neck and press the cloth against your nape, letting the heat penetrate your still-tight muscles. The water spills down your spine, and you arch your back in pleasure as I begin to wash you.

I draw the cloth along your shoulders and down your arms. When I reach your hands I wash your palms and between your fingers. The excess water drips onto the towel. It might seem silly to others, but I know the thought of soaking the floor stresses you out; that's why I brought the extra towel. Right now, in this moment, I want you free to drift into a happy place that's fully devoid of any little niggling worries.

I wash back up your arms, lifting each in turn and holding them above your head while I soap your underarms. When they're both clean, I wash your back, pressing harder into your shoulders to release just enough of the pent up tension you hold there, and to ease the ache around the spots where I bit hard into you.

I move round to the front of you next, pausing just long enough to appreciate how pretty you are. I notice the slightly raised ridges of skin around your neck where earlier I had gripped you tightly. I press the cloth against your face and rub the traces of my cum away. The little gasp of pleasure that escapes your lips makes me smile.

I wash your neck and your chest. I lift each breast in turn to wash the skin usually hidden by them. I enjoy watching the water run down your stomach and between your legs. I think that the soft heat of it is already bringing some respite to your no doubt aching and tender pussy.

I crouch in front of you and wipe the cloth over your stomach. You shiver a little, and I remind myself to keep things moving a little bit quicker. I don't want you to start to feel cold.

I bend one knee, like I'm proposing to you, and lift your left leg and place your foot on my knee. I soap your thigh and down your calf, reaching your foot and making sure to get between your toes. I dip the cloth back into the bowl often, to rinse away the dirt and to reload it with warmer, cleaner water. I gently place your left foot back on the towel and lift your right leg and repeat. This time, when I'm finished with your toes, I pull your knee slightly outwards so that I've got easier access to your pussy.

From this angle I can't quite see your hole, but I know from experience that it'll still be slightly gaping and it will for sure be tender to the touch.

I dip the cloth back into the bowl and then press it against your pussy and hold it there, just like I did with your neck. And just like with your neck I let the heat and the softness soak into you. I hold it there for a full half minute, before I start washing your pussy. I'm gentle but firm. I don't want to cause you any pain, but I do want to wash you properly. Through the cloth I press finger against your hole, feel you flinch, and rub the cloth between your lips. I won't get all of my cum out of you, but I know you like to sleep with a little bit of me still inside you anyway.

I dip the cloth back into the bowl, and then repeat the process with your asshole. That hole always seems to regain its shape much quicker than your pussy does, but I make sure I'm just as gentle. When your asshole is as clean as the rest of your body I place your foot back onto the towel.

You stand there, eyes closed, already three quarters asleep. Some nights we do this in the shower so that I can wash your hair too, but tonight you're far too sleepy for that.

I stand up, take the towel from where I threw it on the bed, and begin to dry you. You're never very wet, but I still take my time to make sure I get into all your perfect creases and folds. The air that just a few minutes ago smelled of sex, now smells of your soap and freshly laundered towel.

Washing complete, I walk over to your drawers and remove a pair of panties and a set of PJs. The panties I select are plain white, and made of the softest cotton. The PJs are flannel and again very, very soft. The are quite possibly the least sexy item of clothing you -or anyone else- has ever owned, but that doesn't matter. What matters now is how you feel, not how you look. And besides, you could dress in a sack and still be the sexiest woman in the world to me.

Returning to where you stand, I kneel in front of you and hold the panties open, allowing you to step into them. I pull them up over your legs and hips, making sure they're tucked snuggly between your legs. Your PJ bottoms follow in the same manner. The top half has buttons up the front, so I stand, lift one of your arms, and slip it inside the sleeve, pulling the top over back then repeating with your other arm. I stand behind you and reach under your arms so that I can fasten the buttons.

When you're dressed I take you by the hand and lead you back to bed. I only release hand to grab the blanket from where it sits on top of the dresser and quickly spread it over the bed, and the various wet patches of us that adorn the sheets. I then lift you up and lay you down as gently as I can.

You tell me often that I know you better than anyone else in the world does, and I take pride in that. But, I always find it hard to tell if you're properly asleep, or just lying there with your eyes closed. I know that doesn't matter, but I wish I could know the exact moment when you slip softly into your dreams.

Until you do, I get onto the bed as quietly as I can, and I hold you. Nothing fancy - just my arm around you and your head on my chest. As we lie there in the darkness I try to listen to your breathing, to see if I can find that exact time where you fall properly asleep.

Because, my beautiful girl, when you drift into a gentle, peaceful sleep, I know that I've made you feel safe, and loved.

It's a stark contrast to how I made you feel earlier in the evening, but that's exactly why it's so important. You need to be hurt, and I need to hurt you. But you also need to be loved, and I need to show you that I love you. We're just two sides of the same fucked up, twisted, wonderful coin.

Sweet dreams x