I was pondering a piece. And while I was, I wondered if it might appear as a dom-sub piece. And, to be honest, I didn't know if it was or it wasn't (blush). But then I pondered it a bit more, and I realised there were two sides to it - or at least two. So I wrote it from at least two of the perspectives. There's another one here:
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BATH NIGHT - F4A
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I hope I managed the A part of this - that the 'unknown other' could be either gender. If I messed up, the fault is mine entire, and if anyone points anything out, I'll try to fix it (blush). Oh - and I apologise in advance. After all, I'm an Idiot (blushes again).
So here it is - BATH NIGHT. Is it erotic? Buggered if I know - that's for the reader :-). Over to y'all...
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BATH NIGHT
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It’s Wednesday –and I need a bath.
I unlock the door of the apartment, and I go in. It’s been a long day, but now it’s over. A drink can wait. Food can wait. Those are for later. Now is for hot water, steam and bubbles. I go to the bathroom and I take my cell out of my pocket. I make sure it’s on and I put it on the chair next to the bath. Then I start the water running – all hot. I pour in the oils and the crystals, and the bubbles start to form. I smile. I’ve got muscles I need to un-kink, and kinks I need to – but that’s not for now. Not yet. I turn on the bathroom heater, and I close the door to. The steam is for me, not the rest of the apartment, and the heater will help it stay as steam and not condense. I lean over the bath. The steam rising from the bath kisses at my shirt, sneaking under the gaps between the buttons and licking at my chest, kissing it - so soft and hot. My nipples harden – and I smile wider.
I love bath night.
I take off my shoes and set them outside the door. The steam wouldn’t do them any good. Then I go back into the bathroom. The water pours, and the steam gathers. I breathe in, deep. I can feel the steam coiling in my lungs. I know I can’t really, but that’s not what my head tells me – or my nipples. As I breathe in the steam, my cock gets in on the debate and tells logic to fuck off. Because the steam is sliding out of my lungs, burning hot, and somehow it’s sliding through me, and slipping into my cock. And it’s still hot, still burning, but it’s condensing, and leaking out of my cock as pre-cum. And I agree with my cock. Logic can fuck off. Because even if it’s impossible, that’s what’s happening. And I breathe in steam, and my lungs fill with it, and it slides into my hard cock and condenses into burning, delicious wetness.
Fuck, I love bath night.
I slip the single button of my pants. I ease down the zip, slide my pants down and step out of them. I pick them up, and fold them neatly on the chair. The mirror is already covered in steam, so it’s a good job I don’t have to look in it. I can feel it – feel the wet soaking my briefs. It’s steam – but not from the air. It’s the steam from my lungs, the steam in my cock, and it’s leaking out of me.
I breathe in deep, and I feel the wet heat and hardness grow between my legs.
The steam is still kissing my shirt and licking. I know it wants in, to taste me. I unbutton, slowly. Then I slip out of the shirt and lay it with my pants. The hot steam twists and curls over my chest, licking at my hard nipples, and I wish the steam had teeth. I can almost feel them – teeth closing hard on my hardness, moments of bright, sweet pain.
I fucking love bath night.
I push my briefs down, letting them drop to the floor. Then I pull off my socks, quite possibly the most ridiculous sartorial invention of all time, and take them off legs already starting to sweat. At last I’m naked. Naked, and the steam can play. Naked, and it can kiss me wherever it wants to kiss. It slips and slides between my legs, licking and drinking at my hard cock. It slips over my lips, teasing them to open. So I open. I open my mouth, and I breathe my hot, wet lover in, licking my lips to taste my lover’s fingers. The steam licks at my chest, and I clasp my steam lover’s hands, sliding our hands over me, over my sweat, for more hot kisses. And if the steam lacks teeth, it doesn’t have to. The sharp tips of my finger nails close on my nipples, biting for my steam lover’s teeth. My nails dig deep, and my steam lover bits hard on my nipples. The hot, sharp pain is delicious. My mouth opens wide, and my tongue comes out, stretching, reaching in the air, stiff and hard, searching for my lover’s hot tongue to caress.
I pinch my nipples harder. God, I love bath night.
I reach for my pants and I reach in to the back pocket. I find it, and I put it on the chair next to the bath. Then it’s time. I turn off the water, and I step into the bath. The bubbles slide up my legs, eager lips reaching for a cock I’m more than happy to let them taste. As I lower myself into water that’s just the right side of unbearably hot, the bubbles slide up my stomach and take eager possession of my willingly offered nipples. I lie back. Then I reach out to the chair, and I pick it up. I pick it up, I slip the blindfold over my eyes – and I wait, the blood pounding in my ears and the darkness a delight.
My cell rings. Once, twice, three times. It stops.
I wait.
My cell rings again. Once, then again.
And I wait.
Then I hear it. The door, unlocking. The door, opening. The footsteps, coming closer to the bathroom. A moment’s pause – and I hear the door, opening.
And it’s bath night. And you’re here.
I listen to the rustle of clothing. Then you reach into the water, and you take my hand. You lift it, and brush my fingers over your blindfold. Then you put my fingers to your lips. You kiss them, so gently, just the tips. Then your tongue slips from your mouth, and licks them, each finger tip one by one. You lick each tip, then suck it between your lips. And when you’re done, when each finger has had your tongue hello, you open wide, and you push my fingers into your mouth. You keep your mouth open as I caress your tongue, as I pinch it. Then I pull my hand out of your mouth, and put it behind your head, pulling. I pull you down to me, to my own open mouth, and my tongue says its own hello to yours. I kiss you, my tongue in you, your tongue in me, and without a single word, your tongue tells me how glad you are to be here – how much you love bath night too. As you kiss me, your hands reach down and steal my hard nipples from my foam lover. Your fingers take possession of my nipples. You pinch and twist, stretch and tease, sweet pain and sweeter pleasure. And as you use my nipples, your tongue slides from my mouth, and down the side of my neck. Your teeth nip and bite as you lick, and your tongue burns down my neck, down over my collar bone and slowly, oh so slowly, down to my chest where it hides under the bubbles. You lick along me, your lips under the foam, and your lips close over my nipple as you suck me. You suck – then your teeth close again as my steam lover could not, and you bite – first soft and teasing, then hard and pleasing. Fire leaps into my nipples as your mouth wanders between them – your tongue so stiff and hard, soft and gentle, your lips so demanding and yet so much what I need. And your teeth. Always your teeth, and the fire, and the blight pain that is pleasure.
I love bath night.
Then you leave my chest, and your cock-stiff tongue slides down my stomach, under water still only just this side of bearable. You lick over my stomach, your breath held tight. Your tongue slides over me, and even though it’s under the burning wetness of the bath, still it leaves a wet all its own, one that burns my skin even hotter. And you slip into my navel, licking and probing, and your teeth nip at the soft, willingly offered flesh of me. And as you slide, I spread my feet and brace them at the end of the bath, and my head, and I arch my back into a bend as tight lifted as I can. Because I don’t want your tongue to stop. And it doesn’t. As I arch, and I gasp, your tongue slips and slides, and it finds my hard cock. And as your mouth slips onto my cock, as you slip onto my cock, you lift your hand and you put it over my mouth, and pinch my nose. And as you suck and lick, lick and suck, and your tongue probes at the knot of my cock, as I try to moan, to gasp, to scream in pleasure and in pain, you hold my breath in me – and it is delight and delirium both. And you hold my mouth and my nose, and you lick, and you hold, and you suck, and I feel it rising, its own mad choke and spasm of throat and lungs, of cock and balls. And you hold and you lick, you bite and you suck – and I want to come. But I know I can’t – not yet. And you tease and you tease – and then you r mough slips from my cock, and as you do, you let go. You let go, and I scream into the twisting, burning steam, the sweet agony of not-yet coming more sweet, somehow, than the mad spurt of heat and me filling your mouth.
Fuck, I love bath night.
Then you reach under my arms, and you lift. You lift me, and I come up out of the bath, my cock still sweetly hard and shivering from your lips and tongue. You lift me, and I step out of the bath. I step out, and I turn to the wall, and I lean forward, my hands braced and my legs wide apart and my back dipped and curved to lift what we both want you to see – both want you to use. And we are not disappointed. And your hands spread my buttocks wide open. You spread me, and open me, and your cock-tip kisses its destination. You probe at my ass hole – and you thrust. You thrust, and again I tighten, sweet agony as you force your way into me. I whimper – and then I moan. I moan – and then I whimper. And you take me and you use me – and you force your way past the ring of muscle I try to hold tight. Force past – and in. Force in – and thrust. And you’re deep in my ass, so very deep – and your tongue licks at the back of my neck. You lick – then your teeth take hold, a small fold of my skin between them. And as you drive your cock in and out of my ass, you bite and suck, you lick and kiss – and the fire from my ass hole rises up through my stomach, and the fire from my neck slides down my back and belly, until they meet. Until they meet, and I can take no more, and I scream my loudest – come my hardest. And I slide down the wall, and I collapse to the floor.
And I wait.
I wait, and I hear the rustling of clothes.
I wait, and I hear the soft pad of footsteps.
I wait – and I hear the front door close.
I wait – and I take off my blindfold.
And I’m alone. As I should be. As I need to be. As we need us to be.
Then I get dressed, and I drain the bath, and I clean and I tidy – until there’s no sign we were here. And I leave the apartment, whose occupants I know are on their backs on a beach in Bermuda. And as I walk away, I throw the pre-paid cell into a trash can. Because that’s how I need it to be. How we need it to be. And I grin, as I wonder when next time will be. When I see the personal ad in the paper, and this time it’s not mine for you, but yours for me. This time it’s not my cell number, it’s yours. A number I’ll track to an empty apartment I never found, but you did. And I’ll ring your number and let it ring three times, though I know you won’t answer. Then I’ll ring again, and let it ring twice. And I’ll go to the apartment, and I’ll use my skeleton keys to pick the lock – and I’ll go in.
Because it will be bath night – but this time it will be yours.
And I wonder if you’ve ever peeked from under the blindfold you’ll be wearing. I know I never have, and I doubt you have either. Because we don’t wish to know who the other is, we two whose eyes have never met. We don’t need sweet nothings, or soft promises. We don’t need lies, we need our truth. We just need what we have.
The heat.
The steam.
The sweet darkness.
And a bath.