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 - M4A
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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 weight of my breasts pushing at the silk of my shirt. The steam rising from the bath kisses at the silk, licks at it. The grey silk darkens slightly as it gets damp, and I feel the steam as it licks more at my breasts, as it kisses them, so soft and hot, as though my bra isn’t there. I smile again. Because it isn’t. Bras aren’t for bath night. My nipples harden – and I smile wider.
I love bath night.
I slip out of my work heels and set them outside the door with my purse. The steam wouldn’t do either of 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 cunt 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 slit. And it’s still hot, still burning, but it’s condensing, and my cunt is soaking. And I agree with my cunt. 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 cunt and condenses into burning, delicious wetness.
Fuck, I love bath night.
I reach behind me and I slip the single button of my skirt. I ease down the zip, slide my skirt down and step out of it. I pick it up, and fold it 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 panties. It’s steam – but not from the air. It’s the steam from my lungs, the steam in my cunt, and it’s leaking out of me.
I breathe in deep, and I feel the wet heat 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 skirt. The hot steam twists and curls round my breasts, cupping them, hot fingers walking over every inch. My nipples are hard, and I wish the steam had teeth. I can almost feel them – teeth closing hard on my hardness, moments of bright, sweet pain in the tips of my tits.
I fucking love bath night.
I push my panties down, letting them drop to the floor. Then I reach down and I unclip the garter straps from my stockings. I slide my stockings down legs already starting to sweat. Then I unclip the belt. 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 the condensed steam dripping from my pussy. 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 breasts, and I clasp my steam lover’s hands under them, lifting them for more attention, 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 in my tits 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 out through the bathroom door, holding it closed so as not to let my lover escape. I open my purse, and I reach in. I find it, and I close my purse, and push the bathroom door to, putting 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 cunt 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 breasts. I lie back, hard nipples pushing clear of the foam. 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 breasts from my foam lover. You cup me, you hold me – and your fingers take possession of my nipples. You pinch and twist, stretch and tease, sweet pain and sweeter pleasure. And as you use my tits, 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 breasts where they hide under the bubbles. You lick along them, your lips under the foam, and your mouth surfaces – for air perhaps, for pleasure I hope. Your mouth surfaces, 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 my breasts – 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 breasts, 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 cunt. And as it slips into my cunt, as you slip into my cunt, you lift your hand and you put it over my mouth, and pinch my nose. And as you lick and probe, and your teeth close on my clit, 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 lick, and I feel it rising, its own mad choke and spasm of throat and lungs, of cunt and clit. And you hold and you lick, you bite and you suck – and I come. I come, and as I come, you let go. You let go, and I scream into the twisting, burning steam.
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 cunt still sweetly burning from your teeth 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. Because the tip of your cock, hot and hotter from the steam, probes at my cunt. Probes, and teases. Slides slick wet and slips along my slit. And it slides and it slips, and slips and it slides, the head kissing my clit and wetting my anus. And then you thrust. You thrust, and your hands take my hips, and you drive into me, your willing hole. You drive in, and you pull out. You thrust in, and you withdraw. And as your cock takes me, as you force your way into my willing, offered slit, I tighten my cunt on your hard length as tight as I can, to give you the pleasure of taking me, of forcing me. To give me the pleasure of being taken, of being forced. And you drive in and out, and out and in, and I feel it rise, feel it overwhelm me – and again I scream as I come. But I lock my legs and I stand braced, because it’s not yet time to fall. And you pull out of my cunt, and your hands spread my buttocks wide open. You spread me, and open me, and your cock-tip kisses its other 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.