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Friday night, alone…by Alane
I sighed.
It wasn't that I wasn't used to it - after all for so many months now that was how it had been - but for some reason tonight, I just needed to date myself. That little bit of peace and solitude where the rest of the world would disappear, and I could relax.
The bath was drawn, steam rising up from the water. Soft music played on the radio, the flames from the candles - flickering in time with the music. A few scoops of scented salts, and my haven was ready.
I stood looking in the mirror - not at a perfect body but one that I had grown accustomed to, one that I had started to even like. Soft breasts, tightening at the slightest touch. I caressed my tummy, just pillowy enough. Shoulders soft, not rounded by age but held high with the remnants of posture learned and dignity gained. It was a long time since I had been a girl - and this was the body of a woman before me.
One toe slid into the water - testing, trying the heat on for comfort. Ahhhhh - just right.
Slowly I lowered my body into the tub, careful not to splash too much. A glass of wine in the other hand, I leaned back and let the waters run over me.
A slow sip, and my glass was empty - too much effort to fill it now…just enjoy the heat, the wetness, the peace, the tranquillity. Perfection.
I let my wash cloth fill to its saturation point… and twisted it so the drops that flowed danced on my chest. When I was little I would cover my entire body with a washcloth, now it was barely enough for my tummy. MMMM it held the heat - and felt so comforting.
I sat forward, so that my back came out of the water, and my thighs forced apart to the sides of the tub. My hands massaged my thighs, my calves, my shins, my ankles, my feet. The salts in the water softened my skin, making it smooth to the touch - but still tight under my hands.
That's when I could feel him in the tub with me - silently stealing in…his hands guiding mine over my breasts. Cupping water and pouring over my bosom…massaging the fleshy mounds and pinching them softly.
I felt his breathing on my neck, hot as the water, with skin as smooth as mine - pressed hard against me. The hands still guiding mine, sliding down my torso - forcing my legs apart and my fingers into the more private regions of myself.
Fingers worked their way through course but softening hair, grown rough and ragged without the benefit of a lover to please. Exploring deeper, and parting through the over grown areas, the moist folds of inner skin started to become hot - from the water? From deep within? Its juices began to surface and swell with the waves created in the tub.
Inside my body, the tightening - waiting for the penetration, rolling over on my side so that my head could rest on the corner of the bath. Water so carefully entered now sloshing all over the floor in violent torrents.
Harder, faster, deeper, feeling him on me, tasting him on my lips, having my breath stolen with every thrust.
My leg - losing control - unable to hold my body up - bending towards the edge of the tub - bracing, pushing, collapsing. My hair - pinned up before now a mess of ringlets and strands and wisps gone astray, dripping, soaking wet. Candles burning out one by one.
I collapsed into the water, feeling it rush over my face - rising with a gasp. I shook, trembled, by body throbbing from this self-passion. And my heart - my heart searched for the invisible lover who made my bath time so much more than just a bath.
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