The Bubble Bath

oblivia · 10-31-2010, 04:36 PM

The Bubble Bath

Staring at the computer screen in frustration, she sighs softly. Her entire body is on fire. Her imagination is getting her into trouble once again. It is a blessing and a curse, this “reactive imagination”. In part, she adores it, because she loves nothing more than to experience creative interactions with someone who knows how to ‘handle her’ and the ability for her body to react to such interactions intensifies the experience, and makes it even more real, more full of depth then perhaps she would experience otherwise.

The drawback, of course, was that such interactions could leave her frustrated, heated with no release, if her partner chose to leave her in such a state.

This is one of those times. She was clearly instructed not to orgasm. Not yet. Not until permission was given. And yet after several hours of “conversation”, she could barely see straight.

Her first instinct, to distract herself until her partner returned, was to treat herself to a hot bath: something relaxing and soft. And just like that, she had an idea. And even as she begins to undress, she knows that her idea is one that will cause her as much distress as pleasure, and yet, she continues…

Standing before her full length mirror, she watches her eyes steadily as she pulls her long tee shirt over her head revealing her nudity. Turning once in front of the mirror she looks at her body, from head to toe, uncritically, letting her eyes roam over every inch of skin like a lovers would. She stares, admiring the creamy slightly pink tint to her pale skin, contrasting with her very long, thick blonde hair, and down her eyes travel. Her eyes travel the curve of her hip, to her thighs, even her feet, and she smiles approvingly.

With one last glance, she moves to the bathroom. Reaching over she starts the water, hot, hotter even then what she normally would run. Adding a generous amount of the silky vanilla soap to the running water, she smiles as the seductive steam rises and turns to attend to the other details.

She plugs the stereo in, selecting soft, thrumming Celtic music and presses play, letting the music wash over her as she lights a single candle next to the tub, and flicks off the light.

As she steps into the hot water, she gasps, pausing to let her sensitive skin adjust to the heat. The fragrant steam rises, washing over her in a sea of sensation as she slowly sinks down into the water, sighing softly as she finally comes to rest on her bottom and then again as she leans back until her long blonde hair is fully immersed in the hot soapy water.

She loves this, the feel of her hair in the water as she subtly moves her head from side to side. She is suddenly, acutely aware of every part of her body, of the way the water flows around all of her curves.

She lifts her left leg, watching the water run down it in tiny rivulets, smoothing the soapy bubbles from the tips of her toes, all the way to her hip, careful to avoid her heated center, as much as she desperately wants to touch it, to test it’s wetness… but she knows she wants to save that for the last. The other leg gets the same treatment before she allows her hands to roam to her belly, smoothing the soap over its curve, around her belly button and up her chest to her breasts, sighing softly at the sensation.

Her hands feel so silky, smooth as they slip deftly over and around each breast, curling underneath them, squeezing them gently, pinching her nipples first softly, and then harder and harder still, watching with rapt attention as they stiffen into small coral peaks.

Her eyes closed, the music washing over her, her hands grow more insistent, hungry, as if they were a lovers hands, exploring with increasing passion, but still avoiding the increasing heat between her legs.

She retrieves her favorite soft sponge, allowing it to soak up a great deal of the warm vanilla soap and now, where her hands once traveled, the sponge does. She runs it slowly along every curve, up and down each arm, coating her skin in the soft, slippery, fragrant soap, arching her back as the heat between her legs intensifies even more as she continues to make love to her body in a way she never has before.

Thinking of nothing but each touch, each caress, each nerve, the sponge is set aside and replaced once again with her hands.

Pausing, she picks up the shampoo, and carefully massages the lather through her thick, wet hair, thoroughly; massaging her scalp as a lover would. She relishes the feel of her fingers entangled in her hair. Rinsing thoroughly, she repeats the process with her thick conditioner, softening the hair and reveling in the hot water as she rinses every trace of it away.

Her hair, now smooth and soft, feels even more enticing as it swirls in the water around her shoulders and arms. This time, she doesn’t stop her hands from roaming between her thighs, moaning aloud with surprise at the incredible slickness she finds there, her fingers instantly coated with her juices as they explore each fold, running teasingly along each part of her heated pussy.

Gasping, her back arches in the water, her head tilted back as one of her hands spreads herself open wide so the other can explore… two fingers idly slipping across the tip of her hard, throbbing clit, moving in slow, lazy circles. Each circle her fingers make elicits a soft moan from her lips, unbidden; her breathing grows shallow as her hands abruptly stop. Even in her rapturous state, she knows not to take it too far.

As frustrating as each pause in touch is, she continues. This bath, this relaxing bubble bath is so much more than that. She is riding a wave of her own eroticism, sailing on a sea of sensation that she is creating for herself and even as her hands roam along her slippery body to her breasts again, she knows that when she leaves the tub this evening, she will write down each detail…

This knowledge only spurs her own passion as she turns over onto her belly, one hand between her legs, pressed firmly against her clit, her body moving in the water in slow circles, the pressure from her body resting on her hand causing her moans to intensify as each circle makes her clit throb with sensation.

Her other hand reaches up, cupping her right breast, pinching her nipple first lightly, and then again hard, pulling, twisting, tugging…

Gasping softly she stops before the feelings can intensify too much, turning back over to her back and letting her hands lazily explore once again, her touches not frenetic now, but calming, soothing, as she brings herself from the height of passion, to a place of calm relaxation.

When she stands, the water trickling over her, rinsing the last of the fragrant vanilla soap, she sighs softly.

As she dries off carefully and slips into her soft, thick pale green terrycloth robe, she nearly floats out of the bathroom, wrapped in a blanket of erotic sensuality, and feeling like a goddess.

10-31-2010, 04:36 PM	#1
oblivia Timed Out How Do You Identify?: Femme Preferred Pronoun?: she/her Relationship Status: Married, treasured, and adored Join Date: Jun 2010 Location: Vancouver, BC Posts: 472 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 2,582 Thanked 1,430 Times in 359 Posts Rep Power: 0	The Bubble Bath The Bubble Bath Staring at the computer screen in frustration, she sighs softly. Her entire body is on fire. Her imagination is getting her into trouble once again. It is a blessing and a curse, this “reactive imagination”. In part, she adores it, because she loves nothing more than to experience creative interactions with someone who knows how to ‘handle her’ and the ability for her body to react to such interactions intensifies the experience, and makes it even more real, more full of depth then perhaps she would experience otherwise. The drawback, of course, was that such interactions could leave her frustrated, heated with no release, if her partner chose to leave her in such a state. This is one of those times. She was clearly instructed not to orgasm. Not yet. Not until permission was given. And yet after several hours of “conversation”, she could barely see straight. Her first instinct, to distract herself until her partner returned, was to treat herself to a hot bath: something relaxing and soft. And just like that, she had an idea. And even as she begins to undress, she knows that her idea is one that will cause her as much distress as pleasure, and yet, she continues… Standing before her full length mirror, she watches her eyes steadily as she pulls her long tee shirt over her head revealing her nudity. Turning once in front of the mirror she looks at her body, from head to toe, uncritically, letting her eyes roam over every inch of skin like a lovers would. She stares, admiring the creamy slightly pink tint to her pale skin, contrasting with her very long, thick blonde hair, and down her eyes travel. Her eyes travel the curve of her hip, to her thighs, even her feet, and she smiles approvingly. With one last glance, she moves to the bathroom. Reaching over she starts the water, hot, hotter even then what she normally would run. Adding a generous amount of the silky vanilla soap to the running water, she smiles as the seductive steam rises and turns to attend to the other details. She plugs the stereo in, selecting soft, thrumming Celtic music and presses play, letting the music wash over her as she lights a single candle next to the tub, and flicks off the light. As she steps into the hot water, she gasps, pausing to let her sensitive skin adjust to the heat. The fragrant steam rises, washing over her in a sea of sensation as she slowly sinks down into the water, sighing softly as she finally comes to rest on her bottom and then again as she leans back until her long blonde hair is fully immersed in the hot soapy water. She loves this, the feel of her hair in the water as she subtly moves her head from side to side. She is suddenly, acutely aware of every part of her body, of the way the water flows around all of her curves. She lifts her left leg, watching the water run down it in tiny rivulets, smoothing the soapy bubbles from the tips of her toes, all the way to her hip, careful to avoid her heated center, as much as she desperately wants to touch it, to test it’s wetness… but she knows she wants to save that for the last. The other leg gets the same treatment before she allows her hands to roam to her belly, smoothing the soap over its curve, around her belly button and up her chest to her breasts, sighing softly at the sensation. Her hands feel so silky, smooth as they slip deftly over and around each breast, curling underneath them, squeezing them gently, pinching her nipples first softly, and then harder and harder still, watching with rapt attention as they stiffen into small coral peaks. Her eyes closed, the music washing over her, her hands grow more insistent, hungry, as if they were a lovers hands, exploring with increasing passion, but still avoiding the increasing heat between her legs. She retrieves her favorite soft sponge, allowing it to soak up a great deal of the warm vanilla soap and now, where her hands once traveled, the sponge does. She runs it slowly along every curve, up and down each arm, coating her skin in the soft, slippery, fragrant soap, arching her back as the heat between her legs intensifies even more as she continues to make love to her body in a way she never has before. Thinking of nothing but each touch, each caress, each nerve, the sponge is set aside and replaced once again with her hands. Pausing, she picks up the shampoo, and carefully massages the lather through her thick, wet hair, thoroughly; massaging her scalp as a lover would. She relishes the feel of her fingers entangled in her hair. Rinsing thoroughly, she repeats the process with her thick conditioner, softening the hair and reveling in the hot water as she rinses every trace of it away. Her hair, now smooth and soft, feels even more enticing as it swirls in the water around her shoulders and arms. This time, she doesn’t stop her hands from roaming between her thighs, moaning aloud with surprise at the incredible slickness she finds there, her fingers instantly coated with her juices as they explore each fold, running teasingly along each part of her heated pussy. Gasping, her back arches in the water, her head tilted back as one of her hands spreads herself open wide so the other can explore… two fingers idly slipping across the tip of her hard, throbbing clit, moving in slow, lazy circles. Each circle her fingers make elicits a soft moan from her lips, unbidden; her breathing grows shallow as her hands abruptly stop. Even in her rapturous state, she knows not to take it too far. As frustrating as each pause in touch is, she continues. This bath, this relaxing bubble bath is so much more than that. She is riding a wave of her own eroticism, sailing on a sea of sensation that she is creating for herself and even as her hands roam along her slippery body to her breasts again, she knows that when she leaves the tub this evening, she will write down each detail… This knowledge only spurs her own passion as she turns over onto her belly, one hand between her legs, pressed firmly against her clit, her body moving in the water in slow circles, the pressure from her body resting on her hand causing her moans to intensify as each circle makes her clit throb with sensation. Her other hand reaches up, cupping her right breast, pinching her nipple first lightly, and then again hard, pulling, twisting, tugging… Gasping softly she stops before the feelings can intensify too much, turning back over to her back and letting her hands lazily explore once again, her touches not frenetic now, but calming, soothing, as she brings herself from the height of passion, to a place of calm relaxation. When she stands, the water trickling over her, rinsing the last of the fragrant vanilla soap, she sighs softly. As she dries off carefully and slips into her soft, thick pale green terrycloth robe, she nearly floats out of the bathroom, wrapped in a blanket of erotic sensuality, and feeling like a goddess.