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Dinner was great, as it often is when you’re sitting in an absurdly large rental house in the mountains and the food has been delivered to you up a long and winding road that only the local Japanese place knew how to negotiate. We were smart enough to bring wine up here over the weekend, and a little dessert too, fresh strawberries from a roadside stand. The whipped cream we just plain got lucky on—it was in the refrigerator when we got here to spend the weekend.
Tomorrow, it’ll be canoeing along the little winding streams that surround the house, but tonight, it’s some good food and relaxing after the drive to get here and an afternoon of doing little more than lazing on the back lawn, which rolls right up to a peaceful little lake. There was an hour in the hammock, of which half is only remembered, as the other half saw us both zonked out peacefully, and a full hour of letting our feet dangle in the calm water off the edge of the tiny pier that is technically ours for the next forty-eight hours. Much too sophisticated to perform such a menial task as making dinner, we both changed into even lighter clothes than the day began with and greeted the dusk with our delivered meal. Since then we’ve been exchanging stories and not-terribly-important observations about this and that under the gaudy chandelier than lords over the long dining room table.
“Now, the reason we don’t live like this all the time is why?” you ask me, staring at me with mock accusation across the table.
“Oh, don’t worry,” I assure you. “I have certain investments that should pay off soon. All we need is for America to start just two more wars in the next six weeks or so.”
“I see,” you say.
“You never look better than when you’re sitting under a chandelier, have I told you that?” I inquire.
“Mmmm, you did, just two minutes ago. Right after I told you that you never look better than when you lose one of your shoes in the lake dangling it off the dock like a little kid.”
“I intend to get that shoe back someday, I really do,” I say. Little do you suspect that I wasn’t joking around when I complimented the way you look tonight, here at the table. I don’t recall ever seeing your eyes quite as bright or your hair looking so soft.
“Let’s go out onto the deck,” you suggest to me, thankfully ignoring all issues of clearing away the plates, takeout cartons, and empty glass cups which contained our strawberries. It occurs to us that we haven’t even been out on the deck yet to see the view.
I follow you out onto it. It’s going on nine-thirty and there’s mostly just the sound of crickets. We walk across the overly spacious “tanning area” and stand near the railing, looking out over the back yard. We also get a lovely view of the lake and, far in the distance, the sleepily winking eye of a lighthouse on the cape which we’ll be visiting sometime tomorrow. The only other house in sight is visible only by the lampglow in one window several hundred yards away. We are truly secluded. I put an arm around your shoulders and kiss you warmly on the cheek. The stars are out in full, untainted by the glow of city lights for eighty miles.
“Mmmmmmm, I’m tired,” you say, leaning your head against my chest. We very slowly rock back and forth. It’s too much effort to stand straight.
“I don’t see any yawns yet,” I say, kissing you on the top of the head.
“Lilli doesn’t yawn, it’s beneath her,” you reply. You wrap your arms around my waist, look up at me, and give me a quick smooch on the lips. The taste of the wine we shared greets me again.
I run a hand through your hair, guiding a few stray strands from your eyes which had settled over them due to the slight, perfect breeze. “I believe I have just the thing to make you sleep soundly,” I say. “Do everything I instruct and you’ll slip into a very nice dream and not wake till morning.”
“Okay….as long as it doesn’t involve any jogging or kayaking. That’d be a little much for me in my state.”
“There might be just a little kayaking, actually, but it’ll be quick. Are you ready to do everything I say?”
You wrap your arms around me a little tighter. “Mmmmm, yes.”
“Good. First of all, I want you to stay out here and enjoy the view for another few minutes while I prepare to guide you off to sleep. Get a nice look at the lighthouse, because you won’t be seeing a lot of light for the rest of the night. Time to rest your eyes, sweetie. I’ll come back for you, okay?”
You smile, not having an inkling of what I’ve planned. “Be glad to,” you agree, and kiss me firmly on the mouth while giving me a gentle, affectionate scratch on the chest with your fingernails.
I run a finger down your bare arm and leave you. You stay just where I want you to. You turn back to take in the evening. Another breeze sighs in from the lake, sifting through your hair. You’re definitely tired but now you’re looking forward to not quite going to bed on time after all. You’ve just about forgotten every obligation that accompanied you out here, and it wouldn’t take much to banish all thoughts of them forever.
The feeling of escort ataşehir such isolation combined with the now-continuous summer breeze makes you aware of how nicely in tune your body is with the surroundings. Everything here is natural, right down to the wood this big house was built from, and you have a wonderful sense of being part of all the nature that surrounds you. There’s no reason for you not to be completely comfortable every moment while we’re out here; there are no rules, no expectations, and you kick off your sandals to feel the cool wood beneath your feet.
You imagine how nice the breeze would be on your entire body and lift off your T-shirt and shake your hair, running your hands through it before placing them back on the railing of the deck. The breeze whispers across your bare shoulders, your lower back, and your cleavage, held in sweet shape by your red bra. You’ve worn a pair of jean cutoffs on the trip here and now you unbutton them, unzip them, and push them down silently, until you are down to your panties and bra. Now you feel just like you want to. Whatever little bit of stress remained from your long week is gone now. All you need is another glass of wine, but the atmosphere of the deck and my instruction holds you. You feel beautiful, standing here, your body exposed to the night and nothing else.
“Ready to obey me?” my voice says behind you. You turn and see me standing just inside the open screen door, in the dark. I’ve turned out almost all the lights in the house and I’ve reached a hand out to take you in. Leaving your cutoffs and your shirt on the deck—-who’s going to take them?—you walk towards me, and reach your hand out to become clasped in mine. You’re grinning from ear to ear when you cross the threshold and enter the dark dining room.
“Wow, I hope you’re going to be a good guide,” you say as I turn to lead you away from the deck, closing the screen door.
“Just follow my every step,” I say, and, holding your hand like a high school sweetheart on a first date, I begin to cross the kitchen and head toward the spacious, over-decorated bathroom. “I like what you’ve decided to wear, by the way.”
“I thought you would,” you say. “Too bad you can’t get such a good look in the dark.” The entire place has been dowsed, you notice. There’s not a hint of light anywhere. We’re nothing more than shadows among shadows.
“I’ve memorized every curve on your body,” I reply, walking slowly, in absolutely no hurry. “I can feel them all touching me anytime I imagine it.”
“Excellent,” you purr, and become aware of the small sound of cascading water up ahead. There’s a tiny glow emanating from the bathroom, the extra large one with the gigantic clawfoot tub. When we enter, you see that it’s lit by a single candle on the edge of that bathtub. It gives off the dimmest of auras, not even enough to see all the way across the room by. Everything in it seems to be tinged by a soft color like gold.
It’s as if we’ve stepped back in time. And the quiet itself is quite striking. It makes you realize how busy the night outside really was, with its crickets, breezes, and sounds of the water lapping against our dock. In here, there’s only a dreamy hush. Behind the shower curtain the water has been turned on, and already the room is filling with a hint of steam and warmth.
“I like this,” you tell me. I let go of your hand and move directly in front of you. You look up at my face and I touch your chin delicately.
“You’d like a nice shower before you go to sleep, wouldn’t you?” I only half-ask. “To get into bed just a little bit wet from head to toe, and slide in between those cool sheets…..”
“Absolutely,” you say quietly.
“I thought so. Now I want you to stand very still and let your eyes adjust to the dark. In just a minute you’ll be under that stream of warm water. Won’t that be nice?”
“Nnnnnnn,” comes your answer. I step behind you and lay one soft kiss on the back of your neck, and then I’ve placed my fingers on the shoulder straps of your bra and very slowly lowered them down your arms. I move my attention then to the clasp and unhook it. You allow you head to loll back against my chest.
“Now squeeze your shoulders together to let the bra fall all the way down, the way I like you to do it,” you whisper. You know just what I’m taking about and you obey. The bra tumbles down and is cradled briefly by your arms, and then I’ve taken it away entirely. You let your arms move to your sides and take a long, deep breath of contentment. Just a hint of steam from the shower has floated up to you and raised the temperature in the dark room by a degree or two, no more.
“Look at the way the flicker of the candle moves across the shower curtain,” I tell you. “Can you believe such a little thing can make such amazing dancing shapes?”
Your attention focuses on the curtain and it’s ever so peaceful to just watch that flickering. You don’t even turn your head when you feel my hands on your hips, taking the strings of your panties in my control and then slowly lowering them down your thighs. You spread kadıköy escort bayan them just a little to allow me to more easily take them off. Down over your knees they go, down your tanned calves, and you raise each foot in turn just an inch off the floor to make them disappear entirely. You’re naked and warmed by the subtle steam.
“Now draw the curtain back,” I say in a low voice. You reach forward and do it. The water emerges from the shower head in a perfect spray.
“Take one step forward, but no more than one step,” I instruct you. You obey, wondering why for a moment, but then you realize why I’ve had you do this. Standing there in the nude just a foot from the edge of the tub, infinitesimally small bits of water leap up from the shower spray to touch your body all over, from your neck down to your knees. You can’t see them in the dimness; you can only feel them, specks so tiny that each one feels less like actual moisture than a kiss from something that disappears upon touching you. You look down at yourself and in a moment you can just barely see a thin sheen of wetness on your breasts. Every few seconds a hint of water lands upon your nipples, your stomach, the soft patch of hair above your hips.
The overall effect is completely soothing. You could stand here forever, getting warmer and warmer. The candlelight flickers upon your nude body. The water droplets which can’t be seen even touch the candle flame itself, making it shudder and dance more urgently, but there’s still only enough light to see the tub by. Almost everything behind you in this room is in shadow.
“Okay, my love, you can get in the shower now. There’s a new bottle of your favorite soap on the rack inside. It’ll be very dark in the tub, but I’ll help you get adjusted in just a minute. Think you’ll be okay by yourself in here till then?”
“Oh yes,” you say. You draw the curtain back, step inside, and close the curtain again. When you’re fully inside the shower, it’s as close to being completely dark as you can imagine; the flame is screened out now. Still standing just out of the water’s reach, you feel out for the bottle of bath gel and take it in your hands. You open the cap and smell the bottle; yes, it’s your favorite kind all right. You fill your left hand with gel and replace the bottle. You rub the soap between both hands, getting a nice lather going with the help of the water, and then step forward into its spray.
It’s the perfect temperature and you let it hit your chest and your face, loving it. You hear the bathroom door close, and you see my shape just beyond the shower curtain and smile. You rub the lather on your hips and across your stomach, angling your head so that the water covers your hair and your face. You turn and feel the water, jetting from the shower head with surprising intensity, coat your back and run downwards. Then it’s back to wash your face again, and to lather up your breasts.
“I’ll help with all that,” you hear me say as the curtain is drawn back again and I step into the shower with you. You don’t even look back. The dimness of the room is working on you, and it seems unimportant to see much of anything; your other senses are more than ready to give you a nice bathing experience, here in the woods inside a private house, inside a small room and an even smaller enclosure within it, your body wrapped now in layer upon layer of solitude. All you can really see is the shower head and the wall beside you, meaningless shapes in the dark. It’s difficult to even see my hands when you look down to find them slipping around your breasts.
“Just here to get you clean,” I tell you, and you allow the weight of your body to go limp and lean back against me as my lathered hands rub the soap all over your chest, crossing my arms across it, squeezing and caressing. Your skin is slippery and soon I have your entire torso covered in that scented foam and I’m spreading it out from your neck to your waist, my hands moving slowly in all directions, occasionally hesitating to skate them from a place just below your neckline down over your breasts toward the nipples, where I cup your entire bosom just firmly enough to let you know that maybe there’s more going on here than just bathing.
I hear you exhale comfortably and then I do your back, cleverly scooping up all the excess suds that have rested on your breasts and transferring them to your shoulders, letting them slide down over your back while I press more gel from the bottle into my hands. You feel your nipples gradually harden and you look at them proudly as they protrude from your breasts, asking to be soaped up, scrubbed, even pinched. But instead I’ve moved on and I’m playfully soaping your ass, using both hands to cup your cheeks and rubbing them over and over and over again.
I squeeze your hips and run my backs of my hands across your lower back. You feel the lather slide from your buttocks down to your thighs, and now I’ve reached down to touch them, guiding the lather downwards toward the backs of your knees and pausing momentarily to bring some of it back up toward the space where escort bostancı your legs part. Your inner thighs become soaked with lather….first the right, then the left, up and down, as if I’m on some showroom floor and you’re the product whose lines I want to feel and admire before I purchase you and take you home. You spread your legs a bit to give me fuller access, and you feel my hands high up on your thighs, soaping here, there, and everywhere, stopping just short of your labia.
I withdraw my hand then, which is a bit disappointing at first, but you see my arm reach around you to replace the bottle of gel on the rack, and you can just see that my hand is full of the lovely stuff again, and I turn my palm up to allow the warm water to soak it briefly and bring it up to temperature. Immediately after that, my arm disappears and the next thing you’re aware of is my entire palm, thick with lather, cupping the entire area of your pussy, pressing the soap all over it and rubbing it all around.
You emit an involuntary gasp but before I get too involved I’ve moved back to your thighs and then reached around the front to soap up your pudenda. Once again my hand dips down low, and you feel my sudsy fingers touch you in just the right place once more. A second later I’m turning your body around to face me. You don’t resist at all or ask me what I’m doing.
You see me for the first time, naked as you are, and I’m sinking slowly to my knees, where I rest with my head at the level of your waist. To make sure you never slip, you place your soft hands on my shoulders, looking down at the top of my head. I scoop up lots of suds from your legs and press my right hand onto the wet thatch of your pubic area. Then I glide my hands down your inner thighs and let my fingers play lightly over your ankles. I even soap up your feet and your toes. Then I stand up again, and kiss you on the mouth.
You open it to receive some of my tongue, and when I feel you meet it with your own, I bring you close to me. Much of the soap from your body is transferred to mine as we kiss, your breasts pressed against my chest. You close your eyes and see nothing, just feel it all. My arms move around you and you’re entirely enveloped in my embrace, the warm water cascading down your back, as cozy as you’ve ever been in your life. Eventually we must break our kiss and I tell you it’s time to get all the soap off and join me outside the tub in a minute or so. As I turn to step out of the shower you feel my rigid cock graze your thigh and know this has been very, very nice for me too.
You spend another minute in the shower letting the water wash away all the lather. The candlelight dances and plays outside the tub, creating uneven shadows on the wall. The moment you’re done rinsing yourself, my hand appears inside the enclosure to turn the tap off. You don’t even have to bend to do it yourself.
“Okay, I believe it’s time to dry off,” I invite you, and pull back the shower curtain. You step out towards me, displaying your hard nipples for me to gaze at. I’m holding a big blue towel for you to step easily into. You do it, and I begin to dry you off myself, just patting you softly, starting with your shoulders, moving down your chest to your legs. I tell you to raise your arms up and you giggle and I pat under them. I tell you to turn around and you do so that I can rub the towel down over your glistening ass. When all this is done, I turn briefly to the sink. I’m little more than a naked silhouette to you, a silhouette with a very noticeable part extending outwards. From the sink I’ve lifted a garment you’ve never seen before.
“Step into this,” I say, and I proceed to wrap you delicately, like a very special present, inside what you might think of as the finest wrapping paper in the world. It’s a dark red silk robe with a complicated black stripe design. The feel of it going over your arms and enshrouding itself around your body is heavenly.
“Oh my,” you say wonderingly. “When did you buy this, and how short do we have to cut the vacation to pay for it?”
“I have my secrets, Lilli,” I answer. Standing in front of you, I tie the sash very loosely around your waist and the robe is fully yours. Now only one of us is wearing any clothes. I take your hand in mine and announce that it’s time to head to the master bedroom, where the rest of your pre-sleep ritual will take place.
I blow the candle on the tub out, leaving us in total darkness for a moment, and then we walk companionably across the hall and into the large master bedroom, with its carefully selected reprints of the great masters hanging on the walls. You notice before we even enter that I’ve set up a few more candles to provide atmosphere.
It’s really just as dim as the bathroom was. Impossibly soft illumination rests on Monet’s Waterlilies above the oak headboard. I lead you by the hand over to the newly made bed and tell you to lie on it face down. You climb up upon it, move forward like a very sexy tiger, and ease your body down so that your wet hair spreads across the satin pillow. Your breasts are pressed pleasantly beneath you, and you can see nothing but the wall. Deciding that’s not much of a sight, you close your eyes and sigh. You’re not really that tired anymore. The shower might have put you out for the count, but certain sensations in there certainly woke you up.
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