Anya Werner


Becca stooped to pick up the damp towel she’d dropped after bathing the twins. She hung it on the towel rack, and then wiped the globs of toothpaste from the countertop. A trail of damp rubber ducks led to the tub, which still held the foamy remnants of a bubble bath.

Wrestling two toddlers into their pajamas and then settling them into bed had sapped the remains of her energy and she was looking forward to collapsing with a good book--just as soon as she started a load of laundry, loaded the dishwasher and baked cupcakes for the next day’s preschool bake sale. As she moved toward the kitchen, Becca collected stray sippy cups, toys and discarded clothing.

Her husband, Michael, was working late. Again. On a good day, Michael only got home an hour before the kids went to bed, but somehow that hour made a big difference. With a little help from him at the close of the day, she could make it to bedtime with some patience left.

After dumping the cups in the sink and starting a laundry load, Becca sat on the sofa to watch some TV while she folded the clean towels. Not intending to rest her eyes for more than a minute, she leaned back on the sofa and breathed deeply.

* * *

“Hi there,” the whispered voice in her ear woke her gently. “I’m home.”

“Mmmmm. Hi honey. What time is it?” Becca opened her eyes, but couldn’t see anything. She reached up and felt a silken covering over the top of her face just as Michael said quietly, “Surprise...”

“What—”

Michael pressed his mouth to hers, cutting off her question. She relaxed as she felt his familiar tongue lazily nip at her lower lip, then slide into her mouth finding hers. As he gently pulled his tongue out, his hands reached for Becca’s. “Come on,” he whispered, helping her to her feet.

“Why am I—” she was silenced again by the pressure of his mouth, but this time she felt Michael’s whole body as he pulled her tight against him.

“Shhhh. Just enjoy, my love.”

Becca allowed him to slowly lead her through the familiar rooms, up the stairs and into their master suite. He helped her sit on the vanity stool, and she soon heard the sound of rushing water—the bathtub. She waited, enjoying the thought of a hot bath after her tiring day. The scent of almonds and vanilla wafted around her; Michael had found her favorite bath foam. Idly, she thought about what he was doing. He was usually considerate, but didn’t often surprise or pamper her. Shrugging, she decided to enjoy it instead of analyzing.

When the tub was nearly full of warm, fragrant water, he helped her slip out of her jeans and t-shirt. Michael slid her bra straps from her shoulders, nuzzling her as he moved them down her arms. Soon, she was naked except for her blindfold and ready for her bath.

“Enjoy,” he said as lifted her into their oversized tub. The water stroked her lean and tired body. She leaned back against a bath pillow and warm suds lapped at her body as she allowed herself to relax and float. Becca knew Michael was still next to her; she could hear his soft breathing, and knowing he was there made her feel safe even with her eyes covered. Suddenly, Michael’s touch was on her leg, moving silkily up her thigh. Massaging with slick, soapy fingers, he worked back down toward her feet, stopping to rub the tension from her arch.

“Ohhh,” Becca sighed, not believing how good his hands felt. “That’s good. What did I do to deserve this?”

“You deserve this—and so much more,” Michael murmured running one hand back up her leg to her tensing inner thigh.

Becca reached for him, inviting him to join her, but he shook his head. “Just let me do this for now.” She tried to relax, but the feel of his touch sliding upward from her leg was awakening new parts of her. Michael reached for the soap, lathering his hands, then running them over her entire body—arms, shoulders, stomach—taking additional time to trace tiny circles around her nipples.

“Is my bath over yet?” Becca gasped, her body arching toward him.

“Yes.” Michael lifted her up and wrapped her in an oversized towel, patting her with the absorbent terry cloth.

“Can I take this off now?” Becca gestured toward the scarf she still wore over her eyes.

“Nope. This was just the beginning.” Michael lifted her again, and she turned her face into his chest. Senses heightened by her lack of sight, Becca drank in his scent and rubbed her face against the soft cotton of his shirt. He laid her on the bed, and she felt herself relax on the sateen sheets. She reached out for him, but he caught her by the wrists. Before she knew it, they were over her head and another swathe of silk bound them together.

“Michael. What are you doing?”

“Loving you.” His whispered voice was right in her ear, and she felt his weight settle onto the bed next to her. He nuzzled her neck while one of his hands stroked downward. Becca giggled a little when he found the ticklish spot on her lower abdomen, then she gasped as his fingers went lower. Her center was already hot and wet, and his fingertips entered her easily.

“Michael, I want to touch you.” Becca’s wrists strained at their restraint.

He silenced her with his mouth before he said, “All in good time, my dear.” She tried to relax, but the swirling travels of his tongue soon had her arching toward him again. Hot, moist air from Michael’s mouth teased her breasts as he stroked and sucked. Her legs wrapped around his back, desperate to bring his body against her. She needed him in her.

“You can’t—” Becca protested, her desire driving her to beg for release.

“But, I can my darling, and I will. And you’re going to enjoy it.” Michael slid himself down, using the entire length of his hard body to stroke her sensitized torso.

“Please—” gasping, Becca pressed upward, willing him into her.

With a smooth motion his tongue pierced her heat then slid back out. It flicked over her again and again, tenderness alternating with intense passion. Becca could no longer resist and neared her release.

The darkness in front of her eyes sparked with swirls of color, and she felt herself slide into the greatest depths of pleasure. Over and over she shuddered, struggling against her bonds, wanting to pull him more deeply into her.

Finally, the tremors in her body abated, leaving her languid on the king-sized bed.

“I love you,” Michael whispered in the darkness, removing the silk from her wrists and eyes.

“Mmmm.” Becca smiled, “I love you, too.” She took a deep breath and stretched. “Now, why don’t you hand me those ties…”

first published at www.bettersex.com

©Anya Werner