Wearing nothing more than a towel I am watching my reflection in the bathroom mirror. He clearly stated the towel was the only thing needed for the surprise he had planned. I tie my hair up and glance over my body. I can’t help but feel aroused. The whole day I´ ve been feeling like this. It’s because he told me this morning we’d be together tonight. It’s the only thing I can think about since. Of him.
First I let my fingertips gently caress my shoulder, then let them wander down towards my breasts. Playfully I stroke the top of my right breast as I watch the scene play out in the mirror. I’m so aroused that this touching alone is enough to make things wet between my legs.
With a nervous smile on my lips, I move my fingertips from my chest to my thigh and pull the towel up a bit. I feel sexy and it feels good. When I think back to the look he had in his eyes while telling me only a towel would be enough, this is exactly the vibe he had in mind.
I glance at the bathroom door. It’s slightly opened and I feel like I am caught. Which makes no sense since I haven’t done anything yet and he really can’t read my mind. Let alone from the living room. It’s the sneaky feeling you get when you’re about to do something without the other. Just out of sheer horniness and because you want it now. Getting caught is not a bad thing at this point, it only makes it all the more exciting.
In silence I try to listen if he makes a noise. A movement nearby, a sigh or his voice indicating that he is waiting for me, but there´s nothing. And so I let my fingers slide further under my towel towards the warm place. I gently stroke my damp lips and let two fingers slip inside effortlessly. Meanwhile, I give myself a naughty look in the mirror. If he only knew. Oh god, I hope it’s an exciting and sexy surprise and not a towel folding course or anything.
During those silly thoughts, I find my fingers are getting more and more wet and my breathing begins to take on a new stronger rhythm. I can’t help extending the pleasure by rubbing the tip of my thumb tight against my clit while lifting one leg on the edge of the bath. A moan escapes my mouth and then another.
‘Honey are you alright?’ someone shouts from the living room. There’s that caught feeling again. It pushes my upcoming orgasm into the background. Startled, I pull my fingers back and lower my leg again. I smile and look in the mirror. There are two things I can do right now: pretend I was very busy with some innocent pursuit or confess and admit I was playing with myself, setting the vibe.
With my head held up, feeling sexy, I enter the living room. Candles are burning everywhere and a mattress is laid out on the floor. He’s waiting for me, wearing only his boxers. “You’re about to receive a sexy massage”, he says quietly. “Great”, I answer, I was just playing with myself”.
“You’re impatient”, he laughs, “you’ll have to wait a little longer, but I promise it’ll be worth it.”
With a mischievous look on my face I sit down, he joins me smiling when he’s finished lighting the last candles.
“Was it good?” he asks playfully, referring to my confession a few seconds ago.
Playfully I laugh that he can do better. In no time his hand slides over my thigh and I’m on fire again.
With a smile on his face he opens the towel I had wrapped around my body and starts pulling it down.
“Have a seat”, he says as soon as my breasts are completely freed. He splashes some massage oil on his hands, warming the oil up and then places his hands on my shoulders. His touch is exciting, warm and firm. His fingertips wander down my neck and I close my eyes to take in every tingle of his touch.
Every now and then his hands slide forward to massage my breasts. My mind wanders further and I bite my lower lip.
“Please, lie on your back” he says softly in my ear.
Obediently I lie down and let him have his way. His touches are intense and I can’t wait for him to pick up where I left off in the bathroom.