Roses and a Massage

I knew he had something planned for me the minute I walked into the house, this last work day of a very long and trying week. The beginning of this particular weekend shows great promise. I drop my purse and keys to the table that stands just inside the front door before turning to close and lock the door of our house.

A slight grin/smile crosses my lips as I spy the short, sheer, pink robe that I have never seen before, hanging on the inside of the door. The note is short, but I do as told. I slowly remove my blouse. I take one button at a time from its hole then let it slide down my arms to the floor. I carefully remove my heels, and then unfasten the closure of my skirt so that it slides to the floor to lie atop my blouse. I turn to check my hair and make up in the mirror on the wall above the table as I reach to my back to unfasten my bra and my eyes collide with his in the mirror. I have spotted him watching me from his semi-hidden spot across the room behind me. I hold his eye, smiling more fully as my bra joins the rest of my clothing on the floor at my feet, watching him in the mirror as he licks his lips. I reach up with both hands and run my fingers through my hair, shaking it loose. His eyes widen as he sees my nipples hardening in their reflection of the mirror.

I break the hold of our eyes so that I can put the sheer cover up on. The rose blushes of my nipples peek through the sheer pink fabric of the robe. I turn to him as I finish tying the belt and smile a most mischievous smile seeing how his body is reacting to seeing my pleasure in the plans he has for me; for us.

He crooks his finger at me, urging me to come to him. As I nearly get to him, he turns and starts to walk down the hall to our room, knowing that my curiosity will have me following him. My surprise is heightened as the lights are dim and rose scented candles are placed throughout the room. I inhale the intoxicating aroma.

He walks through our room, going into the connecting bathroom, with me close on his heels, where I find more candles and the relaxing scent of roses. But the scent of roses in the air comes from the yellow roses placed around the room. It's warm and damp in here, steam rising from the oversized tub that easily fits two. When he turns to face me, he is pleased to see the pleasure written on my face due to his efforts. My love for him is clearly seen in the shimmer of my eyes. I mouth the words to him.

He walks back to me since I stopped in awe just inside the door to the bathroom. His arms go around my waist, mine around his shoulders, in a tight embrace; our first since I have arrived home. "Hi you," he whispers in my ear as he kisses my temple. "Hi back," I whisper smiling into his eyes. A simple "Thank you" isn't quite enough for me to express myself to him, so I take his face between my hands and thank him from the bottom of my heart in the tongue searing kiss I give him.

He reluctantly pulls away slightly, keeping his hands on my hips with my hands on his arms. Then he lightly tugs on one end of the tie around my waist, putting a hand on each side of the opening of my robe he runs his hands down the valley of my breasts, separating the robe to completely reveal my nude body, up over my shoulders to take the robe over my shoulders so that it slides down my arms and falls to the floor. He steps back to me and takes my face in his hands for another deep kiss. Our bare chests touch; I feel his arousal jerk against my stomach with the feel of my hard nipples against his chest.

While we kiss, I unfasten the front of his shorts and slide them down over his hips and he is quickly undressed as the shorts were the only clothing he'd been wearing. His hard cock is hot against the skin of my belly and I take it in my hand to stroke it as we continue to kiss. But he doesn't allow me much time to caress him because he is intent upon continuing his plans to pleasure me tonight.

The kiss is mutually broken as he takes my hand in his so he can lead me to the tub of still steaming water. As I carefully step in to the deep bath, I feel the silkiness of the water and notice for the first time the rose petals floating on the water and the rose scent of the oil in the water. He sits down behind me and pulls me to the juncture of his legs, being pulled back gently by my shoulders to lean my back on his chest.

His hands are warm and soft as they begin to caress my shoulders while his lips kiss my ears. I sigh and relax deeper as my eyes close to luxuriate in the senses screaming out the pleasure in my body. His tongue licks just under my ear, his teeth nibble my ear lobe. Shivers run down my spine and I moan my pleasure to him. His lips leave my ear and kiss along my jaw line around to my mouth; he takes it for a deep kiss. After a moment, he breaks the kiss, and puts his arms around me under my arms so he can soap a pouffie to wash me with.

The soap is smooth and slippery under the pouffie as it circles my breasts. Each nipple hardens as it receives attention in turn. He runs his hands across my slick skin, stroking away the day's cares. I lean back into him and let him have his way.

Gently, and slowly he laves my body. I can feel myself relaxing, sinking into the heat and the scent and the attentions. When he gets to my groin, he hesitates – until I open for him to continue. He washes me with deep affection, paying careful attention to my most intimate folds and creases. I can feel myself begin to shiver again, but not with cold.

He carefully places the cloth on the side of the tub. "Time for your hair," he whispers into my ear; smiling.

He reaches for the hose, turns the dial to a hard spray, and leans me back onto his chest. With the spray in one hand, he begins to soap my hair with the other, taking care not to get the lather on my face. When the foam is dripping, he shuts off the spray and begins to use his wonderful fingers to massage my hair and scalp. He knows where each muscle begins and ends and manages to stretch each one until it relaxes. His kneading makes the roots of my hair tingle, and I love him even more for taking the time for this special treat.

Before long, he reaches for the hose again, and with equal care, rinses the lather from my hair. Not a drop even got close to my eyes, and my ears remained dry. How does he do that?

Gently he lifts me as he stands. He continues rinsing with the hose, chasing the lather down my glowing body with the stream of warm water. With equal attentiveness, he uses the streaming water to rinse under my breasts and between my legs. I can feel the water play around my clit and I almost sag back into the bath with the pleasure. Then he turns the spray on my little brown hole, which puckers at the unexpected assault. The sensations there are almost as intense as when on my clit, and I surprise myself with a moan of pleasure.

Too soon the stream of water is turned off. I open my eyes to see him smiling and holding a large cotton bath sheet. He approaches and wraps me in it and in his arms at the same time – I am surprised to find that the towel is warm and snuggly soft. We step from the bath onto the soft mat at the base of the tub. He uses the towel as a venue for running his hands over my tingling body - yes, drying, but not in any way I have ever dried myself after a shower. Each stroke holds hidden sensuality. He spends extra time holding and squeezing the soft, moist flesh, now quivering with desire. With long swipes he towels my arms and back, drying and playing at the same time. He fondles my breasts, being sure to dry under beneath them.

He kneels to dry my lower body. He strokes my pussy, again paying special attention to the creases outside my labia. His towel covered hand slows as it dries my ass, nudging, pushing and then is gone. Again the long strokes taking the water from my legs, drying my feet, and then back up my legs to where they join at my fuzzy thatch.

He leads me to the bedroom, and sits me on the side of the bed. A fresh towel is used to dry my hair. Again, he takes time to make sure the job is done right. So gentle, so thorough. He loves me, and I him. After several long delicious minutes, he wraps the towel around my head turban style and urges me to lie on the bed.

I sprawl face down, relaxed, glowing and squeaky clean. Some soft instrumental music floats across the room from some where; the smell of the rose petals on the bed makes me dizzy with delight. I feel his weight join me on the mattress. He covers my exposed flesh with a light sheet. "It is important that you do not chill," he whispers hoarsely.

His oiled hands gently touch me on the nape of the neck. The oil is warm and soothing as he begins to knead out the bunched up muscles, to stretch the tension out of them. He works my neck and all I can do is moan my pleasure. There is a slight pause to pour on some more warm oil. His hands turn to one shoulder, making sure that each muscle gets adequate treatment, not moving on until the objective is reached and the muscle is soft and pliant. He continues down my arm with the same methodical treatment – find a muscle, stretch and knead it until it is soft and pliable as wet spaghetti. Then move on to the next. When he finishes a part, he makes sure it is covered with the sheet. When he gets to my hands, he continues – kneading and stretching the muscles in the palm, and across the back of my hand. He even works each finger down to the very tips. Flexing, extending, massaging. When he finished every finger, he covered that arm and began on the other.

When finished with that arm, and it is modestly covered, he begins anew between my shoulder blades. I had not known there were so many spots needing to be touched, so many touches to be had. His smooth, warmed and oiled hands kneading away cares, relaxing tensions and causing me to sink into a warm rose scented euphoric glow.

Carefully he covers my shoulders and back and begins on my butt. I have anticipated this moment, expecting to be roused again and finish with some good sex. But he surprises me. Instead of grabbing with one hand on each cheek, he concentrates on one at a time. Again, he can find muscles in my hip and buttock that I did not know were there. Again, each is stretched, teased, massaged and relaxed until I am a puddle of flesh, unable to move. When that cheek is finished and covered, he continues down the leg – much as he did my arms.

Then the ankle and the foot. Running his thumbs from ball of foot to heel, a tingle courses up my legs. It is not pain, but a sharp, electric jolt that awakens me, yet calms me at the same time. He spends equal time on my toes as he did with my fingers.

When that leg is done and draped, he returns to the other buttock and begins again.

Minutes and years later, he has finished. I am rubbed and oiled from nape to toe, muscles like jelly and just moments from sleep.

"Flip over," his voice sinks in from far away.

"I can't," I mumble into the bed sheets – at least I think I actually say it.

I felt him bring my outstretched arms back down to my sides. He crossed my ankles and with a flick of his wrist I found myself on my back. He carefully placed my hands across my belly and draped me again. He moved up toward my head and knelt there, with one knee by each ear. I looked up at him upside down. I couldn't help but notice that he was still naked (and apparently not chilled). His cock was at full attention, hovering just over my forehead.

Gently he placed one thumb above each of my eyebrows and began a gentle kneading motion. My eyes closed of their own accord. Again, he found each muscle in my skull and face and convinced them to relax. His hands worked down my neck to one until he was just above my breast. He gently stretched my pectoral muscle, seeming to ignore the throbbing nipple just south of there. Then the other muscle. His warm hands circled around under the curve of my breast, gently teasing, and began working on the muscles of my belly.

As he continued down, he was reaching over my supine body. I could feel the heat of him on my face. The lower he got, the more aroused I became. Finally I opened my eyes and found I was 'face to face' with his erection. I could see the pre-cum glistening on the tip of him. Spontaneously I raised my tongue to taste the gleaming diamond of his desire. He twitched, but did not stop his work on me.

He had reached my groin area. I spread my legs ever so slightly to give him room to work. He continued with the massage, focusing on the muscles of my upper thigh, beginning with the outside ones. His warm, slick hands glided over my flesh.

I could still taste him on my tongue when his fingers brushed over my clit. They did not stay long, just grazed over on the way to the other thigh. The throb that hit me was almost an orgasm of its own. It certainly predicted what was about to happen.

He finished the other outside thigh at the knee and began working his way back up my inner thigh. I felt myself beginning to get wet in anticipation.

When he arrived at my lips, he tarried around the outside corners. Tickling, probing, and teasing. My thighs parted even further, begging him to continue.

His fingers darted across the opening, dipping into the sauce, then using it to massage more, getting closer to my clit. I was squirming and whining by this time, and realized that he had pinned me to the bed with his legs. I opened my eyes and was rewarded by the other end of him, his ass, his balls and the base of his straining cock.

Quickly my eyes shut again as he got to work on my clit, this time in earnest. His fingers plunged into me and found my g-spot, at the same time that his tongue found my clit. I wrapped my arms around his legs and began to shiver with a building orgasm. He set the pace, thrust; lick, thrust, lick and I bucked once and plunged over the edge – riding him as wave upon wave of pleasure crashed over me. He kept time with me; never letting me hit bottom, but not keeping me too long at the top.

After what seemed like an eternity of bliss, he finally let me slow down; easing me to a soft landing and caressing me into a state of relative calm.

I whimpered as he took his weight off of me, to reverse his position. Then sighed as he lay with me again, covering me with his warmth and kisses.

Just when I thought I could go no more, I found myself responding to those kisses. My breathing got faster, my heart was pounding. I reached for him and found him hard and as ready to enter me as I was ready to have him in me.

He kissed me deeply and lovingly as he positioned himself. I acted as guide (as if he needed one) and placed him at the entrance to my dripping pussy. He moved forward slowly and I could feel him stretch the tissues in passing. He only entered a short way, but it brought a gasp to my lips, and my back arched to receive more. But he waited – when I eased down again, he began a slow, deep thrust – from tip to base. And just as slowly withdrew until his head was all that remained in me. Again the slow thrust, and again the slow withdrawal until I thought I could not stand it any more.

I opened my eyes and found him looking at me. He must have seen the pleading in my eyes (or he could feel his own eruption building) because he began to move a little faster. He varied the strokes, some deep and some shallow, but always with that relentless tide building in both of us. After a bit, I could see his passion in his eyes. He began thrusting deeply with every move, and it drove me over my own brink.

"Oh, Yesssss! I'm cumminnng!" was all I could scream. And as my spasm started, I could hear him groaning my name and feel his cock stiffen. He slammed it into me deeply and I could feel his cum spurting deep into me. And that made me cum harder.

We shuddered together, frozen into the timeless posture of love. As our spasms subsided, we both managed to breathe again. He looked into my eyes and whispered, "Missy, I love you."

My only response to him as I curled into his body with a smile still on my face, putting my head on his shoulder as his arm went around me, and I drifted off to sleep was "Ditto."