Bathtime Delight

Moira leaned back in her seat and stared at the traffic stretched out before her, the roofs of the multitude of cars glaring with the sun's blinding reflection. A pounding headache was beginning with a dull throb settled right behind her eyes, and she slumped in resignation.

"Another day, another dollar, my ass," her mutter was quiet and she nearly gasped in joy as the traffic finally began to actually move in the lanes aside from the mind-numbing pace of stop-and-go. She turned the radio up again, quietly, just loud enough to drown out the noise of the tires on the pavement, and jolted in shock when her car made a noise at her.

"CALL FROM JACK" it intoned in it's robotic voice, and Moira hit the answer button on the steering wheel, smiling her first genuine smile in what seemed like forever. "Hi, baby!"

"Sugarbear! How's traffic?" Jack's warm voice seemed to melt out of the speakers, and Moira shivered all over. He was her southern gentleman, a skulking grey corporate minion, as he liked to coin himself. Even though they'd been together several years now, she still had the hots for him like no other man before.

She preened, even though he couldn't see her, and her headache was nearly forgotten. "Abominable, but finally moving. I'm actually going forty right now, believe it or not!" His laugh boomed through the car, and she joined him in laughter. "But, really, on a serious note, it will probably be another forty-five minutes before I get home."

"That's just what I was calling to ask, sugar." She could hear the smile that was doubtless across Jack's face as he paced around their house, his energy constantly keeping him going, though he was in his late forties now.

Though, you sure can't tell it to look at him

, Moira thought, idly picturing him in his sweatpants as he ran the vacuum cleaner in the living room, back smooth and tanned from relentless afternoons at the gym each weekend. Her mouth grew dry as she then imagined those same sweats half down, exposing the firm cheeks of his ass to the light as he took her, bent over the end of the sofa.

She shoved a lock of hair back behind her ear, and smiled toward the phone, "Oh, this day was utter hell. Can you make sure to have a glass of wine poured for me when I get home? I'll sit at the bar and then we'll make dinner. I think some pasta and chicken sounds great tonight."

"Sure thing, babe," he intoned, and she heard soft clinks and knew he was looking through their wine rack for a good choice for her.

Such a perfect man

, she thought. "Ok, I'm gonna hop in the shower, I should be done by the time you hit the ramp toward home, and I'll open a bottle to breathe before you get here. Love you."

"Love you, too." The call ended with a soft beep, and she turned the radio up, mood much improved, and a half hour later, she sighed in joy as she pulled off on the exit that would soon have her home.

It was just past dusk when she pulled up the long drive of their modest two-story home, and she noted to herself that it was odd that so few lights should be on, especially with Jack making dinner. She shrugged mentally as she stepped from the car and walked up to the door, blinking in surprise at the note tacked to the matte black finish: "COME ON IN, DOOR IS UNLOCKED."

Shutting the door behind her, she dropped her purse and bag on the foyrer table, and walked in to the kitchen through the dining room, pausing to take in the unlit taper candles, place settings and a chilling bottle of wine. One plate held another note, and, smiling, Moira lifted it to read in the dim light. "GRAB YOUR GLASS OF WINE AND COME UPSTAIRS. YOU'LL KNOW JUST WHERE TO GO."

Laughing like a schoolgirl, Moira nabbed the glass of white wine and headed for the stairs, the free fingers of one hand already unbuttoning her blouse. Turning at the bannister, she looked up and saw a tail of pink ribbon laying along the next riser, and smiling, she began to follow.

Stooping to nab the pale silk in her fingers, she recognized it as the tie from one of her robes, and arched a brow, wondering what on earth her crazy hubby was up to. Advancing up, she reached the second floor, and saw one of her slippers laying half-in the doorway to their bedroom.

Snatching up the slipper, she saw the other laying on the bed, yet another note propped against it. "SO, YOU'VE GOTTEN THIS FAR. STRIP OUT OF THOSE TIRED WORK CLOTHES, AND THEN HEAD TOWARD THE BATHROOM." Both of Moiras brows winged up as she read Jack's cryptic note, mind cranking to try and figure out his plans.

Moira took a drink from the glass and set it on the night table, shrugging the violet colored silk from her shoulders, tossing it on the chair by the closet. Next, her fingers slid into the waist of her skirt, unhooking it and sliding the zipper down along her hip, and she smoothed it down over her thighs, and caught a glimpse of herself in the long mirror on the closet door.

She paused in the act of stepping from the skirt, and looked at herself. Bent as she was, her breasts swayed forward to further fill out the cups of the pale pink demi bra, still full in her mid-thirties. She freed her feet, tossing the skirt over the blouse, and stepped closer to the mirror.

Her hands cupped her breasts, squeezing slightly, and her eyes went hazy with unexpected arousal as she watched her own touch. Her panties matched the bra, and she smiled at the straining silk. She was fuller-figured, and Jack loved to watch the way her body moved, she noted, now really seeing his interest in watching her dress and undress. Her waist was thick, her belly smooth and soft, and her hands ran down, one idly cupping the soft flesh as her gaze roved further down.

Her stockings had run earlier at work, so her legs were bare, slightly tanned, but still pale from not seeing the sun, smooth and soft, long and tapering down to her amazingly slim ankles, tucked into purple pumps that she kicked off with a smile as her hands trailed back up, to unclasp the bra and set her breasts free.

Giggling to herself, Moira watched as she tugged the bra away, and slid her panties off her hips, down her thighs, and merely stepped out of them, leaving them in a pretty pink pile for Jack to find as she finally turned to the bathroom door.

There, her robe! She slipped it on, loving the way the dark pink silk rubbed against her flesh, and she pushed the door open. Gasping, she took in the scene before her; low lights, and her husband perched on the toilet, fully clothed, his own wineglass in his hand.

"Ah, you made it," Jack's baritone voice was smooth, and he stood, walking over to her, taking her in his arms, and kissed her softly. "I had something else planned, but you sounded stressed under your light banter earlier, so I changed my plans." His arm stretched out to sweep over the bathroom. "Your favorite bath salts, soaps and lotions are at the ready, m'lady. Are you ready for your bath?"

Moira stood there mutely, staring at her man in silent shock, and awe. But soon, her lips curved and she stepped further into the room, loosening the hastily tied ribbon at her waist. "Why, I am. How very thoughtful of you." It had been years since they'd played this game, the over-worked woman of the house, and her very considerate butler.

He pulled the loosened robe from her shoulders, and she stepped into the large sunken tub, loving the feel of the almost too-hot water slowly inching up her legs and then body as she easewd herself down into the gentle bubbles from the jacuzzi jets.

Her groan was one of immediate pleasure, and she lifted one leg to rest on the edge of the porcelain as Jack started the music, some smooth jazz. He settled back on the toilet, brows raised as he watched her relaxing, as he always did when they played this game, appreciating the way some of the bubbles that formed clung to her dewy skin, and loving the way her hair fanned out, rolling with the pressure from the jets.

His breath stilled as her hands came out from under the water and cupped the soft flesh of her breasts, and he couldn't tear his eyes away as she slightly squeezed them. His breath rushed out of him silently as her fingers began to play with those dark little nipples he so loved to suck and tease, completely unaware of her slight playing before entering the bathroom.

Her hips shifted as she plucked the buds of her nipples, the sensation slicking down to settle wetly between her thighs, the gentle pinches and tugs echoed immediately in a lower nubbin, making her lips drop open and pant softly. The steam coming up from the hot water dewed on her forehead and neck, skin pinkening not only from the heat, but her own internal fires as she stroked them awake.

Moira's tongue snuck out, wetting her lips, and she opened her eyes to see Jack's glued to her fingers. Giggling softly, she shifted and lifted her other leg to the side of the tub and flciked the jets off with one hand, their quiet humming going silent, and she could clearly hear the panting of Jack's breath as her now-freed hand slip back into the water, and down between her thighs.

He groaned, and shifted, and she watched as his hand flattened over the large bulge between his thighs, palm rubbing as he watched her begin to pleasure herself. "Take it out," her words were just above a whisper, husky with arousal, and Moira thrilled as he straightened from his seat, large hands deftly unbuckling his belt, lowering the zipper and her fingers poised just over the nub of her clit.

As Jack's hand delved into his pants, his eyes were glued on the wet temptress in the bathtub, and he watched as he pulled his throbbing cock free, large palm working up his shaft as his wife groaned, knowing she was just touching that soft button as he stroked.

He moved closer, eyes flipping back and forth between the working hands of his lady love; one playing with her breasts, the other stroking her sex, visible through the water. He shifted his hand, gripping tighter, and stroked himself slowly, groaning softly as he watched two fingers disappear into Moira's body.

She whimpered, twisting the nipple as her thumb worked her clit, two fingers hooking to rub at her insides, hips lifting into her own hand, head dropping back, eyes closing as her fingers found that tiny special spot and little flames began to lick against her nerves.

She was in her own world, dimly aware of the grunting of Jack as he knelt by the tub, jerking on his amazing cock, but her attention was on her own body, imagining watching herself, the long digits of her fingers slicking in and out of the pink folds of her pussy, the swollen red bud of her clit throbbing and begging for attention.

She slid another finger in, her pinky rubbing against the dark pucker of her rear, a place Jack so rarely went that it made her crazy sometimes, and Moira's fingers got a little faster, her thumb rubbing hard on her clit as she imagined taking him in front of that mirror, straddling him, lowering her ass on his fat cock as she fingered herself, took her own pleasure for a change.

Jack knelt, dazed as he saw some change in Moira, saw her go from pleasuring, to fucking herself, and he stroked himself harder, faster, grunting as his balls began to tighten as he watched his wife near her own orgasm. He stood, and when her eyes opened on his, he groaned, "I'm gonna cum on your face, lover. God, I'm so fucking close."

His eyes stayed on her furiously thrusting fingers and writhing hips as he pumped his cock faster, feeling his cum practically boiling in his balls, waiting for her, and as soon as she started whimpering and moaning, he squeezed his balls and groaned, long as low as his cum spurted, shots landing on her cheek, her hair, her open mouth.

Moira's body shook, nipples tight as her pussy clamped around her fingers, moaning loud even as she felt Jack's cum connect with her face, and she started in shock as he bent over the tub and added his fingers in with hers, thrusting almost violently inside her.

She cried out, lifting her hands, circling them behind his neck as two, then three fingers fucked into her spasming cunt, setting off another orgasm as her hips lifted, almost clearing her from the water. Jack revelled in the wet fucking sounds as his fingers dipped in her, his need to feel her cumming around his fingers too much.

His mouth slammed down to hers, kissing her despite the cum on her face as his thumb settled onto hre clit, and he captured the scream of her next orgasm in his mouth, not caring that the water was sloshing everywhere. "Jack, oh god, Jack fucking make me cum!" His fingers speared into her body, and she shuddered again, body writhing as she wailed her orgasm against his lips.

His fingers kept thrusting, even as she calmed, and he slowly eased away from her, his cock again hard. "Baby, I hope you liked the appetizer." His grin was quick, and hot. "Though, you had it served earlire than I intended. The entree will be waiting as soon as you're done with washing up."

She panted softly, and watched him walk out of the bathroom, and scrambled to get her soaps.