Episode 2 of the Ruby and Sarah series
Ruby and I still meet up occasionally. It’s difficult for me though, now that I have a job with more responsibilities. I often come home late from work tired, ready for nothing more strenuous than collapsing in front of the television and falling asleep. I don’t think my husband, Kevin, could cope with the nature of our relationship, so I don’t talk to him about it. Consequently my meetings with Ruby are secret, illicit and rare.
I had a letter from Ruby the other day. I recognised her handwriting as soon as I saw the envelope land on the mat; rounded letters, refusing to conform to normal standards of neatness and decency – elusive - just like Ruby herself. I picked up the letter and slipped it into my pocket; ready to read later, when I had some privacy and time.
It was a Friday. I had to wait until the end of the day before I had the luxury of reading her words. I would have dozed off in the chair, as usual, if it wasn't for that letter, but I told Kevin I wanted to watch a late night film, ensuring that he would go to bed before me and so leave me alone to savour it.
In the early part of the evening, I poured myself a bath, adding quantities of bubbles. I let the temperature get as hot as I could bear before slipping in, to luxuriate in the water lapping round my body. I have a kind of ritual when I bathe, which involves working up a lather on the sponge with the soap, then working upwards from my toes, up my legs and torso and then arms. My breasts are washed next. I always pay particular attention to them, rubbing round the nipples slowly, enjoying the slight abrasiveness of the sponge. I wash my pussy and ass last, taking special care to slide the sponge in all the folds and creases around my clit, then, kneeling up with my thighs parted, gliding it right underneath to massage my tight asshole.
I usually make myself cum doing that, but I knew I had Ruby’s letter waiting for me to read it, so I held back, stopping just before the sensations took over my body completely; before I reached that point of no return which is so wonderful and which transports me to a different world.
I turned on the shower and stood up to rinse the soap off my body, pondering on the possible contents of the letter. Ruby had written to me before and apart from a couple of sentences of small talk, her letters, like her stories, were really hot. I knew that I would end up bringing myself to orgasm, rubbing myself with my fingers, before the night was out.
I stepped out of the shower and towelled myself dry before pouring lotion into my palm and working it all over my sweet smelling body. Again, as with the sponge, I began with my toes and ended with my pussy. Again, I wanted to cum but stopped myself, just in time, before I began to climax.
I slipped into a black semi-transparent nightdress, which barely covered even the tops of my legs, and studied my reflection in the mirror next to the bath. My nipples showed prominent through the skimpy material and I could see the triangle of red pubic hair on my mound. I wanted to feel sexy when I read Ruby’s letter, to make myself feel special, to treat myself to a night of solitary bliss. I was pleased with myself. I did look sexy, really sexy.
I lifted my hands to my breasts and stroked round my nipples with my fingertips, making them go hard. My nipples are sensitive. When they are stroked, it’s as if messages are sent directly to my clit, making it swell and throb. I couldn’t help slipping one hand up between my thighs, cupping hold of my mound and slowly inserting a finger into my pussy, while the other hand continued to stroke my nipples. I let my finger explore round all those intricate places I had just paid so much attention to, making sure they were really clean. Even though I had spent a long time washing and drying my pussy, it was already wet. Thinking about reading Ruby’s letter, and the sight of myself in that mirror, masturbating, turned me on so much, I knew I could cum in seconds. I was on the edge before I had even read the first sentence!
I love being on the edge. I can stay there for hours. The longer I stay there, the more intense the orgasm is. I wished Ruby could be with me, to share the moment, but it couldn’t be helped. I knew that she had sent me the letter hoping that I would be able to find the time to masturbate to it. And that is exactly what I planned to do, in my own time, and in my own way.
I withdrew my fingers from my pussy. It was so sensitive by now, the slightest touch made it quiver, sending waves of pleasure throughout my body. I put my fingers up to my mouth and sucked them, deep and firm, remembering that time at work when Ruby and I once sucked on each other’s tongues, so intently, as if we were sucking on our lips and clit. There’s nothing like the taste of juices, secreted from a freshly washed cunt. I just wished it were Ruby’s juices I could taste, rather than my own.
My towelling dressing gown was hanging on a hook on the bathroom door. Full length, it covered my body completely, including the nightdress. Kevin hadn‘t gone to bed yet and I didn’t want him to see, or even to have any idea of, the sort of night I had planned for myself. I pulled the dressing gown on and tied the chord, before walking downstairs to the living room where he was sitting watching TV.
I poured myself a glass of wine and curled up on the chair. Kevin was watching some boring documentary, which I really wasn’t in the mood for. I was so conscious of the letter in my pocket, where I had put it before getting into the bath. I wanted to tear it open and read it, surreptitiously, while he was so absorbed in the TV, but I couldn’t. What if he asked me who it was from? What if he asked if he could read it? I couldn’t bear that, my night would be ruined, so I resisted the temptation, letting my mind wonder on memories of other stories Ruby had told me.
After what felt like hours, the documentary finished. Kevin stood up and stretched, yawning.
