The Bath


I pictured him in his bath, a bubble bath smelling like lavender. I like that smell, sweet, soothing.

The bubble, making thick foam above the water, masked his body.

The bathroom, made steamy by the warm bath, the smell of lavender and the steam coating him.


I may have let my mind wander…

I may have imagined I was in his bathroom too, that I was fully clothed, that I approached him slowly.

He watched me, surprised while I sat on the side of the tube.

He tried to ask me something, perhaps what I was doing there. But I didn’t let him talk.

I put a finger on his lips.

I let a lazy hand slide into the water, past the foam, the water making a warm glove around my hand.

I imagine, my hand finding his dick, my hand making an even warmer glove around him.

I imagine him growing in my hand; growing harder and harder.

Me squeezing lightly. Him gasping silently.

My hand sliding to the base, my fingers brushing his balls.

Him gasping, again.

I may have let my mind wander some more.

I may have taken him in my hand again, sliding slowly up and down.

I may have put my other hand in the water, trailing his neck, his shoulder, making its way down.

My left hand, my left hand having a life on its own.

My left hand squeezing some more, sliding up and down.


He may have arched his hips, matching my movements.

He may have fucked my hand until his release.


I have let my mind wander, hoping my hand could have wandered too, under that foam, into the warm water.