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I closed the door and lit two candles. As their scent filled the air, I inhaled deeply and took off my robe, hanging it on the door hook. I paused for a minute and looked in the mirror. I didn’t look like I had in my thirties, but for someone who just passed the ‘Big-50’, I didn’t look too bad. Still shorter than I ever wanted to be, how I always envied those tall supermodel-types. I mean would a couple of inches have been so difficult God? I thought that as I smiled to myself. Good breasts, but certainly in need of a bra now more than years back. Small waist from a decent amount of exercise, even after three kids. Hips and ass showing a less-than-typical middle-age expansion, but still pretty tight, tight enough I still catch men and the occasional woman checking me out.
I ran my hands down my body in anticipation, then leaned over and turned off the tub’s taps. I could tell by the steam rising and the amount of bubbles my bath was ready. I gently slid into the hot water with a sigh. A large glass of wine sat on the edge of the tub waiting for me. “Maybe being short was a blessing because I can stretch out in my tub perfectly?” I felt my body unwinding from a day filled with tension and arranged my tray, settling the manuscript on it. I again remembered my attempt with using a computer in here, but the fear of it falling in the water made the whole experiment a disaster. A tablet almost worked, but the screen kept fogging over from the heat and humidity. So I kept it old school and printed out several stories from one of my favorite LushStories authors. I am behind in my reading, which was pretty normal, but I actually had to schedule this little break in my week so I could get a little ‘me’ time and also read a few stories. This author never ceased to amaze me. Her attention to detail and sheer eroticism always brought me pleasure, so much pleasure since joining the site. Her stories were so imaginative and on several occasions, she brought some of my most intimate fantasies to life.
I did the only thing I had to finally give in with my advancing years and put on my glasses, readers actually. It did make reading easier, but it made me feel like a little old librarian with small glasses perched on the end of her nose. But it was a small price to pay to be able to get lost in these stories. I looked at the title and the brief one-line description and I felt a shiver run down my spine. I couldn’t help it. I took a fortifying sip of wine and turned the page.
She set the stage so perfectly. I felt I was in the middle of the scene. I could feel the heat between her characters and could almost taste the sexual tension before they even recognized it themselves. I gripped one breast, feeling a little disappointed at having to keep one hand dry to turn the pages. This story was going to be an amazing one, I could already feel it building. As the story progressed, I could feel my own heat building, even in the hot water, my nipples were hard and aureoles tight. I pinched one hard and felt both the small pain and pleasure course through me. One character was standing in the kitchen touching her own breasts and I could feel myself in her place. Pinching my nipple and rubbing my breasts made me quite aware of how hot I was getting. I tried to put off touching myself deeper, but my body would not be denied. I slipped my hand down between my legs and moaned with clenched teeth as I felt the slickness that had nothing to do with water.
I kept reading and gently teasing myself as the story went on. The characters seemed to revolve around each other, not committing, but feeling each other out, testing the waters so to speak. The anticipation building toward a glorious conclusion. There were small points of humor that lighten the tension just enough to keep me and them on edge. The humor wasn’t distracting but made the characters real people to me. These were not words on a page, they were human because the author breathed real life into them. They had insecurities, concerns, second thoughts, but the passionate fires she was building started with a small smolder and you could catch a glimpse of a few brief flares that showed the intensity of their emotions.
As their passion built, so did mine. I was no longer being gentle, but rubbing hard, shifting water from side to side in the tub as I couldn’t stop myself if such an evil thought would even occur to me. Their relationship came to a head and my own excitement peaked in unison and equally intense.
My eyes closed as I felt my small body tense up and the arch to my back lifted me above the water as my orgasm crashed through me. My body suddenly gave way and I splashed back down on the water with a cry I couldn’t stifle. I caught my breath, which wasn’t easy as I read the last few lines which showed her wonderful characters were having a tender ending of their own. I hope theirs matched mine, I was certainly feeling happy and content. Well, until . . .
There was a sudden banging on the door. “What the hell are you doing, there’s water coming under the door soaking the carpet.”
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