Mr. Welsh and the bathtub
She held her breath while she hit play, then set her phone on the edge of the tub. After a long night shift, she just wanted a quick bath to soothe her tired soul before she crawled into bed. And to wash the grime of work off.
And to have a little menage a moi to get rid of the stress.
She focused on the scene on the phone for a minute. Older man. Check. Young woman. Check. Making out in a forbidden scene. Check check.
And she pressed two fingers to her clit, circling. Thinking of sexy Mr. Welsh. Ignoring every reason she shouldn't be thinking of him, including that she still called him Mr. Welsh.
The arousal spun faster with her fingers, the movement splashed the water toward the edge of the tub. She fantasized about him walking into the bathroom right now, reaching his hands under the water, touching her. His English accent chastising her for being a dirty, dirty girl.
She moaned as the thread of desire pulled tighter. She couldn't stop her moans as she neared the edge.
The door creaked open. "Are you okay?" a deep voice asked.
"Jonah," she moaned, as her climax washed over her. As she shuddered under the water, she realized someone spoke. And her eyes went to the door where she met the dark eyes of her greatest fantasy.
"Oh, shit." Did she say it or him? No, he said, "Oh fuck."
Her mind spun to catch up. Moans came from her phone and she reached for it. But her hand shook too much to grab the device.
"Did you say my name or..."
Her throat worked the lump, wishing she could answer. The woman on the phone kept moaning, and the guy screamed, "Oh yeah, take it."
He stepped further into the bathroom and grabbed the phone. Instead of turning off the screen, he watched it for several moments.
"Lisa, were you watching this or fantasizing?"
She looked down at her naked body in the tub and sank further so the water covered her breasts.
"Silence is an answer. I thought I was just being a creepy old man with imagining that way you looked at me... but maybe." He paused the phone and set it on the pale green vanity.
"I'm sorry." She wanted to dive under the water, but he was looking at her. Like she imagined him looking at her.
"Mister..."
"Jonah. Say it Lisa."
"Jonah, I can't. This isn't. It's just a silly fantasy."
"You'll have to be quiet. We don't want to wake Maggie."
"Was I loud?" she whispered, sinking further into the water.
"No, but you might be if I touch you." Mr. Welsh grabbed her towel from the floor by the tub.
If he touched her. Fuck. Her entire body trembled.
"Out of the tub, Lisa. I've wondered what you'd taste like for two weeks."
Dazed, Lisa stood, stepped out of the tub and into the towel. He rubbed her shoulders and sides. Somehow they transported to her bedroom, and she was spread on the bed. The towel covering her flesh covered in goosebumps.
He grabbed the edge of the towel and exposed her lower body. The tremble became a quake as spread her legs. His palm skimmed up her leg, knee, inner thigh. Each callous on his hand rasped over her smoothness, inciting her fire.
His soft lips soothed the inflamed path from knee to hip. And then he kissed between her thighs and fire consumed her.
He gripped her hips as he nuzzled closer, teasing her apart with languid strokes of his tongue.
Her entire body tensed as he nudged her clit. Lisa bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming and held onto his head to keep from flying off the bed. "Oh god, Mist-- Jonah." She writhed in his grasp.
He lifted his head. "Don't forget our agreement. Quiet. I'd hate to punish you."
She whimpered, wanting more of the inflammatory touch. He rewarded her acquiescence with another flick of his tongue.
Her bones liquefied under the heat, and she exploded, a flurry of sparks raining around them. He lapped through the climax, never breaking or easing.
When the flow eased, he released her. She expected him to lie over her, but he brushed his lips over hers, then her forehead. He soundlessly tucked her into bed and turned out the light before leaving.
Heaviness seized her, and she gave into the peace he gave her.