Greetings, Darlin'  

Dowd3 44M
45 posts
5/23/2006 9:42 am

Last Read:
6/25/2006 9:25 am

Greetings, Darlin'

Another day came and went, and as she drove home her mind continued to grind away at the stress she wanted to leave behind. As traffic lazily traced its way over the roads she had to concentrate not to grind her teeth or beat the wheel out of blind anger. It had been a bad one at work, and now home seemed like an empty pit of frustration waiting to suck her in.

Pulling into the driveway, she made a conscious effort not to break the key off in the ignition when she shut it off. Stepping out of the car, cool wind bit through her clothes and ran a savage chill down her body. Fall was here and the wind brought with it the smell of rain. Before she could make the short trip to the front door cold, fat drops began pouring down. In an instant she was soaked, cold, and fit to scream which in fact she did once she shut the door behind her.

He appeared around the corner wide-eyed and irritatingly dry.

"You won't believe..!" she shouted at him but she never got to finish.

In three running strides he raced up to her and placed two fingers gently on her lips. "Shhhh," he soothed.

He took a moment to appraise her head to toe, his two fingers resting gently on her lips. Slowly he took her bag and hung it next to the door. He had to uncurl her fingers from the keys, but he plucked them from her palm and dropped them with a jangling sound into the bag on the wall.

"I just..." she began again, but the two fingers returned to her lips while the other hand reached for the buttons of her coat.

When he managed to unbutton it, his other hand descended to her belly and parted it to reveal her soaked shirt beneath. He slid his hands under the coat and slipped it off her shoulders like he had plucked a fruit from a tree.

Cold rain water ran down her back and sides and she instinctively tightened her arms before her in a deep chill.

Sensing she was cold, he dropped to the floor and removed her shoes and socks with brisk efficiency. With a dexterity she never knew he had, he unbuckled her belt, unfastened her pants, and dropped the soaking mass to the floor so that all she had to do was step out of them. Her goosebump studded legs shivered against the naked air. "Stop!" she commanded, but he only stood to pull her shirt over her head. Now only in bra and panties, she was further treated to a riptide of cold water rushing down her back when he unfastened the clasp that held her hair back. The raven mass fell onto her back with a sopping sound and she gasped at how cold it was.

He took her firmly by the hand and led her directly to the bathroom. By the time she got to the door she could hear the sound of running water. Inside was a steaming bath he had drawn for her. In her shock, she barely noticed her bra fall to the floor. As if in a daze she stood still while he whisked her panties to the floor, and she stepped out of them.

The water was hot, and she eased into it in an agony of relief. Laying back in the tub she noticed he was holding her hair away from her body. "This is nice," she said but he slapped the water with a brisk clap and silenced her again.

Looking back at him she saw he was getting frustrated with her. She smiled, and shut her eyes but not without an exasperated roll or two.

From behind her closed lids, she noticed that he shut off the lights and the water. Then she felt her hair lifted and her scalp being massaged in the unmistakable kneading motion she used to wash it. A moment later, warm water rinsed the soap away. Later on his hands fished out her legs and lathered them toe to knee with soap before he gently placed them under the water again.

It went on like that. She leaned forward for him as he scrubbed her back, and she held his hand while he dangled her arm above the tub to wash it. Not knowing just how to remove her makeup he ran his fingers over her scalp while she did it. Gone was the chill and the tension replaced by warmth and ease.

Getting out of the tub he had her stand straight for a moment while he dried her off in a towel he had warmed over the heat duct. He led her out of the bathroom and dried her hair in front of a full length mirror in the hall rather than the smaller one on her dresser. With an impish giggle she let the towel fall to the floor. He faltered for only a moment with what he was doing, but she saw his eyes appraise her wantonly.

He led her to the fireplace in the living room and lay her down on the rug in front of the couch. "Do we have something to drink?" she asked.

He smiled and produced a bottle. He let her drink out of it for a while, but in time he lay her flat again. The room was warm from the fire, and the rain outside was strong enough to drown out the noise from the street. Occasionally the boom of thunder rattled the house, but the base drum rumble was oddly soothing. The thunder seemed to jar loose the cares in her chest and belly while the rain hissed down on the roof and made her drowsy.

His fingers began gently pressing on her forehead with a warm, slow pressure. Slowly he traced his way down her face, around her jaw, behind her ears, under her neck, down her throat and to the cross of her collarbone. From there he traced her breasts and belly from the center to the sides in gentle, rhythmic jumps timed to her breathing.

For a moment all was still. Almost asleep now, she drifted into the awareness that her pubic hair was being gently stroked. She bent her legs apart and his hands gently stretched the muscles in her inner thigh. When he eased back, she began to drift again. Her pubic hair was being gently stroked again all the way down to where it ended between her thighs. Nothing was touching her skin so light were the strokes.

Then warm skin met her inner thigh. Fingers stroked with the same gentle pressure her pubic hair had received. Without realizing it, her lips parted and she gave a deep sigh. Something warm and wet reached between the lips of her labia followed by hot breath and pulsing lips.

Her hips rocked slowly at first then with greater urgency as her climax neared. Pleasure washed over her like warm waves, and when she finally went breathless it seemed to flow over her from crotch to the extreme ends of her fingers and hair.

She opened her eyes and saw her hands gripping his hair and one of his ears in a death grip between her legs.

He smiled, "Greetings, Darlin'."

I wish I could say I do this sort of thing often, but I can't. My wife is too ticklish to massage and too stubborn to be sidetracked from a good fit when she wants one. And before anyone starts taking about pressure and speed of the massage, I FUCKING KNOW! For the life of me I can't understand what's wrong with this sort of scene. But so many others are writing this stuff here, I decided to try my hand at it. Tell me what you think.

ShyWhisper2006 54F
15175 posts
5/23/2006 11:20 am

It sounds like a wonderful way to be greeted...especially being cold and soaked by the rain...well done...I liked it alot

sexymom20069 49F

5/24/2006 10:51 am

Doc , this is very good and sounds so wonderful.
For me too , there was no real passion in my marriage.
I hope you find relief some-where down the line.
Your a good man and dont let anyone else try to tell you different or they will have to answer to me.
Good Luck and all my Best , Linda

Dowd3 44M

5/25/2006 6:49 am

Should I post more stuff like this?

JustaSeeker 107F

5/31/2006 12:07 pm

I liked this very much. It was the type of story most women would write if they were writing about what they *really* want as opposed to what they think men want to hear.

steamyandsexybi 45F
2784 posts
6/2/2006 9:50 am

OMg...I can almost feel it now.......oooh!..

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