I doubt I have the energy to make it to the bathroom, but I know I need to clean up. Taking a few steps, I groan softly as my muscles had already began to stiffen in just those few moments of rest.
A few feet from the bathroom, I stop as the door opens. Framed by the steam from the sunken bath behind her, she gives me a gentle smile and reaches for my hand. I shake my head, not wanting to sully her manicured fingers with my filth. Her lips twitch, and she grabs my arm, pulling me into the bathroom.
She's wearing only a purple silk robe, tied loosely, the inner curves of her breasts revealed. Her hair is piled atop her head in a mass of curls, her face is scrubbed free of makeup.
She's beautiful and no matter how tired I may be, I'm still man enough to react physically to her beauty.
"I've been keeping it hot for you," she murmurs as she systematically strips me of my clothes, tossing them out of the bathroom so the odor of sewage can't mingle with the scent of lavender. Her scent.
Her brow rises at the sight of the erection I do nothing to conceal, and she purses her lips, hiding her smile as she guides me into the tub. With a grateful groan, I sink into the hot water, the bubbles parting, then covering me. Arms stretched along the sides of the bath, I rest my head back on the cushion and luxuriate.
She kneels next to the bath, putting her plump, barely covered breasts at mouth level. I turn and brush my lips over one silk covered nipple and she gasps, then giggles.
"Even exhausted, you're insatiable."
Somehow I find the strength to waggle one eyebrow at her, then close my eyes as she dips a sponge in the soapy water and runs it gently over my chest. As she bathes me, cleaning my chest, then each arm, then my hands--separating each finger and scrubbing delicately between them--she hums softly. I don't even think she's aware she's doing it.
Cole Porter's 'Get out of Town'. She's been listening to my albums again. I feel a warm pleasure flow through me as I realize we have more in common every day.
Dipping the sponge lower, she bathes my legs and feet. Perspiration from the steam beads on her forehead and I catch a glimpse of one erect nipple as she bends over the tub, lifting my legs to wash the undersides.
Moving back up the tub, she pushes me down and I slide beneath the water, wetting my hair. As I pop my head back up, I give her a quirky smile and she reaches for the shampoo. Pouring a bit into one palm, she rubs her hands together, then transfers the lather to my hair. Her fingers massage my scalp and I moan in pleasure, arching up.
"Feels good?" she murmurs.
I nod and close my eyes again, letting my muscles relax. Cupping her hands, she pours handfuls of water over my head, rinsing away the shampoo, then guides me back up to the top of the tub. Again I rest my head, my body languid in the water, only one part of me still active.
Behind my closed eyes I can see her smile. I hear the rustle of silk and draw in an unnecessary breath in anticipation. The water stirs and I'm blanketed by a hot mortal body. She sinks down atop me, her hands bracing on the rim of the tub on either side of my body. My own hands find her hips and I pull her down.
She moans softly as I slide inside her, the water trying to pull her back up, but my hands holding her to me. My legs twine around hers, pinning us together. Her head rests on my shoulder and I listen to her uneven breathing, her increasing heart rate. Her inner muscles are clenching around me. I want to thrust and thrust, but I don't have the energy.
We lay still, joined together, letting the pleasure build slowly. I feel her nipples boring into my chest, her lips moving over my throat. My fingers caress her bottom, not moving much, but enough to make her moan softly and squirm.
My eyes nearly cross at the rush of pleasure through me, and my head falls back, my mouth open. She squirms again, wriggling our pelvises together, then she bucks hard. Water splashes over the edge of the tub and she bucks again, her knees digging into my sides, my legs still pinning her to me.
Crying out, she buries her mouth in my throat, her blunt teeth driving me nearly insane as they run over my carotid artery. I thrust up hard, lifting her nearly completely out of the water, and she screams my name as her orgasm swamps her.
As she shudders on top of me, I sink back down and grit my teeth, my fingers digging into her supple flesh. Her vaginal muscles contract again and I let myself go, pumping into her with all my remaining strength.
Gasping, we sink back beneath the water, our bodies slowly stilling. The water begins to cool and I feel myself slip from inside her. She shakes herself slightly, then lifts her head and gives me a sweet smile.
"Bed?"
I nod and watch through hooded eyes as she rises from the tub on trembling legs and reaches for a towel.
Purple again. Always the queen.
Languidly I follow her out of the bath, reaching automatically for the plug and releasing it. As the water begins to drain, I rub a towel quickly over my body, then wrap it around my waist and lean against the sink, watching her dry her glorious body.
Lotion follows, then powder, then a quick brush of her damp hair--always the same routine, no matter how tired she is.
I love watching her...no matter how tired I am.
Naked, she turns and smiles sleepily at me, then takes my hand and leads me into our windowless bedroom. As she crawls onto the sheets of Egyptian cotton, I watch her stretch then curl like a cat. Dropping the towel, I join her, pulling the down comforter over us. Lifting her head, she squirms against me, resting her cheek on my cool shoulder. One slender arm wraps around my waist and I slide my hand down her back to her hip, caressing gently.
She yawns delicately and her eyes flutter shut. Reaching over, I turn off the bedside lamp, plummeting the room into pitch blackness, always amazed at how fast she falls asleep...at how she no longer needs the light either.
Human, she's become almost as much of a creature of the night as I. Forced by necessity into this life, she's learned to accept it with a steady grace I would have never thought possible of her a few years ago.
I smile helplessly at the memories of her teen years. How she's changed. Was it me? I doubt it. She changed herself, becoming the person she had always hidden from the world.
Still tactless at times, still coy and sarcastic, she nonetheless is the most giving person I've ever met.
After all, she's given me a reason to live.
In her sleep she stirs, murmuring my name with so much love in her voice.
I wish I could love her back. She deserves so much more than what I can give her.
I just hope and pray that she doesn't go looking for it.
I fall asleep silently cursing myself for being a bastard, but I can't help it. I don't want to lose her. I can't lose her, too. I need her.
It's not love, but it's close.
I need my beautiful Delia who returned the hope to my life.