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She leaned over and turned the water off. The tub was nearly full and she did not want it to overflow when she got in. She raised her leg and tested the temperature of the water with her toe. It was hot, but not too hot and she stepped over the high side of the tub and stood for a moment letting the warmth travel up her legs relishing the chills it left in its wake. She looked down and watched her nipples stiffen and rise from her breasts. The response of her body to any kind of stimulus had always fascinated her. Placing her hands on the edges of the tub, she slowly lowered herself until she was sitting. The water flowed around her body as it was submerged and caressed her like warm soft hands. Steam rose from the surface and the scent of the oil she had added mixed with it and she breathed deeply of the aroma. With a sigh she leaned her head back and let the scented air and water close around her. She closed her eyes and when she did she heard His voice again . . . deep and mellow, soothing and arousing at the same time . . . the words of His story flowing into her ear . . . seducing her . . . drawing her into the picture He was painting . . . until she could see and feel everything He was describing. It had all been so real that her orgasms had left her weak and trembling. How many there had been she could not even remember; they seemed to flow one into another until she was crying aloud, holding the phone close to her mouth so that he could hear every gasp, every sigh, every moan, every scream.

With her eyes still closed, she smiled and let the memories absorb her. She had been lying in bed, missing him, wanting to call but not wanting to disturb Him. He was away on business and she knew He would be busy. He had been gone two days and would be gone for two more and she was feeling lonely and aroused. All day long thoughts of Him and their reunion had played in her mind so that by evening she was seriously considering taking matters into her own hands. She knew it would be all right with Him, He had given her permission, but the prospect of being ataşehir escort bayan alone afterward did not appeal to her very much. Still, images and fantasies continued to tease her. If she could only hear the sound of His voice, she thought, she would be okay. Talking to Him always made her feel better.

The ringing of the phone had been such an abrupt interruption of her thoughts that she had actually jumped. Slightly breathless, she had answered the phone and felt His voice reaching through the line to kiss her ear. Immediately, she was flooded with emotions. She had not expected to hear from Him so her joy was mixed with surprise. For a moment she feared that something was wrong, but then she heard Him smile and she was again filled with a delight that was distinctly seasoned with arousal.

That arousal had only grown stronger when He had told her that He had written a new story and had called to read it to her. Trembling slightly with anticipation, she had done what He had told her and had taken off her clothes and lay naked on the bed, waiting for the story to begin. As He began reading and her mind transformed the words into images, her body had begun to respond. She spread her legs apart when He described how the woman in the story was tied to the bed. With her free hand she reached and took hold of the headboard and imagined the feel of the velvet ropes around her wrists. When He spoke of the woman’s rising excitement and heightened sensations, she had felt them as well. Her hand traveled the same path over her body as His hand moved over the bound and helpless woman in the story. His words, his voice, guided her to the intimate place between her legs and when her fingertips had brushed her clit, she had been unable to stifle a gasp. A short pause on His end as He savored the sound had been followed by more words . . . more pictures . . . each sentence building upon the previous one . . . relentlessly building the tension. When the woman in the story strained against the ropes, she had done so with her though the only escort kadıköy restraints she wore were those His imagination had placed on her. She had felt the delicious tightness of them as if they had been real and had marveled at how He could dominate her with His words even when He was a thousand miles away.

She shifted in the tub and the small waves that the movement caused bounced off of the sides of the tub and returned to wash over the tops of her breasts. She was becoming aroused again. In spite of the orgasms she had already had, she could feel the familiar tingling and she slipped her right hand beneath the surface of the water. Her left hand moved to her breast and she began to lightly pinch the hard nipple. The oil in the water helped her hands to slide easily over her skin. Her breathing quickened as the hand in the water slid between her legs and she began to stroke her outer lips with her fingertips. In her mind the memory of the story continued.

The woman on the bed was quivering and trying desperately to capture His touch as His hand moved slowly ever closer to her pussy. As she had listened she had mimicked His caresses until she, too, was quivering. By this time, the woman in the story had become real to her and she heard the echo of her voice as they both whispered, “Please” together. When He had finally touched them she had dipped her fingers into her wetness and moaned into the phone. Her skin had been warm and flushed and her breathing had been rapid. He had heard it and she had heard the edge of excitement that had creeped into His voice as He read. The woman in the story was moving inexorably closer to the edge of orgasm as His tongue moved down her body and between her legs. Holding the phone as close to her ear as she could, she had struggled to hear Him over the sound of her own increasingly loud breathing. She had watched as the woman suddenly lifted her hips up off the bed and screamed through the orgasm that His tongue had brought her, and then, in a blinding rush, she had been overtaken by an orgasm of bostancı escort her own that was also caused by His tongue.

With the aftershocks still moving through her body, He had relentlessly continued the story. She and the woman in the story came again . . . and again. The sheets beneath her had been soaked and she was literally writhing as her own hands followed the movements of His in the story and teased her nipples and her clit and even the tight opening of her ass. The waves of pleasure had been washing over her one after another and she had screamed into the phone more than once. Finally, the story had drawn to an end and she had laid trembling and panting with the fingers of her right hand still deep inside her pulsating pussy, trying to catch her breath and listening to His words of love and devotion soothing her as she came down.

Now, as she lay in the tub remembering, she felt the tension building again and she shuddered as it overtook her and some of the water sloshed over the edge of the tub. She moaned loudly and pushed her fingers in deeper in order to prolong the sensation and pressed her feet against the wall, holding her body tense and rigid until the wave passed and the pleasure gradually receded. For a moment or two she lay still before she realized that the water had begun to cool. Taking a deep breath, she stood up, stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around her body. She felt relaxed and a little drowsy. After brushing her hair, she walked into the bedroom, dropped the towel and slipped naked into the bed.

Pulling the blankets up she snuggled down into them and sighed contentedly. The bed was still empty without Him there, but she could not help smiling at the memories. She rolled over and felt the moistness that was still on the sheets from earlier and incredibly it caused a stirring in her once again. She could not believe that she was still aroused. She had thought the orgasm in the tub would be her last for the night, but now she realized that there was going to have to be one more. Switching on a light, she reached for the papers lying on the table and began to read again one of the other stories He had written and as she did so she heard His voice and His words and knew that He was always there . . . in the stories . . .

Copyright by The Gentle Man, 2002

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