Busy Hands

They say idle hands are the devil’s playground. Or something like that.

She’d never really believed in that, but this might be a good jumping-off point in the conversation about to be had.

She slipped off her clothes and dipped her toes in the water to make sure the temperature was what she needed. “A bit cooler please,” she said and stood up just a bit to let him fix the temperature and stir the water in the tub. “There,” he says, offering her his hand to help her into the tub. “See if that’s better.”

ethnic woman drinking white wine in bathtub
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“Much, thank you.” He smiled a bit and took advantage of the chance to take her in, head to toe.

“What would you like to drink this evening?” He asked, gathering up her clothes, and tidying up the room. “I have wine, coffee, tea, and mixed drinks if any of those sound good.”

“Fire up the fireplace please, and a glass of wine would be great!” He did as he was told and headed over to the fireplace to get it going. The room was amazing, spacious and the tub was front and center along the wall. What an amazing hotel she had found, and a fireplace, and… it was perfect.

He brought back her kindle, a glass of water, and a glass of wine.

“Stay please, and undress. This book gives me so much nervous tension reading it. I need something to do with my hands.”

He looked at her, paused for just long enough for her to look over at him, and raise one eyebrow, waiting for him to undress. He did.

“Come on in here, soak your feet. Sit on the side for me while I read. “

Ok, this was just… weird. But he certainly wasn’t going to complain or ask questions. Not really his place. Besides, perhaps she’d have him slip into the tub for a bit…

He carefully stepped into the tub and sat down on the side as she asked. Reached over the side, to a semi-hidden bottle of lube that he hadn’t seen before. She squirted it on him, then settled in with her kindle.

She started reading and, without seeming to even think about it, reached up and massaged him. The effect was very, very fast. He could feel himself responding and she could certainly tell as well. But you couldn’t see it by looking at her. It was actually a little frustrating that she wouldn’t even look up, or make a comment or… anything.

Once she had him fully hard, she settled into a rhythm that was very passive and very slow. She was so distracted by her book, so engrossed.

“Crap. I didn’t think about that,” she said without looking up. “I can’t get to my wine. I need a drink please, ” He hesitated, trying to understand what to do. She continued stroking. “Now, would be great,” she said, still reading, still stroking.

He bent over, picked up the plastic cup of wine, and held it carefully to her lips. Somehow. Someway, she kept reading, kept stroking, while he did so. She drank what she wanted, then motioned away the glass with a nod of her head. “Thank you,” she said.

Still stroking.

This was getting challenging not to squirm. She would make some comment about the book, talking about an exciting part, or a romantic part or whatever. And every time, her grip changed to mimic what was going on. Super firm, extremely light, faster, slower.

It was all he could do just to sit and be good about the overarching rule she’d always put in place. “No cumming without explicit permission, and no, you may not ask, I’ll just grant it if it’s ok.”

This was about to become a problem.

He was feeling that disconnected feeling the “my cock has a mind of its own and this is getting to be a problem situation here…” feeling. He could feel his insides flipping around, could feel it building inside him.

He could feel himself slipping on his ability to shut this down. All of his tools were gone. Sitting screwed with his normal methods of trying to control, and the situation was just crazy anyway and his mind was racing and his body was rebelling.

Just as he was tipping over the edge, she made a show of stopping, then pointing to the wine. “I’d like some more wine, please,” was all she said. He was gasping. She had this ever so slight grin on her face. You might even miss it if you didn’t know her. She grabbed him, holding making a ring with her thumb and forefinger at the base of his cock, then tightening around him. He immediately turned red, veins getting angrier and his body reacting to the physical constriction.

She still hadn’t looked up. Not once.

He brought the glass of wine to her lips, slowly letting her indicate what she wanted by the tilt of her head. She slowly released the grip on his cock for just a moment, long enough to wave away the wine glass without a word, then grabbed him again, squeezing hard.

She stayed this way for a few moments, then eased her grip and started stroking, but it wasn’t like before, it was fast. Steady. Firm, but not too firm. It started at the tip of his cock and traveled all the way down, pressing into him, then returning. He could feel every single bit of her hand riding up and down him.

He quickly roared toward losing control. Realized where it was headed. He made louder noises, warning her without actually warning her. She kept on.

….and then stopped.

“Hand me my towel, will you please,” she said, “I’m ready to get out. What a great book! I finally finished it. And thank you for the wine, it was amazing. So relaxing.”

She stepped out of the tub, he rubbed her down carefully with the towel, drying her off as she put on the fluffy robe provided by the hotel.

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