Wind and Unwind
By: Jupiter Grant
Tags: Fingering, Sex, Erotica, Relaxation, Unwind

Wind and Unwind

Photo by Kristina Stepanidenko on Unsplash

I haven’t had time to think lately. To relax. To close my eyes, and exhale. So when my phone buzzed to life all of a sudden, I confess that I swore and muttered, “Oh, not now.”

Even when I saw that it was him. The one I am crazy about. The only one who really ever manages to calm me down and keep me sane, if only for an hour or two.

A text: Bet ur still working. u eaten today, naughty girl? En route, with food and wine

It was just gone 7.30pm, and I hadn’t even showered today. God knows how many weeks (or is it months?) since my legs last saw a razor. I know he’s never been remotely bothered by any amount of hair on my legs, armpits, or pussy. But wrapping hirsute and mannish legs around him always feels like an insult, especially when he makes the effort to be clean-shaven before he runs that delicious mouth of his over my body.

So I responded to his message with oh no! Lost track of time. Am gross. Not showered. Still in ystrdys pants!!

Within seconds, his reply arrived. Excellent. Always enjoy it when ur filthy…

I smirked to myself, as another message pinged onto my phone immediately.

don’t shower b4 I get there. Promise. Am serious

I chuckled, and replied ok, but still I changed my underwear, brushed my teeth vigorously, and ran a damp washcloth under my arms, my breasts, and between my thighs.

By the time he buzzed the entryphone and arrived at my front door, I’d saved my work on the computer, put it into sleep mode, and put fresh sheets on the bed. When I opened the door, the sight of his smiling blue eyes and his cheeky grin made my heart pound and my stomach turn a somersault. Though perhaps the mouthwatering smell of the Chinese takeaway was at least partly responsible, too.

In the kitchen, takeaway safely stashed on the counter, he pressed himself up against my back and began kissing my neck and earlobes.

“Hmmm, you smell dirty….” he murmured, with a deep inhalation and an aroused groan, and just the husky timbre of his voice was enough to make me soak through the clean knickers I’d only just put on. He slid his warm hands up under my jumper, cupping my breasts and breathing, “are you a dirty girl, mmm?”

I let my head loll back, and sighed, “uh-huh. Very.”

“Excellent,” he growled, and pulled the jumper over my head before dragging me toward the bathroom.

As fiery and lustful as he had been only moments before, the way he stripped me naked while the bathtub filled with hot water was tender and careful.

“Gah! My legs are so hairy!!” I blushed.

“Couldn’t give a toss. Trust me,” he laughed with a snort. He slid my knickers down my legs, the final shred of clothing, and bent his head to plant a gentle kiss on my right butt-cheek, then directed me to step into the tub.

There’s only really room for one in my tub, sadly. And yet the proceeding ablutions were as hot and erotically charged as though he’d been naked in there with me. He gently soaped my body, rinsed me and rubbed me over with the washcloth, and shampooed my hair, kneeling beside the bath with his shirt sleeves rolled up and a heavy-lidded, sultry look of lust in his eyes. When he had rinsed away the last suds of shampoo, he gently eased my body back, and murmured, “Lie back and relax, baby.”

He didn’t have to ask me twice, and I closed my eyes and savoured the velvet caress of the bathwater against my skin, while my beautiful and tender lover ran his fingers softly and gently up and down my arms, over my clavicle, across my breasts and, letting his arm sink lower under the water, traipsing over my belly and down to my bush. I moaned softly and let my legs fall apart. His fingers found me immediately, and he stroked gently, slowly, avoiding my clit at first in favour of teasing my labia and playfully pulling on my pubic hair. Just the way he knows I like it.

I must have made a strangled sound, or something, because he started to chuckle throatily at me, and slid his middle finger between the wet lips of my pussy. With his finger deep inside me, the heel of his hand pressed hard against my clitoris, and I felt the hot itch in my lower belly as my areolas tightened and my nipples hardened.

“Mmmm, make me cum,” I mumbled, arching my back and doing my best to ride his hand towards climax. “Please…”

His head lowered to my neck, and he licked a slow trail down my chest, before sucking warm water droplets off my breast and nipping at my hard peaks with his teeth. Under the water and between my legs, I felt him slip his index finger inside me, and his two digits began to move steadily, languidly, in and out of my pussy while his palm ground against my clit. I squeezed my eyes shut as the orgasm erupted from me like liquid mercury, and I cried out as he bit down hard on my nipple just at the moment I reached the pinnacle of my pleasure.

God, I’d needed this. I hadn’t even realised how much until that precise moment when I breathed in hard, the blissful magic of his touch taking over my whole body, and inhaled the smell of his hair, so close to my face as his mouth teased my breasts. He kept me laid back and cumming again and again in the bathtub until the skin on our hands was wrinkling and the growling of my stomach reminded us that our Chinese food was growing cold back in the kitchen. He helped me from the tub and, with a tender kiss on my temple, wrapped a big bathsheet around me before retreating to the kitchen to re-heat dinner.

Later in the evening, when the detritus from the meal had been cleared away, we curled up together on my sofa to watch a movie on BBC2, chatting casually whenever there was a lull in the storyline. With my head resting on his chest, he stroked my damp hair gently, and it wasn’t long before I had drifted off to sleep in his arms, where I rested half-comatose for a couple of hours, missing the end of the film but waking up blissed out and more relaxed than I had felt in I couldn’t remember how long.

Yes, it’s part of his special magic to be able to make me unwind. Ironic, in a way as, sexually, he is likewise uniquely able to wind me up like an antique pocket watch. And I thank my lucky stars for it- for him — especially at times like these, when I have a tendency to let the world distract me and to forget to take care of myself….