Total pages in book: 216
Estimated words: 206530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 826(@250wpm)___ 688(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 206530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 826(@250wpm)___ 688(@300wpm)
My bra comes off next. Then his warm hands are on my body again, starting on my hips and caressing down as he slides my panties off.
He leads me with an arm around my waist like he did earlier.
“Step,” he says. “Careful.” He holds my hand as I step blindly over the rim of what I’m guessing is a bathtub. My foot sinks into warm water. It’s deeper than I expect and I have to clutch Xavier for balance. God, is that the point of the blindfold? So I have to depend on him for absolutely everything? My food? Every single step I take? I mean, is that some sort of deeper lesson I’m supposed to be getting from all this?
Or am I making too much of it and he just gets off on having chicks blindfolded?
“Steady,” he says, holding me up.
More splashes. He’s getting in with me. Just how big is this bath? And when did he take off his clothes? I guess he could have taken them off when the bathwater was running and I might not have heard him.
With slight pressure on my shoulder, he urges me to sit down, keeping me stable while I go down on a knee, then settle into the warm water.
He drops with me, sitting as well. Which is when I realize it must be a specialty bath or jacuzzi because both of us fit easily with room to spare. A second later, jets turn on, confirming my thought. Churning water immediately starts to relax my aching muscles.
Xavier settles himself behind me, legs spread on either side of my body. In the second it takes me to wonder if us being naked in such a confined space is affecting him, I feel his hard length pressing against the small of my back. Yep, he’s affected all right.
He must feel me tense because his hands immediately come to my shoulders. He begins massaging, up to my neck and all down my arms. “Shh, relax,” he murmurs.
Said the spider to the fly.
He slips the blindfold off my eyes in the next moment and I blink, expecting a rush of brightness. But the sun has gone down, so even though there is a large open window and a skylight, the room is dark except for a single flickering candle on the counter near the doorway.
Xavier prefers the dark. Because he doesn’t like people seeing his face, or for some other reason?
Either way, I don’t turn back to look at him. For a while I strain to make out details of the bathroom as my eyes adjust. The bathroom is large, like his room. I can make out a shower in addition to the jacuzzi bath. There’s a high, wide window that’s actually uncurtained and open to the moon and a scattering of what seems like a million stars.
The bubbling jets drown out all other noises but I smell the sweet scent of my body wash in the moments before Xavier lifts my left arm and starts rubbing the soap up and down into my skin. My arm feels small in his large hands as he soaps my forearm and then down to my wrist, then to my hand.
He pays particular attention to each individual finger. Momentarily our fingers lace together as he works the soap and my breath hitches stupidly at the intimacy.
Then his other hand joins the first and he begins the most relaxing and amazing hand massage I’ve ever received. I have to fight against groaning and going limp against him. The struggle is real. Especially when he gives my right hand the same treatment as the first.
Between his gentle, expert ministrations, my full tummy, and the warm, soothing jets, I feel like I might just drift away on a pampered bubble.
I might even actually drowse for a few minutes while he continues washing me. He uses a washcloth to wash my face and neck again, then down to my chest where he cups and washes each breast with particular care.
In the back of my mind, I know I’m supposed to be actively mentally fighting against him. But I’ll get back to that tomorrow. Just… need to close… eyes… for a second…
I wake briefly when I feel him rubbing frothy shampoo into my hair. He massages my scalp as I lean all my weight back against his chest. When he rinses, he holds my neck easily with one broad palm to tip my head backward while he pours water from a cup he fills from the bathtub faucet.
Then his hands move with the washcloth down my body, around my hips to my inner thighs.
He drains and refills the tub to get fresh water after his initial scrub down, keeping me against the heat of his body so I’m warm the whole while. Then he continues where he left off. He grabs the flesh of my inner thigh and kneads it with more strength instead of the gentle massage he did on my upper body.