Bathtime: An Ode to my Fishie

'Sup?

This is a little bit daft, but I enjoyed it. It's been ages since I wrote longhand, so I got out my favourite pen and a notepad I like and out tumbled this little story:

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I’m luxuriating in the bath. The water is so hot I can only just about sit in it comfortably and full of bubbles. Steam wafts gently towards the ceiling and I am surrounded by blissful peace and quiet.

I reach for my fishie vibrator for some hard earned me-time. He looks a little bit odd – big googly eyes and orange and yellow flame motif – but to me, he's perfect. He's mine. I switch him on and watch him float. He emits a soft buzz and sends little ripples out across the surface of the water. My clit throbs slightly in anticipation.

I like being called a slut and a whore but not all the time. My fishie doesn't call me names or demand anything of me. I can think about whoever I want. I don't have to worry which name I moan. Fishie just vibrates away quietly and non-judgementally as I fantasise about two to three different guys and the odd girl, my imagination flipping easily between them, their hands and mouths and cocks all utilised for my pleasure, and mine alone.

That big googly eye presses deliciously against my clit. I tingle with warmth and delight as I massage over and around, as slowly or as quickly as I like. I pinch my nipples and think about my bloke, lapping his tongue against my hard, tingling bud. I press the long thin slat of the fishie's tail just inside my cunt and think about a guy I want to fuck, imagine him lazily stroking his cock against my entrance, at my beck and call rather than my submissive self at his. I spread my lips with my fingers to push the almost silent vibrator harder against the knot of inflamed nerves. Gratification fans out into my stomach and thighs and I press my legs against the sides of the bath, each new sensation as pleasing as the last.

Sweat is dripping down my forehead and landing on my bare chest. I feel each trickle running down my face and remember passionate, sweaty sex, the feel of sweat dripping from am exuberant lover. This is where I get to relive each moment, flicking through them at my choosing. I can take the awkward moments that I would rather forget and twist them into glorious experiences that I never want to end. My fishie doesn't ask me how I want it, he just smiles as I flip him over, the hard edge of his tail digging into my throbbing clit, urging me towards my climax. I add fingers to ease myself slowly, teasingly over the brink into a warm, decadent orgasm, taking my time to savour the waves of easy pleasure that rush over me. Only when I’m alone do I get these relaxed, lazy orgasms, which is part of what makes them so special.

I shiver despite the heat of the water and revel in the gentle throb of my pussy as I let my fishie float to the top of the bath. He bobs about, as happy as I am, ready to go again but equally pleased if I decide I’m done. I switch him off and put him back and I can just sit and wallow in my bath, no need to clean up or make small talk. I don't need to analyse my performance or his. I can just be. My fishie is an unconditional, exquisite lover. My next bath could be tomorrow, or it could be months away. But fishie will be there, patiently waiting for the next time I decide I want some me-time.

Posted in: random,toys,writing