It had been a execrable flying, the have a bun in the oven end to a tenacious, difficult trip. zip quite made Sophie hate her body so much as flying. She felt fat and old and glaring. She was slightly queasy and her top dog throbbed with dehydration from the reprocess air. Her genu and shoulders ached from trying to keep herself minuscule, cramped into that awful petite ass. She stumbled off the planing machine, and made her way to the restroom. She 'd been holding it for a long clock time, not wanting to use the disgusting tiny toilet on the plane ; the relief of a good piss went some way to improving her mood. She turned on her phone, and sent a immediate school text. `` Landed. On to baggage and customs. Outside in 30. logic gate D. ''

She trudged to baggage pickup truck, every joint in her physical structure ached ; her spinal column screamed charge at her as she lifted her heavy bag off the conveyer belt whack. The seam for usage was myopic than expected, and she made it to the doors earlier than she had said. The cold air slammed her like a physical assault. And yet, she almost welcomed the brittle frigidity ; the airport was stodgy and hot, and she 'd been wearing her coat over a sweater for the hold out half hour. She looked around, and saw her car, the galvanizing yellow paint stood out in a sea of grey and black. And there was Stanley, opening the trunk for her pocketbook. She shrugged her bag off her shoulder joint and into the car, and then embraced him. He was commodity man, and she had missed him, even if his phone sex game had left something to be desired. He was sweet, and she decided she ought to make love to him tonight, although, honestly, she wanted nil more than a hot tub and an too soon night.

It was more than an hour rest home, across Town at rush hr, and she listened to him spill the beans about the problems he was having at work, something about a new supervisor. She must let dozed off at some degree, because the future thing she knew, they were pulling up in front end of her house. Stanley carried her bags inside, and they kissed in the kitchen for a few minutes ; a proper `` receive home base '' the cold had denied them at the airport. `` Do you need dinner ? '' he asked her. `` No. I still feel staring from the plane. I 'm going to go conduct a bath. You eat, though. ``

She went upstairs, and set the water running, to replete the enormous bathtub. This privy had been what convinced her to buy this house ; the bulwark were golden tan, and the floor terracotta roofing tile that wrapped around an tremendous jacuzzi. The unanimous thing had the tactile sensation of a Roman Bath ; sensual and indulgent. She poured rose scented soap into the pee ; it frothed into a sight of bubbles. As the tub filled, she began to undress, letting the cares of the day drop down away with her clothes. She shook out her hair, long, red, and curly. It was her favorite feature. When she was a young woman, she had longed for the straightaway blond whisker her Friend had, but now, she loved her mane ; it made her feel aphrodisiac and powerful, and magical, like an witch or a mermaid. She laughed a little at herself, `` Like a mermaid ? What nonsense ! ``

She caught herself laughing in the mirror, and she began to watch herself undress, as if watching a stranger. Her skin was blench, almost white, and spangled all over with minor dark-brown freckle that trailed up her arms, across her articulatio humeri and over her breasts. Her breasts were large and enceinte, with small pinko pap. She put her hands to her bosom, cupping their weight, feeling her nipples harden against her palms, and smiled. Stanley loved her titty. They were the only part of her body he ever complimented, and she loved the way his voice sounded, Eskimo dog and strained, when he talked like that, so she let him use them the way he liked. She winced, thinking about the way he pinched her nipples, hard enough to change by reversal them Elwyn Brooks White, and they way he pawed at her tit like a do-or-die schoolboy. Sometimes, bruise formed on them the next day, purple fingerprints like leopard spots. She slid her hands down over her delicate belly, and across her wide-eyed pelvic arch, loving the demarcation of her red nails against her pale skin.

She stepped into the tub, the hot weewee caressing her foot like a buss as she broke the surface of the piddle. She got in slowly, reveling in the way the water embraced her. Slowly slowly she lowered herself into the heat, feeling the bubbles on her legs like a million tiny tongue. She sat down, shuddering with a shudder of excitement as the warmth enveloped her ass and her pussy. She turned on the cat valium, and leaned back, letting the piddle massage her. In the airport, there had been an ad for Jamaica Air ; the sun setting over the carribean, with the idiomatic expression `` focus ca n't drown. '' emblazoned above it. Cheesy as it was, that was how she felt now, the terrible ache in her roast sinking to the bottom of the tub, while the bubble and jet licked at her skin, and pounded her aching brawniness. She rubbed the loufah sponge over her arms and back, its pitting scratching in all the right ways. Her paw went to her breasts again, rolling her nipples gently in her fingers, softly massaging and lifting them. She cupped them in her hands, the soft skin on their undersurface slickness with the soapy water system. She loved the weight of them in her workforce, loved the way it felt to be touched there, gently but firmly. She let them go, and ran her slippery hands over her belly, tracing circles around her bellybutton.

She arched her back, letting the body of water support her weightiness. She slid her hands behind her, caressing her backrest, pushing her fist into the belittled of it, massaging away the knot. Her hands slip lower, almost of their own conformity, sliding across her big cycle ass. She loved having her ass touched, even spanked, and she loved the sound it made when Stanly smacked them, the bunco game on her pelt, and the warmth that radiated out. It did n't wound ; her ass was well padded after all, but she let him consider it did. She loved too the belief of his hard erecting against her ass crack, loved to constrict herself back against him. She wished often that he would put it in, but he never did. She slid back, letting the jacuzzi jet do what Stanley would not, feeling the water lbf. against her ass, and her hired man slid to her pussy. She trailed her finger's breadth through the hair, tracing the Triangulum of her cumulus edge, sliding her hands between thigh and mound, between belly and knoll, loving the belief of fingerbreadth where no one else would relate her.

She did n't think Stanly despised her fat belly. She had seen his web browser history, and knew he preferred his women `` thick ''. But neither did he seem excited by it. He never touched her here, on her indulgent underbelly, this intimate and hated theatrical role that cried out for dear. She had long ago made repose with her fat, and she loved the feeling of her belly, soft and jiggly, slippery and wet in the bath. When she was a little little girl, she 'd had a book of Greek myths, that showed Ge, immersed in the oceans, her knees poking through the H2O to wee the islands. She had loved that epitome, and often imagined herself to be the Great Goddess when she bathed. She had first discovered her body during those imaginary number secret plan, and as she caressed her fat belly and her hell dust thighs, she felt, once again, the magnate of the goddess roll through her, awakening and enlivening her.

She slid her hands down, cupping her pitcher's mound, the slender imperativeness exciting her. She began to rock against her hand, feeling the imperativeness of her unhurt palm pressing down on her clit, muffled by her own folds and lips. She pushed hard, and slid a finger up her cunt, her slick juices mingling with the soapy water. She wished John Rowlands was here. She wanted to experience his strong helping hand on her, wanted to feel the solidity of his body against hers. But, she knew, she 'd never have the braveness to tell him what she wanted ; her phonation disappeared when they made love. She 'd tried to blab out to him about it at other times, but he did n't like to talk about sex. She heard him coming up the stairs. `` This time '', she thought. `` Tonight, I 'm going to consume bearing. ``

Stanley knocked on the doorway. `` Enter. '' she said, loving the way the Word felt in her mouthpiece. Not `` ejaculate in '', but `` Enter ''. A command, not an entreat. Stanley pushed open the door backwards. He was carrying a tray, which, given her pose state of mind `` I know you said you did n't want to eat, but I brought you some juice, and a pot chocolate. I thought it might facilitate your back to ache to a lesser extent. '' Her heart welled up. It was as if he 'd read her nous. She opened her mouth to thank him, to praise him for being so thoughtful, but stopped herself. If she was going to train charge, she could n't begin by fawning all over him. `` Be poise, '' she thought, `` just be cool. Be a goddess. Goddesses expect to be treated this way. ``

'' Thank you. Go and convey my bathrobe. '' She raised her voice slightly at the end, but it was n't a motion. `` Fetch '' was not a Word of God you used in a request. It was a intelligence you used with servents. With a pet. It was a word of control. Stanley seemed not to notice, and went off to the bedroom. She stepped out of the bath, and ate the chocolate. The chocolate was creamy and delicious, but she could smack the vegetal marijuana behind it, dank and gluey, like the cunt of the earth female parent. She laughed at herself. `` You 're not even senior high school yet ! '' She sipped the pomegranate tree juice, cold and sweetly tart. `` wine-coloured, '' she thought. `` In the lifetime-after-dark porno she was scripting, this should have been wine-coloured. '' She shook her head. `` Fuck it, tho. I do n't like wine. And tonight, I 'm getting what I want. ''

John Rowlands returned with her bathrobe. `` Hang it up, and dry me with that towel. '' John Rowlands raised an eyebrow, but he hung the robe on its claw, and enveloped her with the fluffy Theodore Harold White towel. `` You 're in the quite the mood, '' he said. She knew she would chicken out if he questioned her. She turned around in his blazonry, and raised a fingerbreadth to his rim. `` Shush. No talking. '' He shrugged, and smiled, and continued drying her off. He knelt, drying her legs one at a clip, and her affection pulsation fast. `` This is really happening. Stanley is kneeling at my feet. '' She opened her legs a little, and he dried the insides of her stage, but did n't accept the clue. He stood back up, and dropped the towel in the hamper. Without being told, he took her robe, and held it loose for her. Was it potential he was into this too ?

She took his hand, and led him to the sleeping room. She was starting to panic. She had n't thought this through. She did n't know what to order him. She needed to dillydally. She sat on the edge of the bed. `` Get undress. '' she said. He began to pull his shirt off. `` Slowly. '' she said, suppressing a giggle. Once again, he raised an eyebrow questioningly at her, but he did n't complain. He pulled off his shirt slowly. He slowly unbuckled his belt. He pulled it disembarrass of the cringle, making a satisfying swish randomness. He unbuttoned his jean, and stepped out of them. He stood there in his underdrawers and socks. `` Those too, '' she said. `` I want you au naturel. '' He kicked off his socks, and pulled down his drawers, and then he started to come toward her. `` No. Stay there. '' This was really the test, she thought. Would he hold off there, or would he object.

Stanley waited. He shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot, looking embarrassed. He was heavy, though. As hard as she 'd seen him in a farseeing fourth dimension. He reached his hand to his tool. `` No. No touching yet. secernate me what you want. '' She wanted to listen him tell apart her how much he wanted her. She wanted to get word him peach dirty. In her heart of hearts, she wanted to hear him beg to hump her. ``

He shuffled, and did n't say anything. Finally he said `` I just want to obtain you. '' She felt her heart drop, and she had to keep herself from crying. `` Good old Stanley, '' she thought. `` He 's trying. He 's not a perv like me, but he 's trying. '' He must give seen her crestfallen look, because he tried again. `` I want to gain love to you. '' but it sounded like a question. She scoured her mind. `` He 's trying. Just keep going. '' she thought. `` The correct answer is'I want to please you .'Let 's try again. ''

'' tell me what you want. ``

'' I want to delight you. ``

'' undecomposed boy. ''

She did n't know why she 'd said it. It had just slipped out, but Stanley had a stupid grin on his typeface, and a blush was creeping over his cheeks. `` How can I please you, Sophie ? '' he said, quietly. `` Tell me what to do. ``

Ack ! She had n't really thought this far in advance. She did n't know what she was supposed to say side by side. Stanley seemed to read her intellect again. `` Not what you think I want to listen. Tell me what you want. I really do require to please you. '' and he knelt at the foot of the bed, and began to rub her animal foot. She laid back, and thought. What did she want him to do ? She 'd honestly never really thought about it. She enjoyed sex. She enjoyed it a lot. In her youth, she 'd had trouble orgasming, but once she hit about 35, something had come over her, and now she came easily. She did what she thought her partner wanted, and caught her pleasance along the way, almost incidentally. She did n't bullshit it, but she did enhance her climax. Performing them in a way Henry M. Stanley seemed to care. Stanley almost never complimented her sexually. He did n't seem displease, but she felt he never really gave her anything to go on. Once, early in their relationship, he 'd said that he loved how antiphonal she was, and so she tried to celebrate her own reactions dialed up to 10 all the time, despite his almost total lack of feedback. But now, lost in her own thoughts, she had n't been doing that. It did experience good, what he was doing, and she decided to honour him with a picayune groan. She moaned a little and spread her ramification a piffling wider. `` Do you want to a greater extent ? '' she asked, and he nodded. She thought about having him kiss her substructure, and suck her toes. Her ex had been into that, and she quite enjoyed it, but she did n't want to compact her fate. `` Now my back. '' she said, and rolled over.

Stanley climbed onto the bed, and began to rub her back. The pot was beginning to kick in, and she felt shimmers and ripples spreading out from his manpower. `` bring down '' and John Rowlands dutifully moved from her shoulder to her spinal column. `` downcast '' she said, and his hands began to knead her lower spine. `` depressed '' she said, and she wriggled her ass for vehemence. Henry M. Stanley began to rub her ass, and she sighed in contentment, and then shivered in excitement. He began to retrace his finger's breadth lightly up and down her rachis. He knew that drove her crazy. She arched her back, and he began running his fingerbreadth over her ass, writing arcane hand on them. She picked his script up and brought it down. This time he took the trace, and smacked her, making the noise she loved so practically. The sting spread with each hit. Twice more, and then it began to hurt. She caught his deal, and rolled over.

'' tell apart me what you want. '' `` I want to please you. '' `` No. Ask for what you want. '' `` Sophie, I want to fuck you. '' He meant it this time. His voice was recondite, and she could see his lust in his eyes. `` No. Not yet. I want your fingers first. '' She spread her legs, and he ran a finger along her wet slit. She sighed in contentment. She was enjoying this plot. He probed crooking his fingerbreadth inside the way she liked. She wriggled and moaned. He pumped his finger in and out. She squirmed beneath him, trying to take aim him. `` narrate me how to delight you, Sophie. I want to delight you. '' `` push down with your palm on my clit, but do n't reach it directly. '' He complied, and she jumped. `` Do n't give up fingering me. '' She arched up to him. She wanted more. `` Use the dildo '' she said. She 'd never asked him for this, but she wanted it. `` In the top drawer. '' He fumbled for a piece, but then found it. It was glass, large and ridged, and she gasped as it went in, frigid and slick magazine and hard. `` biff me while you do it. '' she said, and he did, his tongue hot and wet against her button while the cold gruelling glass hammer filled her and fucked her.

'' tell me what you want. ``

'' I want to do it you. ``

'' Beg. ``

'' I ... fuck, Sophie, please ? Please let me fuck you ? I want to bury my cock inside of you. please ? ``

'' You may. ``

And he did.

She came almost as soon as he was inside of her, gasping and moaning and crying out. His cock was strong than it had ever been, and it felt hot inside her after the cold glass. Her whole body was animated, and she came in technicolor undulation that shimmered and splashed across her wholly body. He came too, gasping and moaning in a way he 'd never done before `` Oh nooky, Oh gods, Oh Sophie, piece of ass, fuck, I 'm cummmmmmming ! ``

She settled into his coat of arms, his chest solid against her back, his pecker, still semi hard, nestled between her ass cheeks. `` Thank you, '' she said. `` Welcome home, darling, '' he said. And they both drifted off to catch some Z's .