The Beautiful Kind

Last night The Belle and I took a bath.

We ran the tub and used a LUSH bath bomb of course. We lit candles, and in the candlelight we undressed. As she bent over to test the water, I found myself thinking, “OH MY GOD OH MY GOD SHE IS SO FUCKING HOT I GET TO TAKE A BATH WITH HER!” That’s right, I’m a 35 year old beautiful woman with the brain of a pimply faced 14 year old boy.

Her back tattoos seemed to move and slither in the flickering glow of the candlelight. Her skin gleamed smooth and supple, her backbone slightly visible. She is more lean and brown to my curvy paleness. But we are both so soft.

We both stepped into the bath, the water hot and fizzing, the steamy air filled with the smell of the ocean, salty seaweed, clean, blue. Way lay opposite each other, fitting together like interlocking puzzle pieces in the bathtub. She stroked my leg under the water as I held her foot in my hand. We talked about how we got to this point, what we liked about it, what we hoped would come of it.

Meanwhile, The Beau was out in the cold winter night, at the store picking up things for dinner. He came home and started cooking, and still we lounged in the tub. We switched so that we lay side by side in the narrow tub all entwined - I was amazed we both fit like that. I rest my head on her chest, caressed her belly. I found myself shy and unable to stare openly at her - I kept stealing glances.

She looked down at our resplendent bodies and exclaimed, “That is fucking hot!” I laughed and agreed. She went on to say, “Now I finally GET what guys see when they look at naked women, especially two women together.” (She’s a bi-virgin - or as she puts it, I’m going to take her birginity.)

Finally we got out of the tub, prune-y and warmed to the core. I wrapped a robe around her and we hugged. Again and again and again.