Bath Time

I cut the lemon in half, cut off the ends, cut uneven slices, chose the thinnest slice, plopped it in my glass of Capital Gin Pink Lady, my fourth of the night. A must for open-minded women with an affinity for diversity in our accomplishments, women like me. There were five cubes left in the ice trays: I couldn?t be bothered to fill them up. I cracked out two icebergs, floated them in my gin with a dash, and swallowed half the glass, smacking my lips at the sublime essence of floral hibiscus, earthy thyme grapefruit zest, and vanilla from Madagascar. Tipsy, merry not drunk, drinking for pleasure, drinking to still my nerves, I finished my drink and padded up the spiral staircase round-and-round-and-round the glitterball chandelier until I reached my closet.I was trapped in a loveless marriage, a marriage where I?d become subservient to him, in return for treats. Other than those, all I had left were my adorable daughters, Adalyn and Savannah, and obscene amounts of wealth. I fancied a treat tonight, fancied my chances with him, fancied myself in the dresser mirror. Not bad, considering I?d given birth. I sprayed liberal squirts of expensive scent, Baccarat Rouge 540, behind my ears and applied a fresh smear of cheap lippy from the market.He summoned me from the master bathroom, ?Come and look at this, Sheri.?I crept into our aquatic playroom, or should I say palace? The basin was the essence of luxury, large enough for two of us, finished off in white marble with authentic brass bursa escort taps, situated next to full-length windows which overlooked the grounds. I opened them to let out the steam. We kept all our bric-a-brac on the window shelf: a floral porcelain jug of freshly squeezed orange juice and glasses for me, my loofah, our shared antique carriage clock, a bar of Wright?s coal tar soap.Our en suite bathing set included a matching toilet with a warm wooden seat, white marble wash hand basin, a cupboard for his and her towels. An angular mirror hung on a steel chain on the wall above the sink. Next to the mirror, his pride and glory: the wide-screen plasma monitor dominating the bath.Eager to share his bath, I padded over the polished wooden floorboards in my stockinged feet, past his favourite velvet red chair, where he dried his feet and legs and crotch, to be with him.He sighed contentedly as I stood at the end of the bath, massaging his shoulders with my fleshy fingers. I pressed my naked breasts and soft belly onto his bare back. Pavel reclined, spreading his legs wide apart so that his knees hugged the rim of the bath. He was partially submerged in foamy, frothy water, watching a live video transmission of a fight. I wasn?t particularly amused.?Watching the women play are we Pav? What?s the matter with me? Or am I not allowed to ask??I pushed the palms of my hands as far as his barrel chest tweaking his tiny red nipples until he reached for me drawing my hurt görükle escort face close to his. I looked beautiful hurt: my lips pursed, poker-faced, fire in my teak eyes, my enchanting widow?s peak frowning beneath my shocking mane of flouncy blonde hair. I was blushing hard: a sure-fire sign I was feeling horny, sensual, tonight - and left out. He took my hands in his, guiding them, rubbing them, all over his lean, muscular torso, permitting me to toy with his shallow cratered navel, as he put my mind at rest.?My beauty,? he said, ?this is not a game. You are watching my women fight. My women understand? Stead trains, treats, even cares for them. I own them: they belong to me. Think of them as my horses chomping at the bit before a race. Except this, Sheri, is no race, and these are no ordinary women. They fight. Fight for me. In two days one of them, the tanned one, will fight a man to the death. I back her to win. If she wins, I win, and you get to buy yourself a new frock.?A new frock? A whole new wardrobe he meant. I calmed. In some ways, life for this spoilt brat couldn?t get much better. I had everything I could ever wish for: a beautiful Georgian mansion hidden in acres of highland forest, a sensational sports car: my stunning metallic red Ferrari, a rugged, handsome husband.If only he?d treat me with respect, more like a woman, less like his dumb blonde barbie doll.I slid my fingers over his wet belly and scratched his proud flesh with my uncut bursa escort bayan fingernails.?The tanned woman,? I asserted, tenderly caressing his heavy, swollen balls.He sighed in blissful surrender to my feminine persuasive charms, ?mmmn, the tanned one.??Not the pale one??I removed my hand, wiped his spunk on my thigh, went and stood at the far end of the bath, sideways on so that he could enjoy my stunning figure. His jaw fell. I had this incredible effect on him whenever I undressed into lingerie: my sexiest sheer see-through black suspender belt and lace stockings. Pouting my lips for him I unclipped my stockings from my suspender belt and peeled them off, then I took off my suspender belt. No point in getting them all wet. For a moment, I stood at the end of the bath staring at him with my little lady-lost eyes, relaxed, resting one hand on my hips, stroking my thigh, jutting out my pert breasts, flashing him the divine curvature of my smooth rump, my subtle tease of curly pubic hair.I clambered into the bath. The water was perfect for sex: not too hot, not too cold. Perfect.I slapped his face. He squinted and gawped at me standing over him like his matka used to do when she scolded him for beating up pupils at his prefabricated skola in central Prague, as if to say: what was that for? Bara exasperated me when he behaved like this: acting innocent.?You don?t even know their names, do you?? I said, ?Don?t you have any respect for women??Bara just boasted, ?None whatsoever. Quit griping and watch the fight. They?re about to start.?I felt ill. I hated violence, especially if it involved vulnerable young women. Perhaps if I made it up to him? I ran my fingers over his lips, slipping them inside his mouth, intimately seducing him.