The Bidet

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Copyright © 2006 by licapeba. All rights reserved. This work may not be reproduced anywhere in any form without written permission from the author.

*

“Why don’t you try out the bidet?” I asked.

She looked at me with a curious mixture of love and apprehension playing through her eyes. She knew what I wanted.

We had moved into the house a few weeks ago and were finally getting settled. We weren’t collapsing into bed exhausted every night any more, and opportunities for playful sexuality were returning to our lives.

She was my wife, she knew me well. She knew my tender passion for her body and spirit, as well as my lust for her bum and my longstanding desire to try her there. She had always resisted, with embarrassment, when I proposed in various verbal and non-verbal ways that we explore that part of our sexuality. Even though we probably enjoyed as varied and as frequent a sex life as average real-life parents/professionals do, the allure of the untried soft curves of her bum, the fantasies of bending her over something and taking her gently from behind had not faded over the years.

Lately, I had been sensing that her embarrassment and reluctance had faded instead. A recent indication had occurred months before when we had first viewed the house we eventually bought. The house had a sumptuous, fully-appointed master bathroom. When she caught my eye as I was imagining the possibilities in using the bidet, she had rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. “You’re a bad boy!” she said with a slight smirk. “It’s for hygienic purposes only, get your mind out of the gutter!” She slapped my chest with the back of her hand and whirled from me to leave the bathroom. But just before she did she wiggled her wonderful round bum at me, and looked over her shoulder with playful eyes to watch my reaction.

Months later, moved in, settling, the moment seemed to have arrived.

“OK,” she said to my suggestion, “but I’m going in there by myself! I want to try it out first, without you mauling me or getting kinky on me.”

I reluctantly agreed, and pulled her to me for a long, soft kiss before turning her towards the bathroom and patting her bum to move her towards it.

I sat on the edge of the bed, slowly removing my clothes. She had left the door partially open, and I listened to the sounds coming from the bathroom. I heard the rustle of her top coming off and softly puddling onto the floor, the little click as her bra was released and then shuffled off, the zipper of her jeans coming down and the impatient rustling as she worked them off her smooth legs, the small clink as her belt buckle landed on the marble floor. Finally, I heard the water start to run.

After a minute or so, she called out. “OK,” she said, “how do you work this stupid thing?!”

Naked, I pushed open the door and stepped into the little toilet room off our large bathroom. She watched me enter in the large mirror facing the bidet, her face painted with exasperation and embarrassment. I was going to have to go slowly.

She was naked too, of course, and sitting on the bidet, perched over the bowl. In the mirror I could see her beautiful firm breasts rising proudly, nipples already stiff with… excitement? Cold or nervousness, more likely. Below them, her smooth flat stomach was interrupted by the soft indentation of her belly button, and then a small, very neat triangle patch of soft hair which pointed downwards to the treasure beneath. Because I asked her to, she kept her pussy completely smooth and bare. It was an originally-reluctant gift which added a whole bunch to my excitement. Though she still occasionally complained about the labour of keeping it that way, she had eventually conceded that she enjoyed its benefits too. However I could see that its feminine softness still awaited filling with excitement. She wasn’t having fun yet.

I stepped up behind her and leaned down to wrap my arms around her shoulders, squeezing her in a hug. My cock pressed into her warm back, and as I pulled her head into my chest and leaned down to kiss her forehead, the clean fragrance of her soft hair rose to meet me.

“My love,” I said, “that’s what the third tap is for. Have you got the temperature right?”

“I think so,” she said. I reached into the bowl to test the water. She liked her showers hot, so hot I could barely hold myself under them. “I think maybe a little less hot, at least for your first try,” I said, and I reached around her to increase the cold water a little. “Now, scooch forward, closer to the taps, you’re too far back.”

She moved forward and hunched over, the taps between her open legs. In the mirror I could see enough of her face to know that she still felt uncomfortable being here. “Just wait,” I said, “rest your head in your hands.” The long, smooth expanse of her back was an invitation and an opportunity. She loved having her back rubbed. She leaned further forward, elbows on knees, head in hands, and waited.

I bahis firmaları began at her neck, working my fingers and thumbs into the muscles of her neck and shoulders, and then slowly worked down both sides of her spine, working to the music of the water trickling into the bowl beneath her. The warm humidity of the bidet bowl caressed her, and rose to meet my hands as they kneaded into her lower back and the wonderful softness at the top of her bum. Over the peaceful sound of the water I finally heard what I’d hoped for, a low, soft moan.

For minutes more I worked my way up and down her back, feeling it become more and more relaxed, and was rewarded with more moans and cooing sounds. Finally I bent and kissed my way across her shoulders, and wrapped my arms around her. “Let’s try it now,” I said. She looked at me in the mirror, eyes soft, and said, “I love you,” before leaning back against me.

I reached around and slowly turned up the third tap, the one which controlled the all-important jet in the bidet. “Oh!” She jumped a little, and I knew the water was gently brushing against her tender little hole. It was well below full force. I stopped adjusting, to let her get used to the feeling. After a moment or two, she began moving slightly, shifting herself experimentally around against the gentle flow, and smiled at me in the mirror. She liked it!

I reached around and softly brushed the bottoms of her wonderful, full breasts with my palms before sliding up and letting the nipples drag across my closed fingers. She squirmed a little more. I took

both nipples between my thumbs and forefingers and squeezed lightly as I rolled them back and forth, then pulled off to flick them very gently, but rapidly. “Mmmmmmmmm!” She moved her hips again, rolling her delicate flower over the gently-brushing jet of the bidet.

I again wrapped my arms around her smooth, warm shoulders, cupped her breasts with one, and with the other reached down to the tap. “Let’s go all the way,” I said, and slowly turned up the jet to full.

The serene pleasure in her face changed to a look of contemplative wonder for a couple of moments as the jet surged against her and new sensations rippled through her nether parts. But then consternation suddenly moved in. “Oh, no, stop, the water is going inside me! Turn it off! Turn it off!”

I deliberately hesitated for just a moment before turning down the jet, leaving it playing gently against her.

“It filled me up!” she said with some anguish.

“Shhhh! It’s OK my love, just let it out.” I leaned down to press my lips gently against her mouth, silencing her, until I felt her relax. “Now, just let it out, it’s perfectly natural.”

I didn’t need to hear the squirting as she obeyed; the look of embarrassment on her face in the mirror told me what she was doing. I quickly leaned in for another long, soft kiss, pulling out the embarrassment, feeling her again relax into my arms. “Now, let’s try it again.” I looked in the mirror, half-expecting to see an objection forming, but she looked tenderly back at me. “I guess that wasn’t so bad,” she said.

Two, three, four more times over twice as many minutes we gently filled her and she released as I caressed her warming body with feathery touches and soft kisses. It wasn’t making her wild with excitement, but she started to enjoy the sensations and I could tell that she had become aroused by our play in the humid heat of the little room. I turned the jet off.

“Now, move back a bit.”

She immediately complied, sliding back slightly over the surface of the bidet, and then leaned back into me with a happy sigh. “Are you done playing with your toy?” My cock, pressed into her warm, smooth back, surged as I thought about what we would do next. She reached down and ran her cool hands over the calves of my legs. “That was nicer than I expected, even a bit sexy, but I think I’m going to fall asleep soon.”

“Oh, I don’t think so!” I reached over her and twisted the jet control, not quite all the way up. She snapped upright and her half-lidded eyes shot open as the warm jet splashed against her clit.

Perfect aim! “Oh! Oh wow!” Her hands tightened on my legs. As I reached down and began gently flicking her nipples, she sucked in her breath. “Oohhhhhh!” With one hand, I flicked the jet up to full blast. “Oh god! Oh! This is so fast! Ohhhhh!”

I didn’t want it to be too fast, she usually didn’t either. I reached down and lowered the jet to a more-gentle thrumming, and felt her relax against me. Soon, though, she started rolling her hips again, moving herself in a small circle around the jet. After a few moments she tilted her head up for a kiss and then said simply, “More.”

“Wait,” I said, and continued gently caressing her, around her back, her neck, her breasts, her lower stomach, and finally her smooth, bare pussy lips. I noted that they were now puffy with excitement, which added to my own excitement as I massaged them together and apart, kaçak iddaa together and apart, alternately closing her briefly and then exposing her wide to the relentless jet of water. The mid-force jet continued its work too, and the object of our affection was becoming increasingly aroused as we worked, minute by minute. She began moaning, and gradually her moans became louder, longer, more frequent, more high-pitched, until she was almost constantly keening, squeezing my legs with her hands, rolling her hips, squirming her back against me as she moved towards release. Her eyelids were fluttering, her breasts were flushed, and soon they began rapidly rising and falling as she started panting. She was already on the edge, faster than usual.

“I’m going to try something else, let me know if it hurts.” I quickly turned off the hot water, and then abruptly turned up the jet to full force. As the water thrumming against her clit turned to almost-icy cold and hardened against her, my lovely wife deeply sucked in her breath. I could see a protest begin to form in her face, but she held it back and she stiffened as the sensation washed through her. She arched back, her nails dug into my legs, and before I could move to bring her down again she launched forward as a powerful orgasm overtook her. “Oh!” she cried out, “Oh! Oh! Aaahhhhh!”

I quickly turned off the jet and wrapped myself around her as she shuddered through the orgasm. Then, adding back some hot water, I turned up the jet to a very gentle splashing, just enough pressure to wash warmth back into her centre. I held her as her breathing slowly eased. Again, I caressed her soft curves with lightly-tracing fingers and gentle kisses. After a couple of minutes she began to relax into my arms.

“Oh, wow!” she said, still breathing more deeply than normal, “that was a good one. I was about to…”

I snapped the water up to full blast again, and she shrieked before grinding herself down against the jet. She shrieked again as the warm water pummelled against her center. I returned to her nipples, flicking them ever-so-lightly with my fingers, and she stiffened further. She began moving her hips rapidly over the jet, her hands gripping my legs in a death grip, her now-hot back squirming against my now-stiff cock, her fragrant hair brushing its tip as she heaved her hips around and around. I bent down and kissed her on the side of her neck, pulled her head back and attacked her neck and throat with my tongue. She keened a high-pitched sound, once, twice, and then hurled herself forward with another cry as another powerful orgasm racked her soft, delicate body.

I turned off the water, pulled her quickly from her awkward seat, and held her tightly against me. I was overcome with love, kissing the tops of her heaving breasts, her neck, her ear, and finally her soft lips. She breathed heavily through her nose and I held the kiss, ever so soft, wet, loving, until her breathing began to calm and she began to relax so much that I was practically holding her up.

Then I did pick her up, and carried her to our bed.

I laid her out on her back. Her eyes were still closed, her breathing no longer heaving but still deep. I kissed slowly, deeply, around her eyelids, her neck and chest, her now-cool breasts, her flat stomach, her still-damp mons. She dropped a hand onto my arm, squeezing in silent gratitude, sighing deeply. Then I gently flicked my tongue onto her clitoris, but as I expected she groaned and closed her legs. She was done. I pulled the sheet up over her and got into bed, lying on my back beside her.

If she had just fallen asleep then, it would have been only a little disappointing. The intensity of the experience we had just shared had moved me too, and given me a sort of tantric pleasure that made my own orgasm non-essential.

But she didn’t fall asleep.

“Hmmmmmmmmm!” she sighed, “you are one creative guy. Do you think the inventor of the bidet had that in mind?!” She rolled onto her side and smiled at me with dancing eyes before she pulled herself into me, soft breasts and cool smooth thighs pressing against me all the way down my side, and began running barely-touching fingers over my body. She knew that most often less was more with me, angel touches and feather kisses better than firm strokes and gymnastic gyrations. She knew, and my cock rapidly rose again to meet her gentle ministrations. After rubbing and rolling against my squirming wife in the bathroom, it was already well-heated-up and ready for more.

She lifted herself on one elbow and stuck out her tongue, letting me watch it’s soft, pink wetness as she slowly lowered it to my nipple. When she began to flick with it, and simultaneously trace her fingers lightly behind my balls, I rolled my head back and groaned. She moved to the other nipple, and my hips rose from the bed as she wrapped her cool, dry hand around my cock and began lightly stroking it.

She kissed her way down my stomach, lightly-dancing kaçak bahis fingers glancing around my body and over my cock, and then kissed her way ever-so-slowly down my cock, tiny wet kisses, flicks of the tongue, each right beside the last, all the way down the underside of my cock and onto my balls and then back up again. She sucked the head gently into her hot mouth and swirled her tongue around on it for a moment, and then pressed her hot lips just under the corona and flicked firmly and rapidly with her soft tongue. As I gasped and strained towards her mouth, she pulled off, and began the slow, exquisite kissing down my cock again. She could tell that I was already well-primed, and was enjoying putting me at the edge. I wasn’t complaining! My breathing quickly became irregular as I alternately held my breath, then gasped for more, then held it again. I wanted more, I wanted it to end, I wanted.

I gently pulled her up to me. “I might be ready.” I said, breathing heavily.

She grinned at my little joke. “Oh, maybe. And you know what? I’m ready too.” She gave me a most tender look that melted me completely. If she wanted another orgasm, or fifty more, I would give them

to her. But that’s not what she meant.

Often at this point, she would pull me on top of her or swing herself on top of me. Her choice, I managed to enjoy it either way. But this time she leaned in for another long, tender kiss and then said, “Why don’t you stand up.”

As I climbed out of bed she sat on the edge and reached into the bedside table for the lube we sometimes needed. Cupping my balls softly in her cool hand, she laid a long, thick rope of cold lube all along the top of my stiff cock. It jerked upwards at the sensation. Then she laid another, and another, far more than usually needed. My cock raged to painful hardness as I realized what she was doing.

My beautiful, tender, giving wife! I leaned down to kiss her head and hold it to my chest.

She spread the lube thickly all around the full length of my cock, and carefully moved a generous amount of it up to the tip. Then she looked up at me, eyes full of love, and said, “Go slowly, OK?”

Rising, she turned and laid herself on her stomach across the bed, her wonderful, soft bum invitingly at the edge, and spread her legs wide, perching on her toes. The deep crevice of her bum curved into gentle moving lines, and the smooth globes firmed and softened sensuously, invitingly, as she settled into position. I stepped forward and laid my cock into the length of her warm cleft, leaned forward into her softness, and kissed around her back and shoulders. “Thank you, my love,” I said. “Thank you.”

“I love you,” she said, and squeezed her bum cheeks against the length of my rock-hard cock.

I rocked forward and back a few times, lubing the crease of her bum with my very well-lubed cock. Each time I rocked forward, she pressed back and squeezed. I knew I wasn’t going to survive that for much longer, the velvety softness and the firm warmth were enough, the tender giving of my wife more than enough to push me over the edge.

I pulled back, and with the tip of a finger I gently worked the lube into the opening of her tiny hole while I ran my other hand softly over her sensuous curves. Then I laid my cockhead against her little flower and slowly, slowly eased forward.

The heat was the first thing I noticed, silky hot pressure as my cockhead slipped about an inch between the soft globes of her bum and into her tiny passage. I stopped, as much to prevent my release as to give her a chance to get used to the first invasion of her tender back passage. As I waited and danced my fingers over her curves she said, “I’m OK. Are you OK?!”

I chuckled. She knew I was better than OK. “My love, you have no idea.” I eased forward a little more and felt the pressure ease suddenly, but the silky-smooth heat intensified as I sank more than two inches into her glove-like softness. “Oh boy, it feels so big,” she said. Then, “You like hearing that, don’t you?!”

I chuckled again, and leaned forward, exquisitely slowly, sinking in until, moments later, I felt her heat against the very base of my cock, felt her wet pussy open against my balls and her soft bum cheeks press into the bottom of my stomach. I had never, ever, felt so hard, so aroused. I watched her carefully, and noted that she was gripping the sheets a little, but when I bottomed-out and bent to kiss her back and neck, she reached back and patted my hip. “You did it, big guy!” And then, “It’s not so bad!”

It was incredible, everything I’d ever fantasized about. The intense heat, the velvety pressure all along my cock that was both firm and soft at the same time, the softness of her curves brushing me and pressing into me, the smooth expanse of her delicate back with her soft hair and neck stretched out in front of me, giving herself to me… it couldn’t get any better than this.

And then she squeezed her bum against me. It was like a jolt of electricity, and I don’t know why I didn’t go off immediately. I sucked in my breath. “Ohhhh god!” I gasped. “Don’t do that again, OK? In case you never offer me this again, I want it to last!”

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