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(Coming Clean, continued...)

You try to leave a sexy pause, trying to figure out exactly what that means, and then you open up the door. You are surprised to find George staring back at you.

Shocked, you wrap the robe tight around you. He doesn’t know what to say either.

What the hell is George doing here? You didn’t expect him to be using an escort service nor to have a fetish. So George is Angeline’s regular?

“What are you doing here?” you both ask at once.

“I was looking for Angeline,” he says, almost stuttering. “I’d better go.” He looks apologetic, averting his eyes, but not before taking in a good look at your figure as your robe falls open.

His mouth opens and he licks his lips.

Angeline was right though. He is gorgeous, and you’ve always thought so yourself. You take a good look at his sexy build and his familiar features, but you’re seeing them now in a new light.

You’re deliberately slow to cover yourself up. When you do so, it’s more of a sensuous brushing of fabric over your thigh and waist than anything else. He can’t help imagining touching you, because you’re imagining him touching you.

“I was expecting you,” you say. “I mean, not you, but…” You pout and say in your sexiest voice, “I’ve run you a hot bath.”


“Yes, why not me?”

You let your robe fall open some more. He gets a flash of tit and thigh.

Your melting honey voice must have done the trick — although revealing some flesh didn’t hurt — because George steps inside.

You stand awkwardly, while you ask him if he wants a drink before you get started. He looks pained.

“I need you to tell me what to do,” he admits.

“Oh. Like, take your coat off, you dirty boy?”

“Yes, mistress,” he says and removes the coat.

“Put it on the hook.”

“Yes, mistress.”

You tell him to undress, item by item, enjoying the power you’re able to exert over him. Item by item, he bares his body. Ultimately, you are relatively dressed while he stands before you in only his shorts. He doesn’t have a bad body; he’s built pretty much the way you had thought he would be. You have to admit that you’ve thought seeing him naked more than once.

Eying his bulging shorts, you see that he is packing quite a punch in there.

“Are you cold?” you ask. You can feel your nipples hardening.

“No, mistress,” he says.

Despite what Angeline said, you wonder if you might get to fondle his cock and balls before all this is over. You don’t want to fuck, but this is working out nicely so far.

You lead George into the steamy bathroom, which is very large and clean, with shiny surfaces reflecting the warm light. The porcelain tub is full of foamy water.

“Take your shorts off,” you say and George obeys you, tugging the material over his erect cock and then kicking his shorts across the floor. “Don’t just point that thing at me,” you say, half-mesmerized. “Get in the tub.”

“Angeline wears perfume,” he whispers, before climbing in.

You watch his balls swinging and his sexyass as he climbs into the water.

You spray yourself with scent from the bathroom shelf.

George shuts his eyes, delirious.

“You can keep your eyes closed or you can open them,” you tell him as you open up your robe some more and stroke a breast. “I’m going to wash you now.”

You dip the dry, white flannel into the suds and then remove it dripping wet.

“Yes,” George murmurs, as though the two of you were actually having sex. “Yes. Yes.”

You tease him with the sound of the water and a few exploratory splashes, before you touch the warm, soft, wet material against his neck. He shudders. Seeing his arousal turns you on too.

You can’t believe this is really happening with George. Not only does it make this whole thing seem strange, but it makes it so much sexier than if it were happening with a total stranger. The fact is that you and he have connected before, but never like this and nothing between you is ever going to be the same again. It will be your powerful, intimate secret.

You push the wet flannel down along his sternum, squeezing so that soapy water washes over his chest and he groans. Arching his back, there is a squeak of porcelain against his wet skin.

He occasionally opens one eye to steal glances at you as you clean him. He clearly appreciates it when you lean over the side of the bath to drench the flannel and he sees your tits bulging within Angeline’s blue brassiere.

As a special treat for being so good, you sit behind him and press your brassiere-clad breasts against his back. He shivers and sighs, leaning back into you, feeling your softness against his firm back and the lace scratching against his spine.

“Beautiful,” George says.

“I’ve not finished,” you say.

You’re not going to fuck him and what’s more, Angeline doesn’t want you to. He has very specific requests. But there is one more thing that you can’t resist.

“What are you doing?” he asks, getting agitated.

“Every other part of you is clean,” you say, using the flannel to massage his cock and balls. “I have to do it for you.”

You’re tugging at his prickgently, but consistently. His body starts off tense, but then relaxes, only to become tense again as he strains on the edge of his orgasm at your hands.

It’s taking him a while to get there. Your arm starts to get sore, but you’re motivated by the pleasure on his face — a release that neither of you were expecting, but that both of you have come to need.

He exhales hard and then groans and you’ve done it, you’ve made him cum, and his seed is dribbling over your hand. You keep on cleaning him, more gently now. The flannel ends up loose in the water at some point. You feel the ridges of his shaft under your fingers.

“There you are,” you say. His cum floats in the water and is still being expelled from the tip of his cock. “Now you’ve got yourself all dirty again. I’m going to have to start over.”