I pulled off my T-shirt and stepped inside the bath. Maria was already sitting in the tub with her slender legs spread out luxuriously. For a moment, I admired her grace from far. Then, as if by invitation, I lifted my sodden jeans, crossed over and got into the tub. Maria threw me a glance. It was one of those enigmatic looks for which I never seem to have an answer. I discerned a small curve in her lips, though I could not be sure if that was a smile.
The water felt warm. Or perhaps it was her skin. She inched closer. I peeled off her socks and undid her yellow top. It came off easily and she shuddered in the cold. I wanted to soap her but she wouldn't let me, at least not so early. I looked into her eyes. She looked into mine. I ran my fingers on the nape of her neck. She moaned in delicious pain.
Sensing an opportunity, I poured warm water over her back. She quivered but relented.
My jeans felt heavy, now drenched in water. She dug her nails into my arms, responding to her natural instincts. Her skin felt soft against mine. Despite her killer charm, she was a lady of grace.
I picked the soap and gingerly rubbed it over her breast. She moaned, protested and loathed the sensation. But finally surrendered with a soft purr.