Sex Tub Time (Christian Masturbation)

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“Honey, the store closes in like 10 minutes. Do you want to return the DVDs, or should I do it?” my wife said from the bedroom, as I finished washing the dishes from dinner.

“I got it! I’m dressed,” I answered, with a laugh. Dressed meant I had on slippers.

My favor from the Lord walked in carrying the cases for the three romantic comedies we’d rented from the small video store we passed on our way to the cabin. “Here ya go,” she said, laying them on the counter by the door. I was drying the last cup. “Don’t take too long,” she said, as she hugged me from behind. I could feel her cool, perky nipples on my back. “Might want to put some clothes on. And change your shoes.”

As I pulled back into the driveway, I noticed that the lights in the den and bedroom were off. In the darkness of the front porch, I slipped off my shoes and took off my sweatpants and sweatshirt. Being naked outside was something my super-conservative self had never done. I smiled as I felt a drop of pre-cum hit my toe.

I opened the door and put my clothes and the car keys on the small kitchen counter. The light from the digital clock let me see that the door to the bedroom was open. As I walked toward the bedroom, I could smell the chlorine from the hot tub on the screened-in porch. A small tea light flickered at the edge of the hot tub. A relaxed “Everything go OK?” drifted faintly over the bubbling.

“Yep. No problems.” I stepped out onto the porch.

Giggling, my wife asked, “Did you at least make it back inside the house before your clothes fell off?”

“Nope. Caught a snag on the porch. Dang thing stripped me naked.” I sat on the edge of the hot tub, with my feet in the bubbling water. My wife closed her eyes and lay in the hot tub with only her head sticking out. She let out a contented sigh. Our favorite vibrator was sitting on the side of the tub, right where I’d left it that morning. I picked it up and asked, “Want me to pick up where we left off this morning?”

“Not yet. Why don’t you get in and relax?”

I slid into the hot tub, letting the bubbles tickle all the right places. “Wow, these bubbles feel good!” I laughed.

“You need to find a jet, then,” my wife whispered enticingly.

“Oh yeah?”

“Take my pussy’s word for it. There are some good jets in here.”

“Not that I don’t trust you, but I think I’ll need to hear it directly from your pussy,” I said with a grin.

“She’s busy doing a quality control check on a jet over here.  You’ll have to ask her later.”

While we’d talked about mutual masturbation before, our conservative upbringing kept us from sharing the experience. So the idea of her exploring had me throbbing. “Are you trying to work your way to an orgasm?”

“Nope.”

“What?”

“No, I’m not trying. I’ve already had two while you were gone,” she gasped, heading toward a third. After she had peaked, she sat up, positioning herself across the tub from me. Her nipples were just above the water, dancing on the waves. I felt her foot under my sack.

“Your turn,” she said, eyes still closed. We sat still for a few minutes under the hypnosis of the hot tub, as her toes explored my erection. She pulled her leg back as she moved toward me, putting her hand where her foot had been. “Lay back.” Still in the water, she straddled me, sliding her wet pussy down my erection before beginning to pump my dick with her hand. Within seconds, I exploded. She leaned forward, laying her head on my shoulder. We held each other in that position until the automatic timer turned off the jets.

sex, tub time, masturbation

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