Chetana lay facedown on her bed while Philip washed her. He’d sponged all of her body but now he seemed to be concentrating soapily on her ass and upper thighs. Chetana expected he wasn’t going to shift his attention, or his hands. The cabin rocked gently under them. She knew the ship had left the Laccadive Sea, and was sailing into the Arabian Sea.
His fingers, surprisingly strong, pushed into the muscles of her ass. She felt him find and work on the remaining knots of tension, a process that both hurt her and satisfied. She was aware of another feeling, something luxurious that she hadn’t felt in about two years.
It was that she was relaxed, and her mind was in the sensual world, free of things to do or think about.
At last he smacked the inside of her left thigh, then her right, and repeated until she understood and moved her feet apart, open for him. But he continued to knead the muscles of her ass, and only slowly worked his way down to the backs of her thighs.
At last she sighed, and said, “ah fuck, that’s good. Where’d you learn all that?”
But Philip only smacked her bottom, her skin and muscles gloriously relaxed, when a couple of hours ago she had been so tense it hurt. His smack didn’t hurt. She hoped he’d do it again. Most of her male lovers were too deferential for that sort of thing. He said, “You don’t have to talk, my love.”
His finger slid down the multiply creased, sensitive skin of her perineum, from just below her rectum to stop, frustratingly, just above her cunt. He was teasing her. Then he smacked her bottom again and she said, involuntarily, “ooh!” That felt so welcome, so right.
“But you do have to get your ass up.” The hand pressed onto her bottom lifted, and she expected to land again. But it didn’t arrive. She wriggled a little, and parted her thighs further, then lifted her bottom, in the most abjectly invitational pose she could manage. He said, “Perfect.”
She could hear in his voice that he was smiling at her. Then his hand did land, a slightly harder smack. It seemed to awaken her skin. She felt goosebumps forming, suddenly.
Then the fingers between her buttocks dropped a little and touched her cunt for the first time. Chetana opened her mouth, half from the joy of it and half to suck in a lungful of air. He stroked her lips, still only touching the outer sides of her outer lips. He said “Good girl.”
He stroked her, still slowly and lightly, and at last – at last! – touched her inner wetness with his forefinger. Then he pushed further into her. Chetana said – her voice sounded so high! – “You better fuck me soon. I think I’m going to come any moment.”
She wasn’t surprised when he smacked her again. And then again.
After the third smack, he said, “I don’t care when you come. Or how often. Up to you.”
He put a second finger into her, and reached deep. Chetana groaned.