Tarnished

Teen (18+)

Jen called me from work, late in the afternoon and ostensibly just to say hi, but I could detect something in her voice. An unspoken weariness.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah… just tired. Tired of all this. But I’m fine.” Then she changed the subject and started to ask about my day.

“Are you ok? I felt I had to ask again, to push a little more for the truth.

“It feels, oh, I don’t know, all of this is starting to stick to me. I’m starting to feel somehow… tarnished.” She didn’t elaborate. She didn’t have to. I knew a little about the pressure she was under. The things she couldn’t say. Things that were stealing her air, her vibrancy.

“Come over. I don’t have plans. We can get some food, watch a movie?”

I heard the sigh that escaped her lips before she could suppress it. “No, I won’t be good company, I’m just going to head home, take a bath and get an early night.”

The light tremor in her voice both concerned and prompted me to press her. I didn’t like to hear her that way, and I nudged her again. “Look, I don’t need scintillating company. And you can take a bath here. I’ll cook. Really… Don’t be alone, J.”

She looked so stressed, fragile almost as she stood at the door. Her beauty could still take my breath away, it was always there, but something was dragging her down and I couldn’t bear to see that heaviness on her. I moved to hug her, intending just a quick hug between friends, but as my arms wrapped loosely around her, instead of a light reciprocating squeeze, she leaned into me and instinctively I held her tighter, my body molding to hers, my face buried for a moment in the soft red waves of her hair. Its fragrance caught me unawares. Soft florals, fresh, distracting. And the way in which she clung to me for that moment made my knees weak.

“Oh baby, you have had a bad day.” I heard the slight quaver in my voice as I pulled myself reluctantly from the embrace. My arms slipped from around her, one hand taking a loose hold of hers, our fingers entwining as I tugged her in from the doorway where we still stood. “Let me run you a bath, hon. I’ll get dinner ready while you soak.”

This was a role reversal and I found myself canlı bahis şirketaleri reveling in it. Jen was the strong stable one. She usually looked after me while I mostly felt as though I was always whining about the silly minor things that got me down. The fact that she would come here and allow me to look after her was overwhelming. Capable J. Always appearing so strong. I really did feel somehow honored that she would come to me like this and allow me to pamper her for a change. I poured her a glass of wine and left her curled up on the couch as I went to run the bath. A quick search through the bathroom cabinets unearthed some bath oils kept for special occasions, and as I drizzled them under the hot running water the bath began to fill with bubbles, and the scent of vanilla, orange, and heady spices instantly pervaded the room. I lit several candles and set them on the counter, their flickering flames making everything seem to sway a little in their yellow-gold warmth.

“It’s ready…” I called, and as she came into the bathroom I moved to pass her, “I’ll go get us some food.”

“Stay.” She blocked my path, eyes meeting mine, her lips curved into a soft smile.

Time slowed until I opened my mouth to express the many reasons why I had to go to prepare dinner, but whatever words I had planned to say never quite made it passed my lips.

“Stay.” Repeated. This time more quietly. An unmistakable pleading. I think my heart stopped. “Stay and talk to me.”

I must have murmured some reply as I averted my eyes. Always so shy. I envied her confidence, her lack of inhibitions. She often joked about how terribly repressed I was. I busied myself as she slipped so quickly, with such grace from the clothes that suddenly became a heap of fabric at her feet. I focused there on the pile of clothes rather than on her, utterly lost for a minute or more in my confused embarrassment, the sound of the slow still-running water almost as loud as the pounding of blood in my ears. I distracted myself by opening the cabinets again, searching for towels, anything. I heard rather than saw her body slip into the warm water, the gentle splashing as she slid down, canlı kaçak iddaa submerging herself beneath the bubbles. As if from outside myself I heard my own voice. I was talking about nothing. Nonsense. Anything to fill the air. Unable to occupy myself in the cabinet any longer I set the towels on the counter and turned back toward her.

I leaned across, to turn off the still-flowing faucet, forced finally to acknowledge the fact that she was now naked in my bath, leaning back, her legs slightly pulled up towards her chest. I tried, tried so hard to sound normal. To sound as if my feet were on the ground. To act as if mind was on something other than this incredible vision.

“Tell me about your day.” At last I managed something coherent. But when I glanced up at her face I saw she was smiling at me, with a distinctly amused shake of her head. She reached up to the shelf to take hold of the large natural sponge.

“Catch!” It caught me off guard. But somehow I managed to catch the sponge in one outstretched hand. Her green eyes now betrayed more than a hint of mischief. She knew me well enough to know exactly what was happening inside me, and just the thought of that brought a hot flush to flood my cheeks. I managed a small smile back and tried to control my ragged breathing. She leaned forward a little, lifting her hair from her neck to drape it over her shoulder, turning slightly, her eyes making a brief detour from mine–over her shoulder and back again to give me silent direction. Hesitating for the barest moment I slipped down to my knees at the side of the bath, reaching down to submerge the sponge in the warm fragrant water before raising it to the nape of her neck and then squeezing it gently. Slowly. A thousand scented bubbles, the water ahead of them forming rivulets that flowed down the valley of her spine. She shivered. I thought I heard her breath catch in her throat, and when I tore my eyes from the droplets that glimmered in the candlelight on her skin, I saw that hers were closed. I filled the sponge again, this time pressing it to the top of her spine, dragging it slowly down with light pressure over that perfect curve, watching her canlı kaçak bahis shoulders lift and hearing a soft sigh which of course made me do it again.

I was mesmerized by the cascade of water that flooded over her pale skin, and almost independent of my control, the sponge moved in slow caresses over every inch of her back and shoulders, filled anew with warm scented water at each pass. Not a word spoken. I could feel the tension washing away. The relaxation tangible. The constriction of her soul loosening. She sat up slowly, straightening her back, and I moved the sponge up to her shoulder, resting it there for a moment before squeezing it again, watching the water now rush over the swell of her breasts, my eyes hardly daring to follow its path downwards. The sponge fell from my trembling fingers into the water, and as I reached for it she turned her head and our lips brushed in the lightest of kisses. It was the softness that undid me. Soft like silk. Soft like petals. My eyes closed, and it was a while before I realized that the series of breathless moans I heard had come from my own lips still pressed to hers.

She moved slowly but deliberately to take hold of my wrist, her hand pulling mine underneath the water, the back of my fingers brushing against the satin skin of her inner thigh for a second before my fingertips were drawn closer to touch at the apex of those thighs, now parted, her knees pressed to the edges of the bath. I drew back oh-so-slowly from that kiss and forgot to breathe again, almost gasping for air as my fingers explored with inexperienced eagerness within the soft folds of flesh. Gently probing, fingers curling, thumb pressing, circling.

I watched as her head rolled back just a little on her shoulders, her eyelids heavy, finally closing. Gazed in awe as she drew her lower lip in between her teeth. Sighed with her as the gentle rocking of her hips against my fingers became more insistent. Gasped quietly as she began to tremble, both of her hands clutching at my wrist, finally pulling my hand away, lifting and placing it over her heart. Felt her pulse race and pound with mine until slowly we could breathe again.

Later as she rested back against me and I gently towel-dried her hair, I was certain I could see a brighter gleam in her green eyes. The return of the soft luminescence to her skin. I like to think that I had made her shine again. Maybe it was just the candlelight.

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