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3-Day Stand Part IV

Ruby and Ron clean up
“Since you didn’t lick it all off,” he says to the ceiling, “I guess I’ll have to take a shower. Want to join me”?

Ruby’s bright blue eyes, rimmed by glaring white, peer from her blackened, mousse-encrusted face. “I could try again,” she offers.

Rolling to his left in the sticky mess of sheets they’ve made, Ron cracks a big smile across his multi-colored, chocolate sprinkle freckled face. “Then you’d get fat, my love.” And, as if to emphasize his point, he dips his head to her turgid right nipple to lap off one remaining dollop of marshmallow fluff.

She giggles, one hand grasping her breast to feed it to him and the other delving into her belly button to see if any Lemoncello has puddled there. Finding only a drop, which she licks from her finger tip, she rolls to her right to face him, mousse crackling like mud in a dry river bed. Rolling peels her skin off the bed like a bandage from a hairy arm.

“I wouldn’t mind getting a little fatter for you,” she says, “you seem to like big women.”

“Oh, I most certainly do,” he smiles, “but I like you just the way you are! And, besides, I wouldn’t want to listen to you whine about how fat you are when you’re not with me, which is most of the time, unfortunately.”

“Won’t do any good, ya know,” Ruby chides.

“What won’t do any good,” Ron asks, pinching an inch on her belly, “giving you a compliment”?

She slaps his hand away, beams and jumps on his mouth with her own. Her tongue lashes deep inside him and her lips grind over his teeth. He moans and rolls over on his back and she crawls along to keep their mouths locked together. Gasping for breath, she breaks away.

In just a short second or two, she is flat on her back howling with laughter. Her hands slap and clench the sticky sheets, her legs rock back and forth, and her baby soft belly heaves in and out with each gasping chuckle.

“What’s so funny, Ruby, huh” he questions, blindly reaching out his left hand to see if he can find and tweak a little piece of her.

“You... you...,” and another peal of laughter convulses her.

“Me,” he consternates, “what about me”?

“You gotta go look at yourself in the mirror, honey,” she manages to gasp. “I wish I had my camera”!
He rolls to his right out of bed. If she hadn’t been lying on them, he would easily have torn a sheet off stuck to his ass. He pads off to the bathroom, Ruby in close pursuit.

As soon as he flicks on the light they both start howling and pointing at each other in the mirror. To say they’re a mess would be unkind. They are abstract works of art. Each is randomly decorated in splotches and smears ranging in hue from white to dark brown and all the tans in between. Here and there, yellow, green, blue, red, white and, well, if you can see them, black specks of chocolate decorate the icing as they should.

But it’s their faces that are the most precious. Teeth and eyes give a depth to the mess they’ve made out of themselves, particularly with that last round of tonsil tickling. Their features are obliterated in swirls of what, chocolate fluff or is it marshmallow mousse? Sprinkles hand from eyelashes and out of noses. Ears and hair have an odd iridescence from the patina of Lemoncello. They are, almost, each other’s mirror, now in body as well as soul.

“I guess that shower you suggested is definitely in order,” Ruby concurs. “Want to do a bath with some toys - you did say they’re waterproof, right”?

“Sweetie, how can we take a bath? We’ll be soaking in our own filth,” he chides. “No, we’ll have to hope that a shower works on this stuff and that it goes down the drain instead of leaving scum in the tub.”

“Party pooper,” she pouts, slapping him on his sticky ass.

He reaches into his toiletry kit for a toothbrush thinking it'll be good to have at least one part of him clean and comes up with three. He's forgotten which one is for his teeth and which ones are for other bodily orifices and turns toward Ruby just as she's bending over the tub to turn on the water. As her ample breasts droop toward the floor, the vertical smile of her vagina peers out from between her succulent thighs. Fingering the toothbrushes lewdly, he shakes off the notion of probing her yet again and turns his attention to figuring out which one goes in his mouth and not her cunt.

"Do you want the water hot or warm," Ruby casts over her shoulder, testing the temperature on her wrist like she used to as a mother warming milk.

"I say warm," he gurgles from the minty suds in his mouth. "If we can't get it hot, then we'll turn it up," he continues to her tiny giggle echoing around the tub.

Finished with his dental care he rinses and turns toward the tub in time to see Ruby pull the valve to shower down the spray. He steps gingerly into the tub, dark brown water already swirling down the drain, and, together they pull the curtain closed. He wishes they had a European bath where the whole bathroom is the tub and there wouldn't be a need for the curtain which, for the time being, flaps and clings to their wet and sticky bodies.

Showers are wonderful. Well, taking one is always wonderful and many, but not all showers are wonderful. This one meets the grade with a large shower head, good water pressure and it's high enough up that he doesn't have to stoop, at least not for the water.

Ruby is shorter than he is by a good six inches and he loves it. In bed it never matters, but here he loves to be able to cuddle her head against his chest and bend just slightly to kiss it.

And he loves to see her wet. The warm water courses over her head matting her red hair into long straight strands that, thank god, she will not have to dry and style since there's no chance in hell they'll be leaving the room any time soon. It dribbles down her brow into her eyelashes which bat shyly as she looks up at him. It runs in rivulets into the corners of her mouth and off her chin onto her breasts.

He clasps her to him, one hand on her head sheltering her from the stream and the other around her soft back. She too grasps him, one hand on the small of his back, the other on his left buttock, and gently grinds herself against him as if he were the wash rag to get her clean.

Getting clean is an after thought now that they have each others bodies. Their hands and arms swirl around torsos to feel the folds and ridges, warming to the touch. Brown water with white and yellow sprinkles runs down their legs into the tub. Every now and then, the toes of her right foot curl atop his as if to hold him down or to help her stand taller.

She twists him like a dancer so that he is now under the spray full force and she can hide from it beneath the shelter of his chin. Her lips are pressed against his chest and she sips him, gurgling, gargling, sputtering and spitting as the cascade courses down his breastbone into her mouth. She drinks in fully, tilts her face up, tapping his cheek until he looks down into her glistening blue eyes, and then spews a steady stream at his face, chortling as she gently pushes back from him to grab a bar of soap.

Ah, soap. It's not any old soap - who wants to eat Ivory or Dove. No, they have the requisite bars of Dr. Bronner's herbal soaps in flavors, mind you, flavors, of almond or peppermint or citrus orange. Oh, they do the job of cleaning alright - teeth and clothes as well - but they smell great and taste almost as good. Ruby chooses citrus.

Ron turns the shower stream down a bit and then leans forward to grab the almond bar. He turns sideways so that they stand face to face away from the sputtering shower head and they begin to lather one another.

It starts with an embrace so that, together, they can both wash each other's backs. It's an odd way to perform a massage, but that's what it feels like. The edges and corners of the bar are dug gently into muscles while the other hand swooshes behind to sooth and smear. She has to reach high to get his shoulders and he stoops now and then to reach the small of her back.

The sides of their bodies bring special joy. It's not only that they terminate in slightly ticklish armpits, but the textures change from the softness of their waists to the swell of more boney chests and then on to what Ruby calls the "turkey cutlet" where the chest meets the armpit. Oh, there's no mistaking from the cutlet which of the two has breasts!

And, so, then it's on to the chest and tummy. This gets complicated with four hands and arms all working in the same space, but after years together they've figured it out. You can, in fact, like a blender, run swirls of hands in circles and they do not collide. He, of course, has extra work to do, she only needing to clean his flat chest.

"It's funny," he thinks, bending to mouth her brown nipple poking out of the white suds he's pile there; "I can suck soap from her breasts far more easily than baby oil," something he's loath to apply to her juggs when they make love. She coos, hunching her pelvis toward him and vainly trying to pinch his slickened breast.

He stoops to his left and places his bar of soap on the tub ledge in the corner. They've gotten a little chilled, so he turns the shower stream back up to full and turns the hot water on a little higher to make it extra warm. They both murmur, "Aaaaaah," as the water splatters down on their heads and sheets across their sudsy bodies. He folds her into him again, kisses the top of her head and says, "I love you, Ruby." He feels her squeeze him and hears "Auuuuch."

It's a good thing it's 2 a.m. They should have the hotel's whole boiler all to themselves and they indulge, writhing against one another, hands pretending to rinse away the soap. The warm water pinks their skin and every now and then they stop to tilt their faces toward each other and kiss, lips slipping back and forth as tongues dart in and out.

Ron turns her into the stream of water and then sinks to his knees, his left hand scrabbling for her right and taking from it the citrus orange bar of soap. She tilts back her head, her fullsome breasts arching outward, and tilts her dark red hair under the stream, running her fingers through it like a ten bristle comb. She sputters a bit as the water splashes into her upturned face, but then leans forward and puts both hands on his shoulders.

"That's good," he muses, "she's going to need to hold onto something."

Sheltered from the tumult of water beneath her stooped back, he rubs the bar of soap in both hands to build up the lather. He crawls slightly forward and reaches around behind her to wash her buttocks. She straightens a tiny bit and shuffles toward him so that she is now in his embrace, his left ear pressed into her soft belly and both of his hands swirling around her cheeks.

It dawns on him that, really, it's only in the shower when he has this access to her ass. Oh, sure, even in bed he can caress her or kiss it, but it's rare that he can use his whole arm, from bicep to hand, to feel the curves and give of her butt. Even when she lies on top of him, stabbing him with her tongue, the best he can manage is two hands and wrists roaming across her rear. But here, now, in the shower, he can cup each cheek at its base, push upwards like squeezing toothpaste out of a tube, and then feel her flesh relax back as it meets his forearm then the inside of his elbow and, finally, the bulge of his upper arm.

He moans, even as she does, both determined to indulge in this rare sensation.

Even in bed, though, with Ruby on top, one of his favorite maneuvers is to run fingers down her spine and into the cleft of her ass. He loves the transition from the ripple bones of her spine to the smoothness of her waist and then the close, clutching comfort of the ridge between her cheeks. Sometimes he uses two hands and then, when he reaches her rear, he can pull apart her buttocks even as his fingers dip deeper into their furrow. Kneeling as he is, he can reach high up on her back and trace this course all the way down past her ass and curl around into her inner thigh.

It's when he brings his hands back up, however, that he encounters what he loves most - the slick, slippery and steamy folds of her pussy. She is not fooled that he is still washing her!

With each pass of his hands, he digs a little deeper to graze her anus and the dribbling lips beneath it. She spreads her legs a bit and inches forward so that his knees are now between and behind her legs. The hands on his shoulders move inward grasping the back and side of his head and turning it so that his nose grazes her clit. She then tilts his head back and pushes it down, tucking his nose into her wet vagina. Just as he moans to breathe, she moans to welcome and encourage.

The bar of soap is dropped and clatters to the bottom of the tub, skittering toward the drain. He pulls his right arm back and shoots it between his right side and her left leg all the while lifting his left arm up and under her right arm until he can grasp a wagging breast. His thumb curls up into her cunt and two soap-slicked fingers waggle into her ass. She does a bump and grind just to seat him firmly and growls, "Fuck me, honey, just like you do."

Never one to argue with a lady, he pulls her toward him, turns his head slightly and begins to lash her clit with his tongue and nibble at her lips. His thumb burrows deep and swirls around the nub of her cervix. He pinches her rythmically between all three fingers, now and then probing deeply into her ass and then pulling out almost to separation only to plunge back in.

"Yes, soap is good," he exults to himself, pounding and squirming into her even as he nuzzles and licks. He pulls at her breast as if trying to bring it to her lips.

The water still pours down, masking the gutteral moans that begin deep in her groin. They ebb and flow with the chaos in the drain. Her hands clench his shoulders, nails digging into the skin and raking forward. Every now and then she bounces; her tits momentarily weightless ride high and her sliming holes jam themselves on him insatiable.

It was 2 a.m., but not anymore. He's glad for the shower curtain now that muffles the gasps and bellows coming from her throat. Her legs begin to tremble and, reluctantly, he releases her breast to clasp her to him by her ass. The trembling becomes a quake as he pulls all three fingers out half way and thens begins to whisk her; beating her into a froth like hot milk.

He pulls his face away, licking his lips, to watch. She goes crazy and, even though it's risky, looses her right hand from his shoulder and begins to pummel her clit.

Nah, he never wants to be blind. He’d rather be deaf. In fact, he thinks the world would be a far better place if females were born blind and with no sense of smell and men were born deaf. Genetic detante!

But, for the time being, he’s not unhappy to hear. Ruby slaps and pummels her pussy as the water plows down on them. He can hear his fingers slosh inside her as she grunts with every thrust and yelps with every stir. Ooooooh, he’s on to …. hmmmm, into her now and he alternates the thrusting and wagging.

Every now and then he just stops.

Think about that. Feel that.

It’s hard to describe, but this woman is one single object with mind connected to body, body connected to water, water swirling around feet, fingers swirling within and, what, it just fucking stops - “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME,” she screams, tearing at her pubic hair and lips.

He chuckles, having once played the violin, and pops her one deep. Nope, there’s no screech, no bellow, no utterance at all.

She lets his fingers propel her, not only skyward, but inward. She loves that he heard her. She loves him, but, right now, right now, that’s not the point. There are four points. Two in her ass, one in her cunt, and one on her clit. It’s a silly image, but a supernovae, a certain type of supernovae, occurs when it collapses everywhere simultaneously with the same speed and density.

Ruby supernovaes and, the light that would come from a collapsing star, becomes her shriek as she cums and pumps, even tries to twist against his pinching embedded fingers. He is laughing with her and ever more glad for the plastic curtains that cling to their bodies and muffle her screams.

There’s always, always, this tenuous moment in sex, when it’s not clear whether you wiggle one more time or let the other simply feel and tail off into satisfaction. It can be tried, over time, with a large sample, statistically, so to speak, but, in any given situation, it’s never clear whether, one more time, you wiggle your finger in her cunt, wait, touch her clit, wait, slowly pull out of her anus. Or, should you do the reverse.

It’s NOT an art. It’s a risk. Decide. Go for it. Hear and feel what you do. Wiggle or don’t.

But there can be choices, right. Fingers in ass wriggled are NOT thumb on cervix. Thumb is not tongue on clit. Wriggling and rubbing are WAY different things. Pulling slowly and plunging deeply are, hmmm, not even in the same league.

As a kid he loved Star Trek. Oh, those were back in the days when, actually, it was black and white as nothing has been since. He loved the adventure and the fantasy. He loved the characters, sometimes one more than the other.

But he remembers, and has tried to live, that, to achieve the goal, you don’t always have to play by the rules. Oh, sure, you might get punished, but the people who punish you have to decide whether they prefer someone slavish to the rules or someone who rules.

Even as she quivers, now on the balls of her feet, he lets her ass go with his left hand. Unconstrained, she thrashes wilder but soon reaches an equilibrium that’s sustainable given she only has one hand on his shoulder and one in her cunt. Oh, sure, he still has three fingers buried deeply inside her, but, given where they are, act more like a fulcrum around which she can thrash.

The gasp that escapes her mouth riffles the curtains. She freezes. Only the water moves.

Well, and the tip of his left forefinger on her right nipple.

He is so laughing with the joy that he has brought her and she is so, so, hmmm, just

The water swirls over her back and down the drain, no longer brown. She collapses onto his knees and he knows well enough by now to pull his fingers out of her before she breaks them off. She clasps him like a hyena on a carcass and he chuckles through her lips.

“I LOVE YOU,” she screams, “GOD HOW I LOVE YOU”!

Their kiss sucks the breath out of both of them and the water washes it away along with tears of joy and groans of longing. They hug like lovers on the Titanic - doomed, but grabbing every minute of life together while they can.

“Ruby,” he burbles through the splattering shower, “I really need to get up. These old knees can’t handle being in one position for too long.”

“Sooooireeee,” she screeches, and uncoils her younger body and then stands. She stoops to give him a hand. With one hand on her right arm and the other on the side of the tub, he raises himself up onto his knees and just holds there waiting for the feeling to return. He kicks his left foot forward and raises himself to stand, tentatively letting go of the bathtub rim, but not Ruby. He’s a bit unsteady and she clasps him to her, burrowing her face in his chest and kissing it with abandon. He wraps both arms around her and raises his face to the cascading water.

He hears a murmur. “What,” he asks, the water pounding round his ears?

Ruby raises her eyes to his as he looks down and chirps “Your turn”!

“Pfffpht,” he spits, disbelieving that she still wants to play! “Ruby, I’m an old man. You gotta let me rest, or we’ll never make it for the next, what, fifty or sixty hours”!

“I’ll 'old man' you," she smiles, spinning around to his left and pushing him up against the wall! She pats him on his ass, like she does her dog, as if to say, “Stay”!

She grabs the bar of soap and lathers up her hands. Since he’s leaned into the wall beneath the shower, the water courses down his back leaving him high and dry on his front. Ruby leans into him and reaches her right hand around to soap his balls and cock. Her left hand sneaks down between his buttocks and she works her soapy middle finger into his ass even as she begins to stroke him.

“Mmmmmmm,” he moans, letting her wriggling finger push it out of him. “Deeper, please.”

Ruby spreads her legs a bit which gives her a little more stability and lets her shrink down a tad so that she can more easily push up between his buttocks. She gains a half inch, but he wants more, so he arches his ass toward her, urging her to push.

But she is six inches shorter than he is and she’s buried to the hilt.

All of a sudden, she pops her finger out of his ass, throws open the shower curtain, steps out of the tub and races for the sink. She dives her right hand into his toilet kit and emerges with the two toothbrushes he had decided were not for his teeth. At the last minute she scoops the small bottle of baby oil off the counter and then makes haste back to the tub, water splattering all over the bathroom floor, and tears the curtain back into place.

“Why do I feel like a prisoner who’s about to get reamed,” he murmurs. Taking her cue, Ruby kicks his left leg gently and commands, “Spread ‘em”!

She pushes the baby oil bottle into his hand saying, "You might need this, the soap isn't going to last forever." He pops the top and liberally greases himself up even as she kneels down behind him and uses her left hand to pry open a butt cheek.

"How does this work," she giggles, knowing full well what her own fantasies have been ever since he first mentioned toothbrushes and the "man cave."

"Gently," he pleads.

Ruby grabs the bar of soap and scrapes the shaft of the toothbrush across it thinking she may as well give him a good cleaning while she probes him for fun. The other toothbrush clenched between her teeth like a swashbuckler's blade, she does gently wriggle the tip of the toothbrush into his anus. "Relax," she commands!

Although it would work, it'd be no fun to simply jam it full hilt into him. No, she pushes in an inch and wiggles, then withdraws a half inch and pushes back two. She saws the toothbrush in and out of him just as he teases her pussy with his fingers. Dally as she might, the toothbrush is finally inserted all the way to the brush. She wags it forcefully and he feels it bouncing between his prostate and spine.

Both hands free now, she reaches around him and turns off the water. She pulls back slightly placing her hands on both hips and slowly turns him around to face her. If she ducks a bit, she can just see the tip of the toothbrush behind his balls. Her left hand darts between his legs to grab the bristles and she pulls it out half way.

Even as his right hand begins to work his penis, she takes the second toothbrush from her mouth, tilts the bristles down and begins to gently massage her clit. "Good thing the dentist gives him 'soft' brushes," she thinks, slowly dragging the head up and down her slit. Spinning it around, she can use its plastic edge to mash her sensitive nub.

Almost like the conductor in an orchestra, Ruby has both arms moving; the difference being her batons are buried deep in genitals. She watches intently as he plays his instrument.

"Yea, come for momma," she groans, tipping the end of the toothbrush up into her vagina. NOW she gets what he's been chirping about all these months as the end of the toothbrush swirls around her cervix.

Like two lumberjacks on a double saw, she times the strokes of the toothbrush to the strokes of his hand. The head of his penis gets red and engorges with blood. Tiny drops of oil and pre-cum splatter on her upturned face. His moaning seems to be what fills her cunt so she retracts her toothbrush and used it again like a long, hard finger to flagellate her clit.

As his hand pumps his cock, his legs begin to tremble. He reaches out his left hand and places it on top of her head to steady himself. She raises herself up to give him tension and then begins to bob slightly in time with all their ministrations.

"Okay, honey... yea, yea," he gasps, tightly grasping himself to let the pressure build. As if squeezing frosting from a cake decorating tube, Ruby slowly pushes the toothbrush into Ron's ass like a plunger. Just as the first bristles begin to disappear into his puckered hole, he let's go his load and then quickly jerks himself off to spray it across her face. She descends on him with a moan like the kid who gets to lick the bowl.

With both hands on the sides of her head, he pulls her into him and presses his pelvis deep into her face. It feels as if she is dangling from his cock when her own orgasm ripples through her body.

Neither of them moves until the shudders subside; the shower floor is too slippery with oil and soap and cum.

With a final deep suck, Ruby lets him pop out of her mouth. She licks her lips, "mmmmm," and giggles as she pretends to brush her teeth with the brush that's been in her vagina. Ron turns around to turn the water back on and Ruby chuckles, giving what remains of the bristles in his ass one last jiggle. He reaches around to extract the brush, but she slaps his hand away saying, "Heeeeeeeeey, this is my toy." And with that she pulls it all the way out with a pop that makes him clench his ass for fear of losing it. The toothbrush clatters to the floor even as the water cascades over both of them.

Ron bends over and lifts Ruby up. His arms encircle her as hers do him. He turns to his right, spinning her slightly, so that the warm water showers down between them. They hug strongly and kiss between the droplets. He looks down at her upturned face, dew drop eyebrows fluttering to keep the water from her crystal clear blue eyes. He loves this way she looks, purely and simply beautiful.

He spins her a quarter turn more and then kneels in front of her once again, his hands sliding down along her arms to her waist. He reaches to cup her buttocks and pulls her tummy into his face. He kisses her deeply and with her hands she pulls him in. Both moan.


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